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bunny-jpeg · 7 months ago

Note

Hi Bunny,

I've been following your page for awhile and was wondering if I could order some John Price Lemon slices and beer brownies on the house??

I adore your stories and writing style, and you are in fact someone's girlfriends favorite author 😌

Hope your day is wonderful n thank you ♥︎

bakery menu!

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! i know i've been horribly lacking at call of duty bakery fics! but with call of duty i'll get an idea in my head that is seperate than the bakery fics. i still deeply love my boys (and esp john price), so i'll try to be more on top of the call of duty fics because so many of you have been so sweet with your prompts <3 (also john price would totally love beer brownies just as a dessert, lol)

lemon slice: "i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making." + beer brownies: "stick your tongue out anymore and you'll look like a dog." + on the house (matcha latte: collars/bondage)

cw: smut/pwp, dom!price, sub!reader, dirty talk/degrading language, age gap (20s/40s), wife!reader, wife/domestic kink, carpet sex, oral sex, pet names (puppy, baby girl)

price liked being the man of the house. while most times your relationship was an equal affair. price admired you like flowers did the sun. he'd never hurt his baby girl, even with the age gap that would make some gawk at. a man in his near fifties with a woman who was just out of university. plus, he made her a stay-at-home wife within three months of dating?

there had to be something else going on. even your parents were a little shocked at the news. but neither of you cared, you were happy. and since your parents wouldn't let you move in with such an older man, the only thing to do was to get married. and now every night price got to be the man of the house and have his lovely girl serve him.

after dinner was served you were on your knees in front of him while he watched television. it was hard for him to focus on the game while your nose was nestled against his dark pubic hair. his grip on the can of beer was tight, any tighter and he'd crush the thing in his palm.

he was so much bigger than you, stronger than you. there was a weight to him that could leave you pinned under him. he was so strong and masculine that you couldn't help yourself but be enthralled by him. you continued to pleasure him orally, but occasionally you made small noises which was accompanied by your thighs rubbing together.

"i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making." he said as he took you by the head of the head and made you look at him. you panted heavily and looked at him with a lustful expression across your features. poor little wifey got too excited.

price chuckled and patted your cheek a roughly, "stick your tongue out anymore and you'll look like a dog." he laughed a little, "maybe i should get the collar out, since you like being my puppy so badly." you whined in response and price pulled away to tuck himself back in his jeans. when he got up, he looked down at you and said, "you stay put, i don't need you getting in trouble, baby girl." then left for the bedroom.

you waited patiently and felt heat curl in your gut. you liked price like this, domineering. when he used his age, height, size against you. when he made you feel small in the best ways. when he returned you could see the green collar in his hands.

it wasn't a neon green, but rather a rich forest green. you swallowed and shifted a little in your spot. when he sat down on the couch with a 'huff' he patted his thigh so you'd climb onto his lap. you did without question and he placed the pretty collar around your neck. then his hand was on your bare thigh, he got to see you naked up close. after dinner you stripped down to give your husband dessert.

"pretty little thing." he said, his voice hot. you squirmed a little at his hands on you. on between your legs and the other supporting your back. he made a vow to love and protect you. even when you panted heavily from his touches.

his calloused fingertips grazed across your wet cunt and he dipped his head against your neck where he laid kisses across the heated skin.

"john."

"i got ya, sweetheart. my little pet." he teased your clit a little and you shuddered. he pulled you closer to him and teased your clit a little more before he said, "get on your hands and knees, beautiful. your mouth isn't enough tonight."

you scurried off, you were naked save for the ankle socks with little bows on them and the pretty green collar. you got onto the carpet and rested your face against your arms with your hips raised. price took one last swig of his beer before he got up and rubbed himself through his jeans. you looked at your husband, coyly, "like this?"

"i've trained you so well." he said as got down on the carpet. while a this age, it was hard to do it on the floor. but, he knew it was either that or up against the couch. the latter would only cause more pain in price's bad knee.

"thank you." you blushed, heat rose in your cheeks as you felt his pointer and middle finger touch your achy cunt again. your back arched. then you heard the clatter of his belt being fully taken off.

"this is how a wife should greet her husband every night. give him a fully belly and you walk away with a full cunt. ya like when i make a mess of her, don't ya?" he watched your back arch from his words. he got his cock out of his jeans and rubbed the slick head up against your pussy, "been missin' her. had to finish myself off in the washroom at work because i was thinkin' about it."

price hated to admit it, but he loved the differences between you two. he kept his pretty wife happy at home, and maybe soon you'd have some company with a pet or a baby. price wasn't getting any younger, about time he used the last of his swimmers for something good.

he pushed his cock into you with ease and watched your tense up. it was really hot. in his honest opinion, you looked beyond beautiful. he was glad he got a ring on you as soon as he did because if anyone else tried to get their hands on you. that would be a problem. you whimpered and clawed into the cream carpet.

you knew your knees were going to be raw by the time your husband was done with you. but, you'd happily accept it regardless.

his pace was steady, on the faster side but every thrust had a force that made your toes curled. you loved your big, hairy husband. you adored how he made you feel, how he could easily move and twist you to his liking. he was dominant and strong, he never wanted his wife to worry.

"that's a good girl, my good little puppy. hearin' your little noises right now." he groaned, "you're a beautiful little thing. you know exactly how to get me goin'. lettin' my fuck you until you see stars." his pace picked up and you gasped into the floor.

"john." you arched your back. your body craved your husband. more than most else. you were never a party girl, but even if you were, your drug of choice would be having your husband, the cervix bully, make you cum time and time again.

it was slightly price's fault why you never went to parties. when he was home from deployment, he wanted to savour every moment with you. hard to go out with friends on a friday when price had you in a full nelson on his bed with his cock hitting just the right places. price didn't need boys sniffing around what was his. not that you'd give them the time of day. he held onto your hips tightly and pushed you further into the carpet as his cock dragged against your softest areas.

he said, "so pretty under me. you take me so well." you could feel your heartbeat in the back of your head as he continued to push up right against you. the feeling was erotic, as were the sounds of your sweet moans, "pretty in your collar. maybe i should've just gotten you a collar instead of a ring. a nice leash as well to make sure that you didn't go runnin' off. be a proper pup for me." he groaned as he continued to fuck you.

his motor mouth made heat wash over you. it was hot in a way that made you want to cry out for more. poor mrs. price, must be such a shame to get fucked into a state of bliss by your domineering, stronger husband.

it wasn't long before you could feel the sparks in your brain as you panted heavily against the carpet. your knees were rubbed raw as were your forearms. thankfully not carpet burn on your face (this time). you panted heavily before you let out a sweet noise, your attempt to tell your lover you were cumming. your cunt tightened around his cock, which only spurred your husband to move faster.

"that's it, that's my baby girl." he groaned as he rammed his cock as fast as he could. he could hear your soft, post-orgasm moans. your back arched a little more before they dropped. which meant price had to hold onto them to get at the right angle of your pussy, "my good little wife."

a few more heavy thrusts and price finished inside of you. trusting you to keep the boys safe.he gripped onto your hips and really pushed into you as he tensed up. he then relaxed and felt his heart hammering in his chest as he slowly pulled out.

a string of cum connected his cock to your pussy. really a match made in heavy. he licked his lips before he slowly got up with a bit of help from the coffee table. he wasn't the spry young man that he used to be. but you loved that about him, your burly old man.

not that you'd say that to him.

your hips dropped as you laid on the floor for a moment. achy and feeling euphoric at the same time. it was cute in price's eyes, after he got his cock back into his jeans once more. he picked up his wife and held you in his arms. he kissed your heated cheeks while you wrapped a leg around his waist for support.

"i got ya, baby girl. now let's get the wife to bed before i get hungry again." he knew you were on another planet right now. you held onto your husband tightly until he tucked you naked into bed, with the covers pulled up to your chin.

"what about the dinner dishes?" you asked.

price patted your cheek, "don't worry about them, beautiful. i can handle them." then let you rest with the familiar collar around your throat. <3

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solangelo · 9 months ago

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On the evening of September 30th of 2014, @solangelo was founded and many mods and ten years later this blog is still active! In honor of the duration say hello to this event!

All sorts of artists and creators are welcome, submissions of fanart, fanfic, fanedits, playlists, cosplays and anything else your heart desires are welcome to be added to the collection!

Instead of providing alternate words, the prompts list has been divided into two sections, the first section seperates Will and Nico into individuals. The second prompt list is intended to be more focused on their relationship, and in most cases should be a word that connects to the corresponding word of that date for Will or Nico. For example, day 7 uses the words Refract and Crystal for Will and Nico and then Rainbow as their combined word.

The prompt list was intentionally designed to allow people who just want to create content for Nico or Will but not necessarily them together to also participate! Feel free to mix and match the lists throughout the week, or if you like an extra challenge you're welcome to try and use all 3 words for everyday of the week!

Prompts are only ever just a suggestion, so please feel free to submit works even if they are not necessarily inspired by one of the lists below!

Prompt List by date: Will // Nico

Day One (09/29/24) - Dawn // Stars

Day Two (09/30/24) - Growth // Earth

Day Three (10/01/24) - Light // Shade

Day Four (10/02/24) - Cure // Precious

Day Five (10/03/24) - Scry // Knowing

Day Six (10/04/24) - Endure // Insomnia

Day Seven (10/05/24) - Refract // Crystal

Prompt List by Date: Relationship Based Prompts

Day One (09/29/24) - Hearth

Day Two (09/30/24) - Life

Day Three (10/01/24) - Boundaries

Day Four (10/02/24) - Love

Day Five (10/03/24) - Reflection

Day Six (10/04/24) - Confession

Day Seven (10/05/24) - Rainbow

Please tag any submissions @solangelo directly or send us an ask for the best chances of us seeing your post, or you can also use the tag #solangeversary 2024. You can also always post or send links to content you've made for another platform like Instagram, Twitter, or Ao3 for us to share here. Late submissions are always welcome!

If you don't vibe with these prompts, you're welcome to check out @solangeloweek's auctober prompt list also!

Happy creating!

All art in the post is edited from the same wonderful creator of our header and pfp!

#nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo #pjo #solangeversary 2024 #open prompt #prompt list #mod hya

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yanderedbdimagines · 29 days ago

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Hello, I really like the way you are writing! So what would you think of yandere Frank, Jake, David, the doctor and the spirit (together or seperate, you decide),with an obsession (survivor) that is very sarcastic, always fighting back and always doing the opposite thing they want from her/him, just to annoy them? If you don't have time or don't want to write about this, it's ok. Just ignore this request then. Have a good night/day!

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

Part 1 - Part 2

Warning!: Cussing.

The Doctor

It’s truly fascinating how predictable you are. How defiant you can be. And yet, you still captivate him.

Most survivors break or start to crumble under fear. They scramble. They beg. They cry. They always end up submitting to him.

Not you. At least, not in any trial he’s ever seen you in.

You stopped fearing him long ago. Stopped treating him as the incomprehensible terror that others do. Instead, you regard him with nothing but seething defiance, as if he were some insufferable nuisance rather than the very monster that dictates your suffering. A beast whose authority you refuse to acknowledge. A force you meet head-on, teeth bared, unyielding even in the face of certain death.

He learned that quickly. Herman Carter is a man who thrives on absolute control.

And yet, here you are. Still running. Still fighting.

Still making his pulse thunder with every sharp glance, every scathing retort, every reckless refusal to submit to him. How infuriating. How utterly delightful.

His boots slam against the frozen earth, crushing brittle ice beneath his relentless pursuit. Snow scatters in his wake, the cold biting into his skin, though he hardly notices. Not when he’s so singularly focused. The crackle of electricity hums at his temples, a steady, pulsing rhythm that casts erratic shadows along the decayed walls of Ormond Lodge.

But he doesn’t need to rush. Not this time. Not when he knows you.

He has studied you. Mapped every instinct, memorized every habit, every desperate maneuver. Others are mere test subjects, their fates inconsequential, but you… You are something else entirely. Something infinitely more precious.

Which is why, when he catches you, he’ll be gentle. A rare kindness. A mercy reserved for you alone. Because he’s long since decided he’ll be keeping you.

You feel him before you hear him.

That low, insidious hum. The telltale whisper of something unnatural lurking just beyond your senses. Waiting. Watching.

But then… The unmistakable thunder of boots, pounding against the frostbitten ground, closing in like a death knell.

Your muscles coil, but not with fear. No, something much hotter surges through you, igniting in your chest, curling in your gut. Fury.

“Damn it, you son of a bitch! You ever take a day off?!”

The words rip from your throat, sharp and scathing, slicing through the frozen air with all the venom you can muster.

You should be focused on escape. Should be calculating every possible route, should be maneuvering, strategizing, weaving your way toward safety.

But no.

Because it’s him.

And the moment you hear that sound. That scrambled laugh… Something in your core twists. Warped and guttural, his amusement is fractured, distorted, bleeding through the static-laced air like the death rattle of something far beyond human. The charged atmosphere crackles against your skin, tiny jolts prickling along your spine.

Your instincts scream at you to run faster.

But instinct alone isn’t what drives you.

You hate him. With every fiber of your being, with every ragged breath, every aching muscle. With a fury so visceral it borders on something vicious, something that dares to eclipse mere survival.

And that’s why you refuse… Refuse, to give him the satisfaction of seeing fear in your eyes.

Sadly, it’s amusing to him.

Most survivors, when they know they’re cornered, when they feel the predator breathing down their necks. They scream.

You? You snarl. Like a caged animal, he managed to corner you. Wild and untamed. Teeth bared, hackles raised, rage burning in your glare, daring him to take one step closer.

And Herman. He simply laughs. A low, indulgent chuckle rumbles from his chest, the sound distorted, fractured, like static slithering between radio frequencies. His massive frame looms over you. A monolith of raw strength and something far more insidious. An intelligence that does not simply crave, but calculates.

The wires threading through his scarred, muscular arms pulse with restrained energy, casting eerie, flickering light over the snow-laden ground. The dim glow accentuates every ridge and contour of his form. To the broad expanse of his shoulders, the brutal scars that mar his flesh, the twisted remnants of past experiments etched into him like a morbid masterpiece.

And you… You’re trapped. Caught between him and the rusted remains of a snow-covered trash container, your breath clouding in the frigid air. But you refuse to cower.

He sees it in your stance, in the way your fingers twitch, flexing with anticipation. Ready to shove him, strike him, fight him.

You always fight.

But he doesn’t want a struggle. Not this time.

Not when he’s spent so long learning your little habits, your little games, your little weaknesses. He’s mapped you down to the finest details. The quickening of your pulse, the shift of your weight when you prepare to run, the fire that ignites in your glare just before you lash out.

No, he wants you perfectly intact, he reminds himself.

His rough, cracked hands move with uncharacteristic care. Calloused fingers reaching, not to strike, not to seize, but to touch.

His fingertips graze your cheek, the contact featherlight, and yet… Electric. A faint, tingling charge lingers in his wake, sending shivers racing down your spine. Your breath hitches, unbidden, and his amusement hums through the air like an unstable current.

A little gift from him. A reminder.

That he is here. Inside your skin. Inside your head. Inside of everything.

He drops his weapon, and his other hand finds your wrist, curling around it. Not restraining. Just keeping you. Holding onto what is his.

"Still so stubborn," he muses, his voice a low, distorted murmur, warped through the device prying his mouth into an unrelenting grin. "So resilient."

He tilts his head, ever so slightly, his gaze unwavering as he watches the subtle rise and fall of your chest. Your breath warm against the frozen air, your heartbeat hammering just beneath his fingertips.

You are furious. Fuming. Every muscle in your body is tight, locked, poised for a strike.

And yet… He knows you’re resisting the shiver.

His breath hitches. Sharp, measured and absolutely predatory.

"I wonder, dear girl… would you still fight if you knew I wouldn’t hurt you?"

Your glare sharpens, unflinching, a firestorm of rage and defiance.

"Shut up. I know you will. Don’t fucking lie to me, you freak."

A slow drag of his finger down the warm curve of your clavicle, his touch a contradiction. Gentle, reverent, yet injected with something far more wicked.

"Amusing," he murmurs, voice dropping to something darker, richer, threaded with something too close. His lips strain against the cruel device forcing his mouth open, his fingers lingering at the dip of your collarbone, pressing down ever so softly against it. Just enough to feel the way your pulse jumps.

"Well, I believe you’d bite and claw until your very last breath."

His head dips lower, impossibly close, his voice threading into something quiet. Something intimate. "And still… I’d be delighted if you did."

His unblinking eyes widen further, reveling in the way your body betrays you, just for a second, just enough for him to feel the rush of your pulse beneath his touch.

How thrilling.

How utterly fascinating.

Your pulse, thrumming beneath his fingers. The fire in your eyes, burning even as the cold air licks at your skin. The way you refuse to bow, refuse to break, refuse to be his.

His mind drinks in every flicker of defiance, every breath, every tremor, savoring the moment as though he could carve it into permanence.

But then…

A blaring siren.

The sound rips through the frozen air, shrill and unrelenting. Self-explanatory. The exit gates.

Herman’s fluorescent eyes snap upward, his entire form going rigid. A flicker of darkness ignites in his gaze, clearly ugly and inconvenienced.

He should have known.

You feel it before you see it. The subtle shift in his grip, the tightening of his fingers around your wrist. Not enough to hurt. He would never break his most important test subject.

But enough to send a very, very clear message.

"Not yet…"

The words slither past his teeth, low and vibrating with something dangerous and final. His voice, even warped and distorted, drips with quiet promise.

But you…

You steal that moment right from underneath him.

That fraction of a second where his mind, sharp as it is, is not completely focused on keeping you still.

Your body moves before your mind can fully process it, instincts roaring to life. With one violent, wrenching twist, your wrist slips free, burning against the friction of his grip.

Then you run.

The frozen ground is slippery beneath your feet, each breath a ragged, desperate heave. Your legs scream, muscles searing with exertion, but you don’t stop. You can’t stop.

Because you know he’s behind you. Of course he is.

Boots slam against the earth, snow scattering as his towering frame cuts through the fog, relentless and determined. Electricity crackles, the very air warping around him in unstable pulses of static-laced hunger.

But you don’t dare look back.

Not until your trembling hands slam against the control panel, then pressing down, activating it.

And then you squeeze right through, your body twisting as you throw yourself through the opening, the icy air slicing against your skin.

The Entity’s fog curls around you. Safety at last.

Herman stops in his tracks, his weapon left behind.

His form stills, his sharp, manic grin frozen in place, his breath halting in his chest.

He watches… Watches as you vanish out of his sight.

The static around him pulses almost wild and erratic, before crackling out in an abrupt, deafening silence.

He slowly exhales.

His body shudders, fingers twitching, his jaw flexing ever so slightly. A low, near-silent chuckle bubbles up from his chest, crawling past his teeth like the remnants of some dark, twisted amusement.

"Ah."

His head tilts, electrodes sparking faintly, his ever-gaping grin twitching as his unblinking eyes remain fixated on the space where you once stood.

"Fascinating."

His tongue drags across the inward-facing side of his bottom teeth, his breath slow, measured.

The laugh starts as a small, fractured sound, then grows, unraveling into a series of quiet, warbling giggles, his shoulders quaking with the force of it.

Because, deep down, he knows.

Knows this isn’t over.

Knows you belong to him, whether you realize it yet or not.

And next time?

Next time, there won’t be an exit.

The Legion (Frank Morrison)

It’s almost unfair how much fun he’s having.

You can hear him before you see him. Quick, eager footsteps crunching against damp grass, weaving between broken fences and half-rotted wood with a kind of purpose that sets your nerves alight. And then…

"Wow, for a guy who thinks he’s terrifying, you sure are easy to outrun. Need a head start?"

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them. Sharp, mocking and dripping with challenge. And they hit their mark.

Frank stops mid-step.

For a moment, just a moment, there’s silence.

A shift in the air. The unmistakable hum of tension coiling tight. His head tilts slightly, the eerie, frozen grin of his mask staring back at you, his breathing even. Too even.

You always do this.

You always say things that make his fingers twitch, make his thoughts spiral, make him want to grab you and shake you and-

God, you don’t even know, do you?

Frank has been in love with you for longer than he’s willing to admit, tangled up in something sharp-edged and uncontrolled. Not because you fear him, no… Because you refuse to. Because you mock him behind his back, call him a melodramatic wannabe killer with no real bite. Because you fight him at every turn, spitting insults when others would scream, dodging his attacks when others would beg.

Because you never do what he wants. Even when he wants you to love him.

And then, with a sudden, breathless laugh, he bolts forward.

He’s fast. Too fast this time around. He’s already closing in before your mind even catches up.

“You really make this easy, y’know?” he muses, voice smooth, almost affectionate in its mocking. “The others run. They panic. But you?” A chuckle, deep and rough. “You get me fucking excited.”

You don’t answer. You can’t. Your heart is hammering against your ribs, your breath a frantic, uneven mess as you push forward, weaving between the abandoned fences and rotted garden beds.

A realization too late.

You don’t remember seeing him move, but suddenly, he’s there.

The knife gleams as he swings, but you’re ready, twisting at the last second, the blade missing your ribs by inches. You crash against him, shoulder slamming into his torso. He barely stumbles, fingers grazing the edge of your sleeve as you tear yourself away, sprinting into the mansion.

The mansion is dark, moonlight slanting through fractured glass, casting eerie streaks across his mask. His breath is steady, unhurried, even as he steps forward, like he already knows you won’t escape him this time. Or so he believes.

“You know,” he says, voice dipping into something softer, something meant just for you, “I think I like you best like this.”

Your fingers curl into fists, nails biting into your palms. You should be thinking of an escape route, of a way to outmanoeuvre him, but something about him- his voice, his posture, the absolute ease in the way he moves, makes your blood boil.

“You’re out of your damn mind.”

His grin is evident, even beneath the mask. “Yeah? And what’s your excuse?”

There’s no time to answer. No time to plan. Because in the next second, he moves.

The knife whistles past your shoulder, slicing through the air just as you duck, heart pounding in your throat. You spin, barely catching sight of him lunging before you bolt again, tearing through the manor’s suffocating halls.

A dead end.

Your back hits the wooden frame of a door that won’t budge. You try again, rattling the handle, but it won’t give.

Shit.

A hand slams against the wall beside your head.

The knife follows, embedding itself just inches from your throat, the force of it rattling the wood.

You barely have time to react before his free hand moves.

Not to stab. Not to strike.

To touch.

Fingers glide along your cheek, slow, deliberate, mapping the shape of your face like a sculptor learning their craft. The mask tilts slightly as he leans in, so close that you can hear his breathing from behind the thin barrier of plastic, each inhale measured, calculated, like he’s savoring this moment.

“You keep running,” he murmurs, his voice honeyed, almost gentle. If not for the feral hunger laced beneath. “But it’s pointless. You’re fucking mine.”

His fingers trail down, following the curve of your jaw, pausing just below your ear. His touch lingers, feather-light yet possessive, as if he’s memorizing the very beat of your pulse beneath his fingertips.

“You always fight,” he muses, thumb dragging over the sensitive skin at the side of your throat, pressing down just enough for you to feel the weight of it. “I love that about you. But it doesn’t change a goddamn thing.”

His other hand ghosts near the knife embedded in the wood, as if considering retrieving it. But he doesn’t. Instead, he stays right there, drinking in every flicker of defiance in your eyes, every unsteady breath you take.

“You’ll understand soon enough,” he continues, voice smooth, laced with something almost affectionate. “I don’t need to hurt you to fucking own you.”

Your stomach twists.

“You were never gonna leave this trial.”

The words settle like lead in your lungs, heavy, suffocating.

Then, the siren blares.

Frank goes still.

For a second, his entire frame tenses, a flicker of something ugly flashing through his dark eyes behind the mask. His grip tightens on the knife, shoulders rigid, jaw clenched beneath the plastic. The air around him shifts, thickens, his entire presence coiling with something volatile, something barely contained.

A low and frustrated growl. Dangerous.

Your moment.

With a sharp jerk, you break free, shoving him back with every ounce of strength left in your body. He staggers, just slightly, just enough. His fingers graze your wrist as you rip yourself away.

And then you run back outside.

The ground is slick beneath your feet, each step a frantic, desperate push forward. Your breath tears from your lungs in ragged bursts, legs burning, every muscle screaming at you to keep going. You don’t dare look back.

But you can hear him.

Boots pounding against the earth, his pace relentless, the sound of his chase weaving into the frantic rhythm of your pulse. He’s close. So fucking close. You can feel him, that oppressive weight of his presence looming behind you, thick with something possessive, something hungry.

A snarl, half growled, half laughed.

“Run, baby. Let’s see how far you’ll get.”

Your fingers slam against the control panel, almost fumbling, clearly trembling. The moment the mechanism clicks, you don’t hesitate. You twist your body and throw yourself through the opening, the icy air slicing against your skin like a blade.

The Entity’s fog curls around you. The overwhelming silence of safety.

Frank stops in his tracks.

His breath is heavy, shoulders rising and falling in deep, measured inhales. His fingers flex at his sides, grip tightening and loosening around the knife as his gaze locks onto the spot where you just stood.

Then, slowly, almost lazily, his hand drifts up to his mask.

With one slow, deliberate motion, he peels it off, revealing sharp, angular features twisted in something between amusement and frustration. His head tilts, tongue swiping across the inside of his cheek, the silver gleam of his tongue piercing catching the dim light.

His breath catches once, then twice. Halfway between a sigh and the beginning of a laugh.

And then, finally, it spills out.

Low. Soft. Amused. But laced with something deeper and darker.

“You really think you won, huh?”

His dark eyes gleam, tracking the last wisps of fog as they swallow you whole. His amusement lingers, curling at the edges of his mouth, but beneath it, something colder simmers. Something patient and almost cruel in nature.

Frank Morrison doesn’t need to scream his obsession. He doesn’t need to make it obvious. He’s smarter than that. More patient. Because love… Real love, in his mind, isn’t something rushed.

It’s something earned.

And next time?

There won’t be an exit.

Because next time, he’ll make sure you never fucking run again.

The Spirit

The air in Autohaven Wreckers is thick with rust and oil, the scent clinging to your lungs like a brand. The scrapyard looms around you, jagged metal carcasses stacked high, their hollow frames whispering in the wind. The flickering glow of distant headlights casts eerie, elongated shadows against the wreckage. The world feels abandoned. Hollow. And yet…

You are not alone.

A sharp breath. A shift in the air. A static hum reverberating against your skin, deep and raw, like something clawing at the fabric of existence itself.

Then…

A flicker.

A shape materializes in front of you. Tattered, trembling and wrong. Barely a woman. Her form fractured, as though the universe itself is unsure if she belongs. She fades in and out, her presence tethered to reality by something fragile, something desperate.

The Spirit.

Her body, once whole, now hangs in tatters. Frayed bandages coil around her body in uneven strips, the only barrier between the remnants of what’s left of her humanity and the world that tore her apart. Jagged shards of glass remain embedded in her flesh, glinting under the faint light, half-buried wounds refusing to heal, locked in a state of eternal suffering. Her skin, blueish and streaked with deep, angry gashes, bears the remnants of a violence too cruel to name. Arms and a leg cleanly severed for a torso. A past that refuses to let her go.

And her hair, wild and unkempt, floating as if weightless, frames her face entirely, shifting in the air like something alive. The movement does little to hide the torment in her features, the sorrow carved into every twitching muscle. She is agony made manifest, her form trembling with pain too vast to express, her silence a wail that never finds release.

She watches you with milky eyes. Unblinking. Shuddering with something unseen, something barely contained.

You should run.

Instead, your lips curl, a breathless laugh escaping before you can stop it. "Damn, you really need to work on your bedside manner. You know, if you actually want people to stick around."

The words linger between you like a challenge.

She jerks.

A soundless inhale, a tremor rolling through her body like a current. Her fingers twitch at her sides, jerking toward you, spasming in their hesitation. As if she wants to reach for you, but something in her is splintering apart at the thought.

She moves.

Not in steps. Not in strides. But in glimpses.

One moment, she stands before you, her form flickering at the edges. The next, the world seems to warp, space bending around her as she vanishes, only to reappear inches from your side.

Too close.

A sharp sound rattles in her throat. Her hand snaps up, just shy of your wrist. Trembling, grasping for something she does not dare to take.

You don’t see the heartbreak in her eyes. The way her expression fractures, the way her nails bite into her own palm instead, the sharp pain grounding her in the moment.

You only see the opportunity. Your body twists, muscles coiling tight before you bolt through the wreckage.

She doesn’t follow. Not at first. She stands there, frozen, as if trying to understand why you always do this. Why you always run. Why you never let her get close willingly.

A whisper of sound.

The scrapyard hums with absence, with tension, with the sickening knowledge that she is near.

A gust of wind howls through the wreckage. Metal groans. A shadow shifts.

You barely have time to react before she is there. Only for you to spot the hatch.

Hope slams into your chest like a hammer, but there is no time for hesitation. You dive for it, breath catching in your throat as your fingers grasp the edge. The moment your body slips through, the world above disappears into nothingness.

And she?

She watches.

A ragged breath rattles in her lungs, her body trembling with something awful, something aching. Her fingers twitch, curling toward the empty space where you had just been.

You got away. Again.

She was so close.

You always do this. Always fight. Always push her away.

And the worst part?

You don’t even realize how much it destroys her.

#dbd x reader #dead by daylight #yandere #dbd #reader insert #herman carter #rin yamaoka #the spirit #the legion #the doctor #frank morrison

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bestsistertournament · 8 days ago

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Propaganda Under Cut:

Anna (Younger Sister of Elsa): Submitted by Anonymous and @chokit-pyrus. Anna had a close relationship with Elsa. The two were inseperable and often played together taking advantage of Elsa's powers. After Elsa's powers hurt Anna (which Anna did not remember) and their relationship fractured Anna spent many years unsuccessfully trying to encourage Elsa to spend time with her. This seperation left Anna with a void that she could never replace. When Anna's powers were revealed Anna accepted them without hesitation and went after her sister understanding she was only acting out of fear. Anna was never frightened of her sister of her powers. When Anna realised Hans was planning on killing Elsa she abandoned her one chance of her survival and sacrificed herself to save Elsa. Anna was devestated to believe her sister was dead and was overjoyed to see that she was alive and pleased that Elsa had found her true calling.

Elsa (Older Sister of Anna): Submitted by Anonymous + @chokit-pyrus. Anna had a close relationship with Elsa. The two were inseperable and often played together taking advantage of Elsa's powers. However, this all changed when Elsa injured Anna with her powers. Elsa was devestated, guilt stricked and traumatised and kept her distance from Anna from then onwards wanting to keep her sister safe. On the day of Elsa' coronation Elsa sought to bridge the gap between them and exchanged friendly banter with her sister and were making moves to end their estrangement. Elsa was protective of her sister marrying someone she had just meant and refused to bless the proposal. After accidentally revealing her powers Elsa fled Ariendelle but missed Anna so was initially happy to see Anna when Anna tracked her down. Elsa tried to send Anna away to protect her from Elsa's own powers. Devestated to see her sister frozen by her powers Elsa embraced her sister's frozen body sobbing. When Anna returned to life Elsa was relieved to see her sister and live and well. Elsa released love was the key to controlling her abilities and to sisters were closer than ever. After years of being apart Elsa wanted to give Anna a perfect birthday despite being sick at the time. Elsa wanted to discover where the voices and her powers came from but still wanted to protect Anna and sent her away in a boat fearing it was too dangerous for her to go on.

#female tournaments #character tournament #tumblr bracket #best sister tournament #queen anna #princess anna #anna frozen #frozen #frozen 2 #disney #queen elsa #elsa frozen

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familytgirltoy · 3 months ago

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(For Em)

Amy admired her growing belly in the mirror of the lavishly decorated 'testing' lab. A plush bed, a locked steel door, a luxurious room, a spa-like bathroom, several dozen hidden cameras, all the amenities they could want, and a nurse that came to draw samples three times a day; this had been their life for the past 3 months, ever since they'd agreed to be the first test subjects for a secretive new prototype product, Futarane. Apparently it was designed to compete with estradiol and testosterone; HRT for futanari, the best of both worlds. All Amy and her mom Evelyn had cared about was that after a lifetime of being in love and years of being married (secretly, if not legally), it would finally let them have a family together.

Amy had so, so many trans friends that had bred their family. Some consensual, some not; tgirls that raped their loving mothers at night, tboys that seduced their dads into filling their cunts, enbies spending every night fucking their siblings until an inbred baby was inevitable. She tried not to show how jealous it made her. Both her and her mom were cis, but while they played at breeding in bed in her heart she always knew it was impossible.

Until the Representative arrived. He said he was there from a company called Salamcis Biotechnica, and while the details of his pitch went over their heads, but Amy and her mom only cared about his promise that it would let them finally breed each other. Everything would be free and cared for. Provided, of course, that they and their children submit to regular sampling, medical tests, physical examinations, psychological assessments, and signed themselves to secrecy with a contract that would ruin them if they breathed a word of this.

They signed up without a moments hesitation.

It was- like all HRT at first- agonizingly slow. Trapped in the small testing room there was little else to do but fuck each other senseless, taking a perverse thrill in showing off their taboo love knowing that their every move and word was recorded. They saw the changes in each other gradually. Evelyn grew in every way a body could, her tts swelling day by day, her ass growing fat and heavy, her entire body stretching out to add more than a foot to her height until she began to tower over her smaller daughter. Her clit bloomed with new growth as it reshaped itself into a cock that quickly went from impressive to grotesque, a violently throbbing, constantly leaking bitchbreaker, covered in thick veins twitching in time to her heartbeat. Amy's changes were almost invisible by comparison. Her cock grew a modest few inches, her breasts filled out a little. But she took every monstrous inch of her mom's cock like it was nothing, and that was enough for her.

The biggest difference came after they finally knocked each other up. Evelyn was barely beginning to show by the time Amy looked 5 months pregnant, and every time her mom flooded her womb she looked a little further along. It wasn't until the nurse came back with their tests that they learned Amy was heavy with three of her mothers kids; not triplets, three separate kids, three seperate ages, her body seemingly so desperate for a family that it was getting bred even while she was still pregnant.

Her mom made sure to give her a fourth the night she learned that.

Through every screaming orgasm and incestuous creampie research assistants sat quietly observing it all through the cameras. The first successful test was a consanguineous pair, a breakthrough for the Futarane project. A dozen more incestuous couples were signed on before Amy's first child was even born. Each test was a little more perfect than the last, the results a little more stable, more predictable, more controlled, more marketable. Soon, Futarane would be ready for public testing.

#fauxcest

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jaydick-week · 2 months ago

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How does signing up for the Jaydick Flower Zine work as an Author Duo? Do both authors sign up seperately or as one individual sign up? How do you ensure you and your partner get paired up? Can we submit shared writing? Or does it need to be 3 seperate examples EACH? Thank you in advance! <3

Good questions!

Both authors should apply separately and indicate their interest in working with the other person in their application. Obviously both must be accepted to work together, and we're still judging apps blindly, but a) we would strongly prefer duo writers who have already worked together in the past, and b) because of this, we'll be more likely to use preferences as a tie-breaker once we get to that point. That is, if we're between person A and person B, and person B was requested by person X, who we would like to have as a contributor, we'd go with person B.

You may submit examples of co-authored works! We suggest indicating on the top of your submission that this is a work you wrote with the person you'd like to be paired with (without names, as these should be blind submissions) to help us gauge what you can do together.

The application has been updated to reflect the answers to these questions.

#jdfz #replies

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cloudsthatglowinthenightsky · 6 months ago

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ok I got curious who is dream. I keep seeing you reblog things that sound like he was involved in some kind of drama and I love few things more than hearing about drama I am involved in so I had to ask

OH MY GOD.

i guess this my reminder that the internet is wide and vast and contains so many subsets of people that know nothing of each other... because the fact you don't know DREAM is SHOCKING to me but honestly? it makes sense. he's just REALLY REALLY BIG in the circles i frequent.

how to explain...

OK let's start by explaining mcyt stan culture. mcyt stands for minecraft youtuber, and there's a pretty large fandom for them, which makes sense when you remember just how big minecraft is. there's typical fanart of minecraft skins, but what people LOVE is SMPs, aka "survival muliplayer" minecraft worlds. basically, when a bunch of youtubers get together and hang out together in a minecraft world for a while, all posting seperate videos where they mine, build, engage in minecraft activites, etcetera. mostly these will take minecraft literally, but sometimes they'll sprinkle in bits of "lore" - players having feuds, fighting in wars, forming alliances. it's not that serious, just a way to make these long smps interesting.

that is, it WASN'T that serious. until the DSMP.

dream was a pretty famous mcyt, who really blew up for his "minecraft manhunt" series, where he tried to speedrun minecraft (by defeating the ender dragon) while his friend(s) tried to kill him before he could. with this mild fame, he decided to start a casual minecraft server with his friends, named the "dream smp", or dsmp, where they could get together and play the game on streams.

then he started inviting more youtubers on, outside of his inner friend circle. one in particular, wilbur soot, decided to start a sort of storyline, involving a country he made, where he would declare independence from the larger dream smp.

and, well. it went from there.

there's no way i can explain everything that happened on that server. so many storylines, so many characters, so many perspectives, SO. MUCH. LORE. the dsmp was the first smp to really revolutionize the idea of minecraft smps with lore, and they exploded onto the scene. a bunch of funny, already popular/up-and-coming mcyts, all interacting with each other and creating a story to follow, in the peak of 2020 quarentine, when everyone was online to see them?

yeah. dsmp pretty much ended in 2022, but its fandom is still alive and well, if a little diminished from where it was when the dsmp was ongoing.

dream is a youtuber with over 30 million subscribers, and a lot of them just enjoy his videos, but the FANDOM - the fans that seriously follow him, engage with him, and to some extent obsess over him - mostly comes from the dsmp.

but whatever about the dsmp. you're not here for that. you're here for the CONTROVERSY.

and oh my god... is there controversy.

first of all, his minecraft manhunt series? the thing that got him famous? a lot of its fame is based on the amazing, impressive, and straight up unbelievable stunts dream pulls during them, which have resulted in a lot of people believing that they're at least semi-manipulated, if not straight up staged.

but whatever- it's for youtube. nothing seriously wrong with cheating a little there.

but when he's not getting hunted down by his friends, dream does normal spreedrunning, which means setting a timer, submitting his run to moderators to look over, and trying to get on a leaderboard. it's decently policed stuff, and people take it very seriously.

and, yeah, he DEFINITELY cheated on that.

there's a lot of technical details that i don't fully understand and you don't want to hear about, but basically, some moderators did some math and found that some of the "good luck" dream experienced during a speedrun was so mathematically improbable that there was only a 1 in 177 BILLION chance it could have happened.

so they took the run down.

dream responded by denying all of their claims, accusing them of lying and bad math, and generally throwing a huge temper tantrum in front of the entire internet, before reluctantly admitting that he had "accidentally" cheated in the run.

you may be wondering how someone accidentally cheats. i'm wondering that too.

but that's more silly stuff. let's get down into the worse controversy, the one that sort of destroyed dream for the dsmp fandom besides the most devoted stans.

the grooming allegations.

multiple fans have seperately stepped forward and said that dream groomed them when they were under 18, taking advantage of his position as an older, wealthy, famous man to influence his fans.

dream has completely denied this, and the internet is, frankly, a little confused as to the validity of the claims (mostly pertaining to the fans' ages and if the conversations really "count" as grooming) but it's generally agreed that dream, at the VERY least, acted in a way that was inappropiate for a celebrity to act with a fan. whether this was intentional and malicious or just dangerous negligence on his fault remains to be seen, but it leaves a bad taste in my mouth either way.

there's also a compliation of things that i'm not super familiar with - one time he started a one-sided rivalry with a fellow mcyt when he created another smp, i think accusing him of "copying" the dsmp? - but since this isn't an academic paper, let me reluctantly source "bad vibes" for the reason some people don't like him. dream has a history of just being kind of a huge asshole to fans and fellow youtubers alike, both publically and privately. like, seriously, the shit he posts ONLINE for ANYONE TO SEE is unbelieveable, and makes you wonder at how things are behind closed doors.

the reason why everyone's talking about him RIGHT NOW is because of something tommyinnit (another minecraft youtuber, "main character" of the dsmp, the one guy i will bestow the dubious honor of being a "stan" of) mentioned on an episode of his podcast. he said that in the past he was scared of making dream angry, and WROTE IN HIS DIARY not to piss him off, because it wasn't worth it. keep in mind, this happened when he was SIXTEEN. tommy said that as a now-twenty-year-old, he couldn't imagine treating a teenager that way, and jackmanifold, someone else who was a part of the dsmp and interacted with dream, said that he hated dream.

another part of this getting brought up is a twitter thread that happened awhile ago (i believe back in 2021?), where dream basically claimed credit for tommy's success as a youtuber, posting screenshots of GRAPHS (???) that "proved" that tommy owed EVERYTHING TO HIM (??????) which is just. frankly unhinged behavior. i'll see if i can reblog a screenshot so you can see.

ANYWAY, dream obviously saw the podcast and the (rightfully pissed) fans' reaction to it, and decided to react in the most emotionally mature manner: a post mentioning how grateful he was to work with people on the dsmp, "even if we don't see eye to eye", and releasing the DSMP WORLD DOWNLOAD. (this is basically a way to download the way the dsmp minecraft world looks and play it on your own version of minecraft, so you can actually explore all the areas where lore took place.)

keep in mind, this server imploded in 2022. it's been TWO YEARS of fans begging for the world download, and he finally brought it out as a publicity stunt to make everyone forget about him being an asshole. which, can i just say, as someone that's not an expert at pr? only makes it clear to me that he knew exactly how much of an asshole he was being, and did it anyway.

obviously, there's more to the story here (oh my god i could make a dozen of these posts about dream's position in dsmp lore ALONE), and a lot of stuff i don't even know about, because i don't spend all my time familiarizing myself with cc!dream lore, but this is a pretty concise summary of events. i hope you can now enjoy my occassional rbs of posts that mock dream relentlessly as someone who officially knows the drama :)

#haha my brain waves #WHEW this is a long one #long post #btw if you EVER. want to know more about dream. or the dsmp. or anything i post about #or honestly just want to talk to me (oh god please i'm so lonely)#PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE send an ask!!!! or a dm!!!!!!!!!! i prommy i'll try to respond :3 #this goes out to ALL THE FOLLOWERS out there but especially you... theroseempress...#i see u in the notifs...#dream situation #<-tag people use to filter out this guy LMAO

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pinkwinesupernovas · 8 months ago

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(this is a lot of yapping sorry in advance babe)

dear zel,

i miss you rn so i'm writing this for you in english class and probably the class afterwards knowing me, (edit in printmaking period two, yes i am still writing this hehe)

i'm gonna be totally honest i'm literally writing my english assesment about you bc i was lost for inspiration and the promt fit soooo it's about our freindship hehe ily. i'm not totally sure if i'll submit this one for the final thing but writing about you makes me happy which is sappy as hell but i don't feel embarassed abt it bc you make me feel very safe to be embarrassingly sappy with you <3 i will send you the thing eventually even if i don't hand it in for marking but i don't think i'm allowed to post it cause it's school related so i'll send it on discord when i finish the first draft hehe <3 (i wrote 600 words about you in one hour that is lowkey scary)

also i'm going to yap about you nowww because i love youuuu mwah <3

i'm literally so glad we're friends, i'm not sure what our first interaction was but i think it was for your event?? and i am forever grateful for it i'm so glad we're friends you're literally one of my fav people i've met on this app i love you with my whole heartttt

one thing i loveee abt you is that i don't feel scared to spam your asks or tag you in one million things, idek what it is but you make me feel very safe to be sappy and clingy and i love that bc with most people i overthink whether i should send them things but with you i don't even hesitate bc ik you'll respond well and i love thatttt <3 you also match my enthusiasm and send lots of asks back and i love that sm <3

i literally adore talking to you bc you're such a sweet and kind person i'm lowkey in awe of it like how is one person so lovely you just light up the world ugh i love you sm, you're so fun to talk to and i just love you smmm (i hate timezones but six hours will not seperate us i love yapping with you too much)

alsooo just so you know, in my mind we're in a field of flowers together picking flowers and yapping while we eat pastries from a cute little bakery and drink like iced matcha or something that's my dream <333 i wish we could live closer bc i just know i'd love baking with you and stargazing and just dong cute little things whenever we wanted, just know that whenever i like your posts thats actually me mentally giving you a flower or two bc ily <3

also what i feel for you can be kind of wrapped up with a few songs so here: birds of a feather by billie, glue song by bea and clairo, the last one by maisie, feels like by gracie, and lots more but those are the songs that i can't listen to without thinking of you <3

ahhhhhh i'm still at school and stupid school wifi blocks tumblr AND discord (i've tried literally EVERY vpn i can it's so annoying ughhh) so i'll have to send this when i get home but just know i was thinking of you allllllll day at school and i miss you and i love you sm <3

okayyy this is written proof that i'm literally a proffessional yapper i've been adding to this on my notesapp throughout the day so i'm going to shut up now byeee i love you i'll send this when i get homeee <3

don't apologize oml

ALSO ARE YOU KIDDING ME IM GOING TO CRY LUCY THIS ACTUALLY MEANS SO MUCH TO ME you're not real

omg you wrote about us??? i would love love love to read it 🥹

you're right our first interaction literally was for my event which im so grateful for omg!!! cause we'd been moots for a while but i was very scared to interact w you but you engaged w my event and it made soooo happy

you're adorable and this right here made my whole day, i was feeling very sick in the morning and throughout the afternoon which HAS NOW DISAPPEARED SEEING ALL YOUR NOTIFS literally beaming w happiness rn

i love you so much, wayyy more than how much words can convey <333

#my amity ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚#mutuals ༊*·˚#giggling in the bus and people are looking at me weirdly but IDC

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thenextchapterbegins · 6 months ago

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Jayce bio

{My jayce suffers from antisocial behaviors and axienty please dont come into rps acting like jayce is how he is akin to canon he will be confused.}

{pss. theirs now a divergent act 7 at the bottom that allows non villain jayce rps.}

Act 1: A dream

Magic a thing of the past replaced by technoligcally and innovation towers and structures of steel and clockwork, airships that allow man kind to travel across the world in leisure, guns, cannons and other instruments of war that makes killing a past time…barely an after thought. Yet for one man magic still lives in his very core.

His name was jayce talis born into a village, a town nothing the size of piltover family of reknown due to its craftsmenship. Him, his father and mother a happy family a simple life. Until noxus attacked seeking resources, men, room to grow. His village didnt submit fast enough so noxus burned everything and anyone that didnt beg for mercy. jayce saw death beyond what anyone should see, saw his father cut before his eyes as his begged for him to run. The city burned for days as the few survivors fled, many groups were formed to flee to piltover or elsewhere and many broke apart. He and his mom seperated from the group traveled through the mountains and almost met a final death to its cold.

That is when destiny set its path on jayce. As the cold inticed an endless sleep a man appeared from the blizzard and jayce for the first time witnessed magic a power beyond the limits of man and this mage saved him and his mother teleporting them warmer, greener..and when asked how this was done. A tiny crystal plopped into his hands.

What he saw in his youth engrained in his brain and a goal, a passion, a destiny was locked into his mind. He needed to recreate this because if it could do good for him it could do good for their city, for the under…for the entire world.

Yet, he alone was not the man to unlock its secrets….sure to the world, his friends, those that saw him. He was an athetlic, handsome, young lad yet people seemed to only see positives or things they could use from him…and inside he was none of those things. He was a man who suffered from antisocial behaviors, anxiety, and an overwhelming sense that he alone carried this idea, this world on his shoulders…yet at that same time he ignored these issues believing them to a symptom of long days and long nights and these issues grew leading to panick attacks small or large, sickness and weariness. Yet he was alone for most of it and no one really knew not even himself truly. Denial is a strong thing.

Yet…an unlikely set of events occurred one that would shape his destiny forever…a robbery gone wrong and meeting someone who would become a friend for life…viktor. Viktor was the missing piece to his puzzle, the brain, the smarts, a friend a true friend that could understand him..truly for who he was…more then just..a golden boy…and together they created something that would change the world. Hex tech.

Act 2: The rise and fall.

3 long years since jayce met his bestfriend in the entire world viktor and together they created something he only dreamed of being able to create. Hextech and with it they have changed the world uniting it in ways they simply werent possible before. Yet these growths led to issues…jayces status grew, considerability. Going from an national icon of piltover to leading the best tech industry in the world and then…a council member and most of these choices not of his own design it was either forced, coerced or manipluated…and before he could get his head on a swivel it was too late and he was now this.

Another issue was growing with hextech….yes they had made incredible advances the unstable crystals were now stable and with they could act as power sources for amazing pieces of technology…and with or without the councils permission he was going to reveal it to the world he had a goal…yet the world had other plans for him. All the stress, all the struggle, lack of sleep and hunger. Then progress day. A surprise that he was to lead the speech of the day.

Despite the worlds insistance that he was charasmatic confident man he was simpyy wasnt. Sure with friends and those close to him he could talk your ear off but a large crowd compounding with everything else? It ended the way you would assume it did. Stress, upon stress, upon stress compounding harder and harder and harder and before jayce could even take a single step onto the stage his brain simply couldnt take it any more and snapped.

The next thing he knew he woke up in a hospital…doctors ruled it a massive panick attack that caused him to pass out taking quite a tumble as he did so.

This was only the beginning to his troubles though. With it becoming public that piltovers golden boy was instead an antisocial axienty ridden mess his status and…well i suppose the councils tolerance for his lack of bending to their will was compounding things further then it came.

The last crack….

Act 3: Obsession

Viktor was dying. The chemicals and gases of his childhood had been slowly eroding away his body and now it seems he had reached his limit and his only hope? Hexcore a new invention. Magic that learns, however viktor was having no such successes with it. No combination, no attempt, no theory or equation was working and with each failure viktor grew more desperate, more crazed, more worried….yet unknown to even viktor the news of his death. The knowing that the man who saved him, that knew him more then anyone else, that without he would have been reported as another scientist who tried too hard and the world ate him alive following failure another casuality of science. Without viktor..there would be no jayce. Without viktor…there was nothing, no hope…nothing.

The only chance was hexcore and the hexcore…knew it. Impossible, insane but it was true…jayce began to have dreams….runes, a combination…He saw unlimited power, the power of healing, the power to save viktor. He saw himself eyes glowing radiating with pure raw magic…yet nothing he attempted with the machine worked on its own…then the theory.

Everything he knew about magic, about it how cultivated, how it stained this world for years then disappeared…it made him realize if magic was so terrifying, so plentiful that heimidinger was so terrifed of it that even in this abstract it scared him…what if magic could be learned by anyone? Why would magic have such specifics of who and why and how it could be manifested? It would explain the man who saved him who seemed almost magical himself even without the crystal.

If this theory was correct…he could possibly cultivate magic within himself…however since the times of magic humanity has hardend, grown in touch with the more logical, the stone of the earth. They had grown harsh to the encroachment of magic….which means he would need something to help his body accept change along with something that could harness the power of the hexcore, and like a filter transfer that raw magic into himself without killing himself.

These answers wouldnt be found in piltover though….besides himself and viktor no one dares to look into these changes…no in order to save viktor…he needs to find help within the undercity. No matter its costs…he would save his friend even if he has to become a monster to do so.

Act 4: Ruin

Fire, broomstone, pain...destruction. So many emotions, groaning through his form after the explosion. A council meeting that saw to it the possible chance of finally doing some good instead of the slow rolling ball of destruction that was filtering through piltover into zaun.

Ruined all with a single explosion.

He hadnt been strong enough then, he hadn't been strong enough now...would he be strong enough going forward?

Death...so much death and ruin...

Viktor

He could barely remember his own feet moving, picking up the other and running, he hadn't been fast enough, he hadn't worked it out enough. He hadn't done enough.

Only a single choice now, it was amazing he could barely click it until later but they had both been secretly using it, both to save him..but viktor had used it so much more hadn't he?

It pulled to him, he merely guided it forward...viktor would hate him, despise him, but he didn't have a choice...he had failed too many people, his own weakness had gotten so many killed, never again...never again.

The combination barely filtered through his own mind he was moving purely off panic, something happened to the combination fusing the explosion of magic...

Caught in the crossfires, he was stable..but in that moment, he saw...everything...too fast to comprehend...the crystals in his arms groaned and flared with pain....but it worked... Viktor was stable, some kind of cocoon...but he was stable.

Act 5: The abyss

Jayce had always been teetering between sanity and the abyss, but with everything going on he felt like he had taken the plunge, caitlyns mom dying, stability between Zaun and Piltover was no longer a balancing act it was between war and full annihilation war.

His mind was beginning to unravel locked away barely had time to focus on other people he can barely remember visiting Caitlyn he can barely remember Mel checking up on him. His thoughts were flashing thrumming white noise as the hex-core began showing him more and more. He'd sleep, and wake up in the lab with more notes, papers, designs, and mathematics he couldn't remember writing.

Hallucinations were becoming more frequent he swore he could feel his father's hand on his shoulder pointing him to solutions, whispers in his mind. Reality slipping, breaking away...eyebags inside eyebags, muttering, frantic writing.

Viktor had to awake...he had to...he was all he had left, and then he did....but Viktor woke to something no longer resembling Jayce, sanity slipped off the edge hollow eyes stared at his friend. Joy, comfort, and stability all for a second but Viktor saw only the madman that Jayce had become...so he left, out of fear, pity, worry, or perhaps logically some proximity away from the hex-core now fused within him could help to stabilize Jayce.

It ripped further at Jayce, viktors leaving...but he couldn't hit rock bottom, he was already there...

Act 6: Recovery and the Anomaly

Viktors leaving had put a final hole in his heart, but even with all of it, even with so much lost his brain continued on, lugging his body on even if all he wanted to do was curl up and die. He had failed in every single aspect, from youth to now. He didn't save zaun, he didn't make peoples lives better, he didn't save those he cared about. Every single thing went wrong.

He resigned from the council, and stuck to his lab, some days felt like treading through a slog, and some days he could barely feel himself breathe let alone eat or sleep. Some days were better, Some days felt normal, weeks past and he had slowly begun to feel a semblance of normalcy, working in the lab, working to keep working. Then one day, he found Heimdinger and someone he didn't know breaking into his lab.

A complication, a growth, a mutation. Corruption, the horrifying idea that hextech even that he had brought ruin with. The only solution was to investigate the source, which turned to be one of the best and worse ideas of his life. The anomaly...a living representation of a wild rune..or something more..and of course he touched it.

Act 7: Rebirth

He saw impossible things, felt impossible things, in a second it was like his entire world split and slammed back together over and over again. All his worries, fears, traumas heightened, purified, both mind and body as the anomaly completed his earlier experiments...fulfilled his destiny...he saw horrors, he saw beauty, he saw and even go to walk in a few...he learned something in all that he saw beauty and horror, horror was led by the lack of will and the beauty was made by those who had the will to shape their worlds. Or at least, that's how he saw it....heimdinger once said that magic corrupts, consumes, changes...the anomaly fed off and fueled every woe, desire, anger, trauma inside jayce's body.

His form fully crystalized outside his face, his body flowed with magic, with power, the ability...no the opportunity to reshape the world to his image.

No more weakness, no more suffering, no more disease...he saw the patterns the symbols the runes...now he had the will.

Act 8: The end

Jayce reappeared, forcing himself back into his world, pullover...changed, broken, reforged, and reborn.. A lifetime of suffering, a lifetime of pain culminating to a single moment...

He would save Piltover and zaun...bring forth a new age. The jayce talis of before was gone...The herald of magic was here...and by luck or fate it seemed that Piltover was free. free of Ambessa, free of Caitlyn, free of all those that could have put up some kind of a front. All down in Zaun chasing after viktor...

But he, he knew what to do...he had..no needed to force a new age. A transformation...

Noxians left in the city? Erdicated, those not loyal, brought to heel, those loyal, converted. The council? Splintered.

One ruler, one mage, one vision.

...with a touch he a word he could imbue...people with magic and reappearing in the center of the hexgate...he had all the power in the world to reshape piltover...

No more weakness, no more disease, no more pain, no more suffering.

By the end of the day piltover as it was, was gone...to those outside it watched as enforcers converted half crystal half flesh, watched as towering etheral towers and walls enclosed the city and the slow construction of a spire slowly building atop the highest hexgate.

Those below, those down below be they enemies or friends have to put aside their own wants..or else the world they knew it would end.

Seen once as the golden boy of tomorrow now lost in the confines of his own mind, his own madness has turned to force the world into a new age of power...whether it wanted it or not.

A divergent finale?

Act 7: Two heralds.

What if instead of the anomaly fracturing Jayce further and descending him to the route his entire life seemed to be pushing him towards, he retained more of himself? Retained more hope? What if he hadn't taken over Piltover or killed Viktor, instead going to the commune not to destroy it but to help it? What would the world look like if two heralds led a new age?

#Jayce Talis: Tomrrow came #Bio

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who-do-i-know-this-man-s3 · 9 months ago

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Hi I know this is an annoying question that comes back but here's the thing. I have a submission of characters that's a duo and always go together. They are two seperate being, so I may as well submit one of them, but I still want to know if I can submit the two. They won't have a wiki page since they're not from any media. Again, sorry for the annoying ask.

Ehhh... no, I think that they should be submitted separately. Sorry.

Also, sorry for the question in return, but if they're not from any media, what're they from?

#asks

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thevoidwrites · 2 months ago

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Yaqeen Ramadan Reflections: Day 3

The Other Side

This world is just a stage, where you are being watched and discussed by the angels and Allah. What do you think they are discussing about your reputation? Can you think of a specific daily act that can alter your reputation with Allah?

"There she goes again" I can't help but think about the repetitiveness of sins or bad habits. But, one can only "return" to a bad habit if they left it in the first place. So, as much as "there she goes again" might be seen negatively and my brain will push me to think of all the bad things I keep repeating, I hope they also see all the time I leave a sin, and start a new good habit, and regret my decisions, hastening to fix them quickly this time. I want to kiss my parents' feet eveyday. I don't know how long we have left together now that they're as grey as they are. And even if I go first, I want to have done all I can toward them. They are the clearest door I've seen in my life that can lead me to Jannah, or not. May Allah bless them with good health and bless me to treat them well as long as we both live.

Quran 30 for 30

Just learned that I misunderstood this verse previously thinking that كافة meant 'O believers enter into submission together' I thought the verse was warning about seperating into sects and making enemies of each other.

That's always the struggle though, isn't it? You submit to some commands so easily as if Sahytan has never whispered to you before. And with some other commands it can take years just for you to eevn understand that this is cruicial to your deen. May Allah guide us all.

All the roads lead back to "The faith is between Patience and Gratitude" as stated by Ibn AlQayym. I'm not as grateful as I expect of myself with all the blessings I have in my life. And patience is a new concept all together.

Comforting to know that Allah is aware that you are trying to change, or even intend to change, even when you're still the same old you. Allah knows when you look at yourself with shame that you've fallen into what you shouldn't have. I pray He forgives me when I feel this broken by my weakness.

#yaqeen #yaqeen institute #quran 30 for 30 #the other side #ramadan 1446 #quran reflections #mine #writing

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found-family-tournament · 2 years ago

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Found Family Tournament Round 1 Part 19 Group 95

Propaganda and further pictures under the cut

Cheer Factory: Goo & Bot

Submissions are still open!

Cheer Factory:

waves at you . hi !!!!! (pastes in my pre made rant and slightly edits and adds onto i

you have NO IDEA how much ‘found family’ energy these two give off (unless yyou do . by coincidence.uhm) like?? they find out theyre on the pink team and BOTH bot and goo shout “YEAHHH,, PINK TEAM !!” in unison . and then they immediately start getting along throughout the show . they are siblings to me they are the duo ever theyre like so silly theyre like two little kids in a trench coat/pos

okay so let me talk about bot first of all bot is . theyre heavily implied to be trans actually NO not heavily implied it’s practically CANON because bot is supposed to be the robot replica of a dead person named bow but later on they say they “aren’t bow” and that they wanna be a different person !!!! in the newer episodes literally when they were drawing what they wanna look like they put they/them on the paper and it was shown ON SCREEN !!!!!/pos/silly and in the new episode they GOT their new look and when they noticed their eyelashes were gone and all the other cool details they got they said “it’s so… me !! :D” ALSO: this small speech they gave

“yknow, lately ive been worried,, if i went by a different name, or maybe even ,, looked a little different.. i wouldnt be me anymore., but you helped me realize that,, no matter what you put out there.. youre still you” UWAHHHHHH/POS okay now goo second of all goo is like the silliest little goofball ive seen on a web series . he dances with PINECONES and makes weird analogies and made a 3 hour film for bot after they came out he did NOT deserve to be voted out for that i really hope they reunite because they didnt get to talk much before goo’s elimination and not ONLY that but literally goo got eliminated BEFORE he got to see bot’s new look he doesn’t even know that their name is bot he still thinks its tbd as far as i know (also because the only pictures of them together so far are literally before bot got their new look so. im gonna have to separate them when i submit photos💔💔) and the interaction right before his elimination was like kinda awkward unfortunately but it made me sob/hj

"yeah,, i liked it !! but.. it was,,. a lot :[ listen goo,, i-i dont need this new identity to be such a big grand spectacle , i just want you to treat me like. llike me . with all the uncertainty lately, it helps everything feel just a bit more,, normal , yknow .?" “oh,, ohfor sure ,! i get it !! it’s like,, you just wanted a slice of cake, and i went and gave you the whole bakery ,:D !!” “hehe, yyup, nailed it !! ,:)” ↑↑↑ UWAHHHHHHH😭/LH/POS and third of all their alliance name they are literally called THE CHEER FACTORY because they wanna CHEER PEOPLE UP and they did !!!!! they cheered up clover and the floor ithink yes the floor is a character ssshshshshhsshh and goo literally lost one of the challengesbecause he laughed at the floor’s joke AND HE DID NOT CARE he was just glad he got to cheer somebody up !!!!! “another satisfied customer at the,, CHEER FACTORY !!! :D” LITERALLY HE WAS SO HAPPY and also when they were separated into two seperate teams goo is IMMEDIATELY sad when he notices bot isnt with him “sigh… i guess the cheer factory has become the.., cheer llc. :[“ I FELT SO BAD FOR THE BOTH OF THEM also can you tell whos my favorite/hj/lh anyways theyre silly theyre blorbos theyre the duo ever and thats why they should be in this competition (psssssst pstpst hhey im not gonna force you or anything btw but watch this video that interviews goo after he got eliminated from the show please/nf/ ineed to provide more evidence/hj/lh) || https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eb4iAbI2f3s

goo literally made a video that was like 3 hours.long which was dedicated to bot's new identity after they said they were a robot and weren't "bow" and also they both have their own silly little alliance in the show called "The Cheer Factory" ❗❗❗ cmon theyre like. theyre literally like two little kids in a trenchcoat/silly theyrefound family siblings to me

Naruto & Umino:

everyone in the village hated naruto since the day he was born bc of the demon that lives in his insides somewhere (this sounds crazy if you haven't seen the show but trust me here). iruka was his teacher at school. when everyone was graduating, naruto failed and some side character told him that if he stole a secret scroll he'd pass (since he failed). they were using him tho, and were planning on killing him (i think). and then iruka goes after him and finds him with the scroll before the other person did, and was the first person to actively defend naruto, and was the first person to believe him and see him as the person he was (he's like 12 here btw). and then, iruka always acts as a father figure to naruto, and at the very end of the series, when naruto gets married, he asks iruka to be his father at his wedding. i cried like a little bitch and i swear to god i just lvoe them so much. i doubt anyone will submit them butAAAAAA. ALSO IRUKA PASSED HIM IN THE END AND GAVE HIM HIS OWN FUCKING HEADBAND!!! SOBS AND CRIES AND SCREAMS

iruka was the first person to ever believe in naruto. it’s mentioned throughout the story how much of an impact iruka had on naruto just by believing in him, and it’s super sweet. the real kicker is that at the end of the show, naruto asks iruka to play the role of his father at his wedding, and i will never not cry about it!! literally look at them!!! never shutting up about this!!

#tumblr polls #poll #polls #tournament poll #found family #found family tournament 2023 #tumblr tournament #tournament #Cheer Factory #Inanimate Insanity #Naruto Uzumaki #Iruka Umino #Naruto #Goo #Bot

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tokusaatsus · 3 years ago

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this has been in my mind lately, can i request izumi and madara (seperated please!) having a late night drive with their bike with their s/o <33 im having a bikerboy izumi brainrot rn i don't think im okay.

☆—MIKEJIMA MADARA

You’re curled up on the couch in the dorm, feet tucked beneath you as you leaf through the proposals submitted for the next Fes. It’s nearing 11PM, but you’re not tired and you want to try to be productive for a bit, to try and take some pressure off of poor Producer-chan.

Seriously, those guys take her for granted!? It’s no wonder you’re her favourite, what with the way the others treat her…

Chk!

The sound of something hitting the windowpane makes your head shoot up from where you were poring over Valkyrie’s requirements for their next Live. Huh? You dismiss it. It was probably just a falling branch or something.

Chk!

Your eye twitches. It’s fine. It’s fine.

Chk! Chk! Chk!

Oh my fucking God. You stand up, scowling fiercely. I’m going to kill you, you think viciously. Like, who the fuck throws shit at someone’s window at fucking 11:19 in the night? If your poor dormmates had the tragic luck of seeing you right now, they’d probably be cowering in terror at the intense amount of bloodlust emanating from your body.

You slam open the window frame, ready to give whoever it is a piece of your mind, and just narrowly miss getting headshotted by a rock. Only your quick reflexes prevent any lasting damage, and you feel a vein throb in your forehead.

Why, you little…

“Y/N-saaaan!”

Wh. What. You think you may be hallucinating

No way…

You lean over the edge, and standing just below you, so close you could literally reach out and touch him, is none other than Mikejima Madara, in the flesh and definitely not a hallucination.

“Madara-kun…? What are you doing?”

“I wanted to see you!” You flush. Jeez, he’s so honest about these things. He grins when he sees the way you duck to hide your blushing face. And, oh wow. That’s way too bright for 11:27 at night. “Come down!”

You blink. You can’t deny, his face is a welcome sight after 2 or so hours of reading reports in various handwriting, ranging from neat and pretty (Shu-kun) to downright horrible–what you’re certain is a bastardised version of English and Kanji (Chiaki-kun). But you hesitate, because whatever work you leave now means more work for Producer-chan tomorrow.

Still, you’ve found yourself missing him lately. With all his Double Face work, and how you’ve been busy chasing after everyone, you’ve barely been able to spend any time together in the past few weeks.

Your resolve practically collapses after you take a look at his smiling face. I can’t say no to that face, you lament piteously.

“Yeah, okay…” You concede. You swing one leg over the bottom edge of the window frame, and begin the arduous task of squeezing yourself through the gap. As you teeter precariously on the razor’s edge between safety and–well, maybe not death, but certainly injury��you pause. “Madara-kun, if I fell, would you catch me?”

“Of course.” The answer comes immediately.

You smile at him, softly. “Okay. Hey, Madara-kun. Catch.”

You push yourself fully off of the window, fully trusting the man below you to catch you in his arms. It’s stupid, sure, but maybe he makes you stupid. And your implicit trust is rewarded as you collapse straight into strong arms, like the perfect bridal carry.

“Y/N-saaaan!” Madara cries out. “Why did you do that? What if I didn’t catch you?”

“I knew you would,” You say. “I trust you.”

That makes him pause, just a bit, before he takes it in stride. Still, you can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. He seems to shake himself, then does an abrupt turn and starts marching towards the dorm entrance. You squawk.

“Ah, Madara-kun, put me down?”

“No way!” He chirps. “What happens if Y/N-san gets cold? I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Madara-kun!”

You smack him, affronted. You are not a delicate maiden, or whatever! Despite the fact that you get cold easily, it’s nothing you can’t handle… Still, you find yourself just a tiny bit grateful for the fact that he exudes warmth like a furnace. You resist the urge to snuggle closer. It would be, frankly, embarrassing.

He comes to a stop in front and you squirm out of his arms, wincing when the wet grass squelches unpleasantly under your slippers.

You freeze, caught in the aura of an absolutely gorgeous being, and you feel your soul cleanse itself just by standing in the vicinity of this beautiful lady. You rush forwards to run your hands over the smooth curves and ridges.

“Oh, Baby-chan…” You sigh. “You’re looking lovely…”

Madara-kun laughs behind you. “Sometimes, I think Y/N-san only puts up with me for Baby-chan…but she is very beautiful, isn’t she?”

“You’ve found me out.” You deadpan. “Baby-chan and I are having an illicit affair.”

“I knew it!” Madara-kun makes a mock-affronted noise, but you can see the faint undercurrent of hurt running through it. Maybe someone else might not have noticed, but you’ve spent enough time with him to be able to tell.

You laugh. “Don’t worry, though. You’re still my favourite.”

He smiles as he mounts Baby-chan. “That’s how it should be~ Anyways, climb on!”

You do so, with necessary wariness as he wears his helmet. As much as you love Baby-chan (and Madara-kun, you suppose…), high speeds are not for you, especially in a vehicle without seatbelts. He revvs the engine, and Baby-chan purrs in a way that sends shivers down your spine. “Ready?” He calls over his shoulder. You tighten your arms around his waist. “Hold on tight!”

And you’re off. The streetlights flare yellow as they catch in puddles of water dripping along the roadside. The scenery blurs as you ride past, a flurry of monochrome–black and grey, the moonlight washing everything out. It’s scary.

It’s beautiful.

Baby-chan growls once again, and you flinch. The way he swerves into hairpin turns makes you feel like your heart is going to beat straight out of your chest and onto the road. Of course Madara-kun would be the adrenaline-junkie sort of driver…

“Having fun?”

“Hng. I think we left my stomach behind a few turns back.” You bury your face into his back, grateful that it’s late enough that no one is out and about to see you being such a baby. So undignified! You feel his chest rumble with laughter. “What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing, nothing! Ah, just…Y/N-san is soooo cute, I want to kiss you right now…”

A beat of silence, while he waits for his words to register in your dizzy brain.

Then:

“HUH!?”

☆—SENA IZUMI

Gorgeous ♡

come to the dorm entrance i have something to show you

You

???

i–

babe what???

Read at 03:31 AM

ok then

omw ig

Read at 03:34 AM

You shove your fingers into your pockets to stave off the cold as you hover nervously near the gates. It’s late, and you’re really lucky ES is pretty lax with curfew. You suppose you have UNDEAD to thank for that, what with all the nighttime Lives they do. You make a note to thank them later.

“Hey,”

You perk up. “Babe, hi! What’s up–oh my God.” Stowing your phone in your pocket as you turn around to catch sight of…

Your boyfriend, dressed impeccably as usual in jeans and a button-up shirt, a leather jacket tossed carelessly over his shoulder (you’re kind of jealous? He looks good in anything. He could probably make a potato sack look good, if you’re being honest?), a silver helmet tucked under one arm. But that’s unimportant. The part you really care about is:

The absolutely gorgeous bike leaning next to him. Silver, with black and chrome tints. A cruiser by the looks of it, with a larger bulky shape, unlike the smooth, streamlined body of Mikejima’s beloved ‘Baby-chan’.

Wow.

Izumi smirks at you. “Like what you see?”

You laugh giddily. “Yes! It’s beautiful.”

“I know.” He scowls briefly as your words register. “I’m not an ‘it’.”

You blink, disconcerted. “I know? I was talking about the bike?”

“Oh.”

You clasp your hands together pleadingly. That bike is the most gorgeous motherfucking thing you’ve ever laid eyes on–second only to Izumi who is literally the single most beautiful thing ever created, so that doesn’t count–and you’ll be damned if you don’t get to ride it at least once.

“Can I drive it? Please? Pretty please?”

Izumi scoffs and turns his head away, but you think you can see the faintest colouring of pink rising in his cheeks. “Sure, whatever.”

He tosses you the keys, and you suppress a squeal. “Best boyfriend ever! Did I ever tell you how I am literally, like, sooooo in love with you?”

“Ew, stop being gross!?”

You roll your eyes lovingly, because if you look up tsundere in the dictionary Izumi’s face is probably the first picture you’ll see. You hop on the bike, and motion for Izumi to follow after. He does so hesitantly, a sour look forming on his face, but you’re too busy running your hands reverently over the sleek metal fastenings to notice.

“Hime~chan,” You murmur, slow and sensual, trying to channel your inner Izumi, the one who’s a part of Knights, who has fans thirsting over him on Tweeter. “Let me give you the best night of your life~”

“Are you…are you dirty-talking a motorbike right now?”

Izumi’s voice is full of derision and barely-concealed annoyance. You turn to look at him. “Who else would I dirty-talk to?”

The subsequent affronted look that appears on his face makes you want to burst out laughing. You force yourself to think of sad, depressing things so you don’t. Sad puppies, sad Mikejima’s, Hakaze when he tries so Goddamn hard to get a date… Yup, that’ll do it.

You revv up the engine, revelling in the roar that vibrates through your fucking bones. “Izumi, are you holding on?”

He places his hands lightly upon your shoulders, and you giggle before reaching behind you to tug his arms tightly around your waist because that’s not going to save him from being thrown off. He makes an aborted sound before he goes silent. “Ready?”

He taps a single finger against your hip, agreement, and you don’t waste a second before you’re tearing across the asphalt like this is Tokyo Drift and you’re the main character (does this make Izumi your love interest?).

The wind tears through your hair, and you know it’s going to be Hell to detangle later, but hey. What’s the use of having a sexy, sexy supermodel boyfriend if he doesn’t pamper you sometimes?

You speed up, just a bit. Just for the thrill. Head thrown back, you laugh as you swerve a perfect U for the next turn, loud and wild and free.

You can feel Izumi’s heart beating a panicked staccato against your chest, so you make an effort to slow down. His grip is tight, nails digging into the curve of your hips, face buried into the curve of your neck. His breathing gradually lessens from the terrified high it had been earlier and by the time you stop in front of the Starmony Dorms, it’s evened out entirely.

You pat the tail-end of the bike lovingly as you flick the kickstand out with the toe of your sneakers. “Oh, Hime~chan, you were wonderful tonight~ I had so much fun!”

Izumi reaches for you at the same time you turn to face him and you find yourself pinned against the wall, his hands framing either side of your head. “I… Izumi?”

“You’re sooo annoying, did you know that?” He huffs. “This whole time, you haven’t looked at me once. What’s up with that? Do you think your bike,”–“Hime-chan,” you correct, much to his annoyance–“is better than me?”

“N-no, of course not.”

“Then what does ‘Hime-chan’ have that I don’t!” Izumi’s brows are furrowed. You soften.

“Aw, babe, if you were jealous you could’ve just told me…” You say, ignoring his mutter of ‘I’m not jealous’. That’s adorable…! “You’re always number one in my heart!”

You lean forward to knock your forehead against his. He wrinkles his nose cutely but doesn’t pull away or complain about the close proximity, just entangles his fingers with yours. “I love you more than anything, okay?”

A mumbled ‘okay’ is your only response, and you smile.

The night sky smiles down on your lover, and you. What more could you possibly need at this moment?

OMAKE:

“When you said ‘Hime-chan’ is gorgeous, did you mean more gorgeous than me?”

“Oh, my God.”

☆—notes!

WC: 2k words

HOLY SHIT wtf i wrote. 2k words. for THIS??? huh??? ty anonnie for fuelling my brainworms, now i have fuckin leather jacket bikerboys on the brain sobs. ik my subtle mama bias is showing but ur honour i love him. also i hc babychan as a naked bike since she’s pretty sleek as far as i can tell? + her handlebars are thinner and i don’t think she has a front windshield so yeah… anyways i saw this as my chance to ramble abt bikes (bcuz bikes are my guilty pleasure!!) so im sorry if u learnt shit abt bikes u didn’t need to know. also tokyo drift is a fast&furious movie jsyk!! not me subtly dragging kaoru LMFAO i swear i love him. i hope u enjoyed this anonnie <3!! bcuz i rlly had fun writing this (which is why it’s so long incase u couldn’t tell sobs)

#✒️...scribbles!#mikejima madara x reader #sena izumi x reader #enstars x reader #mikejima madara #sena izumi #MaM #knights

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idanazaldrizes · 2 years ago

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SOMETIMES SHE MANAGES TO FORGET THAT SYRAX WAS CLAIMED AND NOT HATCHED BY HER MOTHER. The two seem interwined in a way, like they've had their entire lives together. Aerea can not imagine growing up without the warmth of a hatchling, tiny claws and fragile wings submitting to the act of being tucked in at night, if only for the love of their rider. Though it can not be denied that she longs for the days she is permitted to fly Seafyre freely, trusted as a Dragonrider in her own right and not escorted at all times, as much as she treasures taking to the skies alongside the other riders of Dragonstone. (Not that long ago, Aerea had imagined kepa and his Seasmoke amongst that number.)

"Then perhaps I will ask Seafyre to aid her as well. Is it not a daughter's duty, to aid her mother?" though her feelings on the word have soured since that night on Driftmark, the rest holds true. Her mother has seemed more assured, settled in her own skin, ruling Dragonstone proper. (Since marrying Daemon.) Still, a hot tea carried by small hands on a stressful day, or walks along the surf have never gone unappreciated.

"Maester Gerardys was teaching of the North and their Old Gods. According to the Northerners, the Old Gods see through the Heart trees." The Weirwood tree of the capital has no carved face but belongs to them all the same, she wonders if they ever tire of the endless darkness, if anyone has ever thought to carve them proper eyes. (There had always been something different about those days spent under red leaves, a part of her hopes they could hear their contentment at least, their appreciation for the safety given.)

"The boys only pester because i am better with a blade." Than Luke for a certainty, though she would consider herself and Jace almost on even footing. Whatever advantages the Westerosi think being a man may grant her brother, Aerea matches with pure ferocity, a determination thrumming in her blood that FORBIDS her from failing. Her dreaming hours are oft plagued by storms and blood since Driftmark, as if a warning from the Flames she does not yet understand - Aerea is no Dreamer, does not spout riddles and cryptid warnings like Aunt Helaena.

"It is strange, not being surrounded by brothers on all sides but i do love Rhaena. Aunt Helaena was not permitted much interaction outside of our lessons, unlike.. our uncles in the Dragonpit." She can not fault her Aunt her mother-made prison, knows as well as any girl in Westeros should that she was given no say in her marriage to Aegon but she wishes her chains were not so tight, that Aerea may take to the skies and one day see her astride Dreamfyre, friend not foe.

"It's not fair that Rhaena and Baela must be so seperated, muna."

Rhaenyra holds her girl close as they walk and huffs a laugh at the idea of Syrax hunting for her. "My sweet girl, I'm afraid my beautiful golden Lady is far too noble for such things. Hunting is beneath her, she thinks. This is what happens when you let a seven year old princess claim a dragon - they end up spoiled rotten. She enjoys chasing them, but Caraxes has to kill them for her." It is no secret that - unlike most other dragons, Syrax has never been interest in catching her own food. She is perfectly content with being fed, though she has grown more used to living a freer life on Dragonstone, surrounded by other dragons who have not yet entirely forgotten their nature. Caraxes has taught her a thing or two and Rhaenyra is grateful for it. She cannot help but think that she has done her dragon a disservice by letting her be so spoiled and taming her too much, given she might need her survival instincts one day. Rhaenyra is her first rider, but will not be her last. Dragons can live centuries and there may come times when Syrax will need to provide for herself.

"Tell me about your day, sweet girl. How are your lessons? Are the boys pestering you?" Being the only girl among boys hasn't always been easy for her daughter, Rhaenyra knows that, though she also trusts that Aerea can handle her brothers fairly well. Jace and Luke have also gotten into significantly less mischief since being removed from the company of their young uncles Aegon and Aemond - something for which Rhaenyra is grateful. Life on Dragonstone has been good for all five children, even though it is undoubtedly still an adjustment for them to get used to Daemon and Baela. When she married the rogue prince, she was already pregnant with little Aegon and now, one year later, another babe will join them. It has been a lot of change for her children and she tries to be mindful of that. Their well being is always her first priority. "Do you get along with Rhaena? And Daemon?"

#* blood of the dragon 「ic」#* mother is god in the eyes of a child. 「dyn; aerea & rhaenyra」#& Rhaenyra Targaryen / wcrriorhearts #//me realising aerea's actually babier than i thought in this thread 🥺#//she can have a little dodging talking about daemon - as a treat

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