#who wouldn't show his opponents his next move

[zeroseuniverse]

Respect is Earned

Word Count:980 Summary: This wasn't about entertainment. It wasn't about survival, either. It was about something bigger. Respect. Pairing: Han Jisung X Fem Reader

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The underground fight club smelled of sweat, blood, and desperation. Dim lights flickered above the ring, casting jagged shadows on the stained concrete floor. Fighters milled around the space, some stretching, others gauging their competition with sharp, wary eyes. The air buzzed with murmurs—bets being placed, debts being counted, names being whispered.

Some names carried weight. Other names were uttered with a sneer.

"The poser showed up tonight," someone muttered near the betting tables.

"Tch. What for? No one cares about him. He's not the real deal."

"Yeah, but he acts like he is. Probably here to pretend he's still one of us."

The conversation faded into the hum of the room, but the tone was unmistakable—dismissive, unimpressed. Whoever they were talking about wasn't respected here. This was a sharp contrast to the way fighters spoke of others, of legends who had clawed their way to the top with nothing but bruised knuckles and sheer will.

She kept her focus on the ring. The fight about to start was nothing special—two desperate men throwing wild punches, neither with enough training to make it last long. But that wasn't why she was here. This wasn't about entertainment. It wasn't about survival, either. It was about something bigger.

Respect.

She adjusted the tape around her wrists, steadying her breathing. No one here knew her yet. That would change soon enough.

A few feet away, another quiet conversation drifted past her.

"He's watching the new ones. Probably waiting to see who's worth keeping around."

"Like he even knows what that means."

She didn't look. Whoever he was, whatever weight his name carried or didn't, he didn't matter. Not yet.

The only thing that mattered was stepping into that ring and ensuring they remembered her when she stepped out.

The announcer's voice cut through the noise, calling out the next match. Her name echoed through the room, unfamiliar to most but soon to be known. A few fighters turned, giving her the once-over, weighing her in their minds before dismissing her just as quickly.

She stepped forward, rolling her shoulders, letting the anticipation settle into her bones. The fighter across from her was bigger, heavier, the kind that relied on brute force rather than technique. He smirked, cracking his knuckles as if this were just another easy win.

She let him believe it.

The bell rang, and he lunged.

She moved faster.

A sidestep, a sharp strike to his ribs. A flicker of surprise crossed his face before he swung again. Sloppy. Predictable. She ducked and countered, her fist connecting cleanly with his jaw. The crowd stirred, murmurs shifting in tone. Interest.

She kept her expression neutral, kept her mind focused. This wasn't just about winning. It was about proving she belonged.

From somewhere in the crowd, unseen but present, someone watched with narrowed eyes. The poser. He wasn't impressed. Not yet.

But he would be.

The fight didn't last much longer. Her opponent recovered from the blow to his jaw, but his attacks grew reckless, desperate to overpower her with brute strength. She let him tire himself out, dodging each wild swing with calculated precision. When she struck again, it was with purpose—a sharp kick to the side of his knee, a swift elbow to his temple. He staggered, his balance lost. One final strike to the ribs, and he collapsed to the ground, wheezing.

The referee counted. The match was over.

A mix of reactions rippled through the crowd. Some scoffed, unimpressed. Others murmured in grudging approval. A few exchanged money, irritated at losing their bets. She didn't react, only turning away from her fallen opponent and stepping out of the ring, her heart pounding, adrenaline still coursing through her veins.

The respect she wanted wouldn't come from a single fight. She knew that. It had to be earned, piece by piece.

She wiped the sweat from her brow as she made her way toward the bookkeeper's table. A grizzled man behind the counter barely spared her a glance as he shoved a small envelope across the surface. "Your cut," he grunted. "Don't spend it all in one place."

She took the envelope, weighing it in her palm. The money inside wasn't much, not compared to the bets flying around the room, but it was enough. Enough to keep her going. Enough to help someone else. She slipped it into her pocket without counting it, already knowing where it was needed most.

She spotted a younger fighter slumped against the wall, fresh from a brutal loss. His lip was split, his knuckles raw, and the way he clutched his side told her the damage went deeper than what was visible. Without a word, she knelt beside him, pressing the envelope into his palm.

"What—?" he started, blinking at her in confusion.

"For the next one," she said simply. "Get patched up. Don't let them see you weak."

His fingers tightened around the money, and for a moment, he just stared at her. Then, with a small nod, he tucked it away, pushing himself up despite the pain. Wordless understanding passed between them before he limped off.

As she reached for her water bottle, she caught a few lingering stares from the fighters around her. Calculating. Judging. Weighing her next move.

And then, from the far side of the room, a pair of eyes lingered longer than the rest. The poser wasn't just watching anymore.

He was interested.

The next few fights came fast. Each time she stepped into the ring, she faced a new challenge—opponents stronger, faster, more experienced. But she adapted, learned their weaknesses, and turned their aggression against them. And with every win, the murmurs shifted. The sneers became nods. The dismissive glances turned into measuring looks.

She was no longer just another newcomer. She was something else. A problem. A threat. A name that mattered.

And Han Jisung noticed.

[brookediamonds]

who's the cute boy with the white (black) jacket and the thick accent?

Axel Kovačević x fem! reader

Summary: Landing yourself a spot in the Sekai Taikai with Miyagi-Do, you and your teammates are in Barcelona ready to defeat Cobra Kai once and for all but not without challenges and possibly…romance?

Word count: 2k Warnings: None

Masterlist

Part 2

not my gif

You stood next to Robby, hands behind your back slightly bored rocking on your heels as the photographer snapped photos of the team captains.

“You there in the back,” the camera man speaks up. “Show some emotion.”

You turn your head to your left nosely trying to see whom the photographer was referring to when the tallest man stood over you, dressed in sweats, soft brown hair swept up, and a chiseled face for a teenage boy.

He was rather handsome, almost intimidating by the forced closed mouth smile he was asked to put on.

The tall boy caught your curious eyes, and glanced down at you.

You shoot him a small smile before turning your head back to front not catching the blush the crept on the boy’s cheeks after your small gesture.

“Perfect,” the camera man breathes out when he sees stone cold boy finally crack a smile.

“We’re done here,” the man excused the athletes. You let out a sigh of relief, tucking the strands of your hair back behind your ears and stepping away from the swarm of people.

“Miss,” you hear a deep accent approach from behind you, a large hand lightly tugging at your arm.

You turn swiftly coming face to face with the tall pale boy you met gazes with a few seconds ago. You glance down at his hold on your arm, causing him to step back releasing his grip.

“S-Sorry,” he apologizes. “You dropped this.”

He held out a small crescent moon stud that resembled the earrings you put on daily. You gasp when you realize your right earlobe was in fact missing its normal accessory.

“Oh my god!” You exasperate reaching out for the earring. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” he says curtly before walking past you not giving you time to respond. You frown hoping you might be able to introduce yourself but his long strides sent him halfway down a hall.

You see Sam and Robby walk away from the team, leaving you to wonder the aquarium yourself.

Stopping in front of tank of small colorful fishes you smile to yourself admiring the beauty of the fish swimming amongst each other.

You had dreamt of being given this opportunity to show off your skills and fight for a title that could expand your talent and interests and you were finally here. You had made it.

Noticing your bare ear in your reflection of the glass, you fish out your stud from your pocket of your jeans and attempt to place the earring back in.

Unfortunately it was a flat back earring, and while you were able to place the back of earring in, the front was harder to pin point.

You huffed in frustration squinting at your reflection when you noticed another figure in the corner of your eye.

The chiseled boy from earlier stood calmly diagonal from you, tearing his eyes away from your frustrated state, looking at the large tank in front of him.

“Hey,” you take a step towards him slowly. "I'm (Y/n)."

"Axel," he nods barely sparing you a glance.

"Think you could help me put this back in?" You ask holding up the stud, hoping to start a conversation with the quiet boy.

"I- I'm not supposed to speak to opponent," he attempts to excuse himself. You wouldn't let him get away that easy.

"Competition hasn't started. We're not rivals just yet," you tease him playfully.

Your words make him feel at ease, the corners of his lips turning up. Axel takes a few steps towards you until he's toe-toe with you.

“Can’t get the front back in,” you shrug sheepishly holding up the moon. He nods taking the golden jewel out of your small hand and into his large one.

You move your hair to one side revealing the ear that once held the earring. Gently, he tilts your head to the side allowing him to see properly since you were much shorter than him.

You felt butterflies swarm your stomach at his close proximity, his face came so close to yours making sure to place the stud in securely.

"All done," he says removing his hands from the side of your face.

"Thank you," you smile up at him finally taking in his appearance. The blue water surrounding you both reflected in his dark emerald green eyes, pulling you into a trance.

His eyes flickered to the tank next to you, a pink blush cascading across his porcelian skin.

"Pretty isn't it?" You ask turning to the glass filled with sea creatures in front of you.

"Very pretty," Axel agrees twisting to face the aquatic scenery as well. Afraid he might flee again, you take your phone out.

"Do you mind taking me a picture?" You ask.

"Sure," he grins taking ahold of your phone. You stood leaning against the glass lightly, arms crossed behind your back, slightly tilting your head with a smile.

Axel pressed the screen a few times before bringing the device down.

"Do they look okay?" You ask walking up to him to look at the photos.

"Beautiful," he says catching your attention but quickly corrects himself. "T-They're beautiful."

You blush at his statement, about to respond when Sam calls out for you at the end of the tunnel.

"We're heading out," she says waiting patiently for you. You nod at her before turning back to Axel.

"I'll see you later on the mat?" You almost ask as a promise to see each other later.

"I will see you later," he responds sincerely with a genuine smile. You turn to make your way towards your best friend when Axel spoke your name sending your heart fluttering.

"You forgot this," he says handing you your phone making you smack your head.

"Thanks, once again," you laugh embarrassed. He nods shrugging as in no problem before you finally make it to Sam feeling like a giggly school girl.

"What just happened? And who was that?" Sam filled with excitement ambushes you as you both turn the corner.

You sighed dreamily, already thinking back to the small interaction hoping it wasn't the last.

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

Your team was getting their ass kicked. There was some downtime before the next event leaving you and the team to rest and regather yourselves.

Between Robby being distracted by Tory, Hawk and Demetri arguing, and now Mr. Larusso disappearing before the next round had you nervous about this possibly being the last day for your team.

"Voicemail?" You ask as you and Sam make your way to the competition.

"Yeah, I just hope he's okay," she says putting her phone away. You two suddenly hear grunting and the sound of someone sparring.

You and Sam stop in front of the open studio seeing a familiar face standing in a fighting stance with his sensei whom he was practicing with.

"Stop," the older man holds his gloved hand up. "What are you doing wrong?"

Axel looks down at his stance and shrugs confused when his sensei suddenly brings his gloved hand down smacking the boy.

You cock your head back eyes flitting over to Sam who looked just as surprised as you.

"Again," Axel is demanded. When he tries again, he unfortunately fails.

This time his sensei drops his pad angrily, and smacks Axel on his back five times making you hold your breath as you reach out to Sam, scared.

Axel who was slumped over waiting for the beating to be over, glances up making brief eye contact with you.

Before you can interject, Sam hurriedly pulls you by the wrist to get you two out of there.

"Should we go back and make sure he's okay?" You ask worriedly as you both sped walked to your team.

"Something tells me he's used to it," Sam spoke uneasily. "We're running late, maybe we can talk to him later."

You nod in agreement, Johnny was going to be pissed it took you all so long to get here.

You would find Axel later.

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

After winning your last two events and not being eliminated, the team decided to celebrate and relax by going out to a bar nearby.

You hung out with Sam and Robby for about half an hour until you got bored of the scenery and decided to take a walk by yourself to get some air.

Unclasping your sandals, you remove them before stepping into the cool sand and walking along the water.

The smell of the salt air placed a feeling of ease in you, the sound of the waves crashing music to your ears. A shiver runs down your spine as the breeze gets a little stronger making you regret not bringing a jacket.

As you walked further down the shore, you noticed a tall man moving with grace in the sand just a few feet from you.

It was Axel. And he was shirtless. You gulped attempting to keep your cool.

"Hey!" You call out to him. He jumped mid move startled by your presence, but relaxed once he realized it was you.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, I was just getting some air," you explain.

"It's fine," he reassures you, wanting to go back to his routine.

"It's pretty late to be training isn't it?" You ask walking closer to him.

"Always time for training," he responds before bending down away from you to pick up his shirt and jacket off the sand.

You gasped as he stood up, noticing the pink and purple bruises down his back.

"Axel, your back," you want to reach out but hold yourself back incase you're overstepping. "What happened?"

The tall boy throws his muscle shirt over his head, not meeting your eyes.

"Uh, from bo staff competition," he lies stuttering his words. You narrowed your eyes at him not buying his story.

"Nobody's been able to land a point on you yet," you point out. You had been watching him the entire competition, he was unstoppable and a damn good fighter.

He looks at you at a loss for words, avoiding your sympathetic gaze.

"I saw what happened with your sensei earlier," you spoke quietly. Axel looked defeated, and tired it made you want to just hug and hold him.

"My sensei wants me to be the best," he attempts to justify. "It is because of him, I never lose."

You nod moving closer to him.

"There are other ways of teaching," you shrug. "I mean, I gotta admit your dojo's pretty great."

"Thank you," he finally cracks a smile making me feel warm inside. "You're pretty."

You blush at his statement before he corrects himself. "Your dojo's pretty good too."

"We try," you chuckle.

You walk a step past him before looking back at him.

"Do you want to practice some more or join me for a tiring walk back to the hotel?" You ask jokingly.

He squeezes his black jacket in his hands before moving along with you.

"I'd love to join you," he grins. The wind blows through your white sundress making your teeth slightly chatter catching Axel's attention.

As you wrap your arms around yourself, you suddenly feel something drape around your shoulders. You realize Axel had given you his jacket.

"Thank you," you breathe out slipping your arms through the sleeves. He smiles down at you.

"So you've been watching me?" He spoke as you continued to walk down the sand.

You let out a little laugh, your face turning red from embarrassment.

"I've been watching you too," he says. "You're an amazing fighter, very graceful."

You're taken aback by his words, it meant a lot coming from him. You both stop in your place, facing one another.

"Really?" You ask hoping he wasn't messing with you.

He nods reaching his hand out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear carefully.

Your breathing picked up, nerves running over your body as he brought his hand down your arm and intertwined your hands together.

"Very beautiful as well," he says leaning down slowly. You close your eyes, and stand on your tippy toes to press your lips up against his.

You snake one arm around his neck as he grabbed you by your hips pulling you closer to him. His lips were warm and soft, unhurriedly memorizing the taste of yours.

When you both finally pull apart, Axel is smiling softly down at you, admiring the twinkle in your eyes that shone from the full moon.

"So much for being rivals right?" You joke lazily laying your hands on his chest.

"I think we are passed that," he laughs before leaning down and kissing you again.

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a/n: part 2? i've never really written parts on tumblr before nor made a masterlist. there's a first for everything i guess. hope y'all liked this!

[tremendouscreationperson]

A little fic based off of this

Whenever I write an X Reader it's usually for chubby!reader but it's actually a plot point in this one

Chubby/bullied!reader x stan

You, Ford, Caryn and Filbrick sat in the front row.

Stan had a big fight tonight, the only reason his father came, and you were nervously tapping your leg. His opponent, Godfrey Davies, was bigger and looked meaner but you knew Stan could potentially pull it off.

The two entered the ring and Stan gave you a cheeky wink before his eyes caught his father. His whole expression changed when he clocked Filbrick.

"He better win." Ford commented.

You knew what Ford was implying. If Stan lost in front of his dad he would be crushed. And Filbrick was the type of man who would leave if he was bored so Stan would also have to put on a good show.

The two touched gloves and the bell rang.

You weren't a huge boxing fan but wouldn't deny the rush a match gave you. The adrenaline of the room coursed through your veins as each punch landed. Godfrey was strong, he had hit Stan's stomach a few times but Stan was quick enough to dodge any major strikes.

Godfrey managed to land a blow against Stan's cheek and your hand grasped Fords.

You glanced at Ford as an excuse to spy on Filbrick but the man gave nothing away. Merely enjoying? the show.

In the split second your eyes were off of Stan, he had managed to gain the upper hand with a series of quick jabs against Godfrey's right side.

"He's hurt him." Ford informed you. "See the twitch."

You followed his fingers, unable to see the twitch, alas you trusted Ford's intelligence. If Ford said Stan hurt him then he hurt him.

The two danced around each other for the remainder of the round, there was a soft tap here and a dodge there but otherwise it was quiet.

The next round was similar. There were the odd moments of carnal violence sprinkled in between their dance but it was the third round that mattered.

As Stan took a sip of water, he turned in your direction, his pale skin beginning to pinken as it swelled up. He gave you all a sloppy smirk and when the bell rang again, there was a new fire in him.

Stan kept low and stayed with defence until Godfrey tired himself out - punching ludicrously hard against Stan's forearm block - and just when Godfrey stopped to pant, Stan whacked him with an uppercut.

Godfrey stumbled backwards, wobbling on his feet. Stan was on him in an instant punching him in the face and forcing the man to the floor.

The ref called it and everyone cheered.

He had won!

This was a big deal.

He could now fight in a higher tier.

This was really good news!

You released Ford from your hug and he ran over to his twin. The boys embraced, clapping each other's backs, grinning from ear to ear.

Caryn was next, she slipped in the hug, squeezing her babies tight. You knew she said a cheesy joke along the lines of 'I didn't need a crystal ball to know you'd win' because the twins rolled their eyes in sync but there was no real malice behind the gesture.

Filbrick finally made his move: a pat on the shoulder. You knew it meant the world to Stan. He deserved it. He really did. He was glorious.

A photographer worked his way into the ring and told the family to smile but Stan stopped the photo.

"Wait, where's Y/N?" His eyes scanned the crowd that had formed, swarming the ring side. He had a lot of groupies, unsurprisingly. People loved a big strong man and it didn't hurt that he looked like that.

They landed on you and you smiled, waving awkwardly as he gestured for you to join them. The room was noisy and people were still cheering, drinks being drunk, music blaring so he didn't hear your reply. You tried to call out again but in the end shook your head, sheepishly.

It was his moment. He needed this. To be in a photo with his family. He could frame it.

Besides, you'd only ruin it.

You weren't exactly pretty.

A fact that everyone had relentlessly told you at school.

The only reason you were still alive was Stan and Ford's friendship, otherwise you'd have had to fight the onslaught of insults alone and you really didn't think you were strong enough for that.

Stan frowned momentarily before forcing a smile for the photo.

~~

"Doll face?" You were sitting in your garden, on the swing your dad had made, reading the Lord of the Rings. Turning your head you found Stan. He was standing next to you, hands in pockets. He had bruises on his cheek and a split lip you hadn't noticed at the time.

"Hi." You smiled up, closing the book. "How'd's it feel to be a winner?"

Stan chuckled, plonking down on the swing next to you. Your dad had to install another when you eventually made friends. "'little sore."

"I bet you don't feel it because your dad was proud of you." You mock punched his arm. "He really was."

Stan swivelled on the swing, the rope twisting together as he spun around.

You suspected he had something to say so kept quiet until he found the words.

Stan let go, spinning until he was back in the correct place.

"You know you're gorgeous right?" The words tumbled out.

They took you aback. You hadn't ever thought those words would come out of his mouth. "Pardon?"

He let out a shaky breath, gazing up at the sky. "You're really pretty. I don't know why Jorgie and her gang tell you otherwise. Like a damn movie star."

Where had this come from? "Wh-"

"The photo." He answered without needing the question. "I wish you were in it."

You didn't know what to say or how to respond. The only thing you could think to do was shyly smile and reach for his hand.

~~

"Filbrick, that's Y/N." You overheard Caryn whisper to her husband. They were in the Kitchen where you were planning on getting a drink. "She comes over all the time."

He huffed.

Did-did he not know who you were?

You were here every other day.

Hell, you once made the man dinner!

Caryn had been sick and the boys were useless so you came around and rustled up some grub for the four of them.

That was insulting.

"The fat one?" He questioned.

Fat?

Were you fat?

You glanced down at yourself, you could see your toes but maybe not as much as you should be able to?

"She's no-well, it doesn't matter. She's good for Stan..and Ford. Keeps them sane."

Caryn thought you were fat too?

You stepped away carefully, avoiding the spots in the wood that creaked, and nestled yourself back into the boys room. Settling next to Stan in his bed as they argued about nothing important.

~~

You'd declined every offer Stan made to go out. You didn't want to look like you were avoiding him but his parents thought you were fat and that had shaken your self image.

You were obviously not thin in the mirror and people at school called you fat and ugly all the time. So much that part of you believed it and part of you brushed it off but to hear it from them... From people you trusted...

You knew you were nothing great to look at. Stan being sweet was just him trying to comfort you, you probably embarrassed them.

In an effort to beautify yourself, your evenings were spent jogging mostly. It was awful and you hated it but you made sure to do it before dinner or you wouldn't eat.

"Oit." A voice called, you spun to see Stan running to catch up.

"Hey."

"What're we doing?" He fell into pace with you.

"Jogging." You offered.

"Har, har." He playfully shoved you. "Why are we jogging? It's the worst."

Your face split into a grin, loving how in sync the two of you were. "It really is! I hate it."

When you both rounded the corner, he repeated himself. "C'mon what are we doing?"

"Trying to lose weight." You answered.

"W-why?" Your reply had caught him completely off guard that he faltered. Stan had to speed up to match your pace again. "You don't need to."

A dark chuckle left you without your consent. "I heard someone talking-"

"Ignore the girls at school." He interrupted.

"It wasn't-" Jogging and talking was hard. "It was someone whose opinion I'd hate to admit I trust. They said it straight."

Stan made a face but didn't argue. He would let you win this round and later convince you to come to the diner and get a thick shake. He knew you weren't fat. Well, maybe you were but not in a bad way! You looked amazing! The meat on your bones was in all the right places. More to love like platonically.

Eventually the two of you came to a stop outside your house.

"I don't think jeans were designed for running." Stan tried to pry the fabric off his thigh.

"I'd never blame you, beautiful." He folded his arms. "Now, who do I have to beat up?"

You giggled. "Don't blame me. I didn't ask you to join me."

"No one." Your eyes rolled automatically.

"Hey, don't do that."

"I'm not doing anyth-"

Stan closed the distance, cupping your cheeks in his palms, forcing eye contact. "Tell me. 'cause you're perfect."

Why had he decided to be all sweet and flirty recently? He did know you were the butt of every joke, right? Like everyone else, he was well aware that boys would ask you out as a prank. Was this one? No, not your Stan.

Well he wasn't your Stan.

"Earth to Y/N." He manipulated your head, swaying it gently side to side.

"Huh?"

"Who called you fat?"

The words seemed to leave your mouth before you had the chance to stop them. Your mind hadn't even registered properly and they were released into the world. "Your parents."

The neutral expression morphed into anger. Stan's brows pulled as his pupils shrunk. A twitch occurred in his jaw. "My dad?"

"Your mom, too." You shrugged. "It's nothing massive, it's actually helpful. Now I know it's true I can-"

"No." He shook his head. "No, it's not. It's mean." Stan placed his forehead against yours and took in a breath. "When I say you are perfect, believe it. Don't change anything. Please, doll."

~~

The new few months played out in the usual fashion. You'd go to school, then theirs, they'd come to yours, the three of you would worry about test results, studying was tricky when the boys were helping - they always got off topic. It didn't take long before all the exams were finished and the school year was coming to a close meaning prom.

You and the twins went together. None of you officially had dates but that didn't matter because it was always you three vs the world.

A triangle was the strongest shape after all.

You arrived at the Pines house on time, barely giving the door a knock before it swung open. Stan was quick to exit and pulled you towards the car.

He didn't look back, settling you into the passenger seat as he rounded the car to the driver's.

"Stan?" You glanced at the front door. "Everything okay?" Caryn had begged you to come in and take photos less than a week ago. Maybe Stan knew you were embarrassed or maybe he was going back on his words... Maybe he was embarrassed of you.

Stan gave you a curt nod, his palms tightening in the steering wheel. You watched the knuckles whiten on his left hand before his right caught your gaze. There was blood on them.

Why was there blood on his knuckles?!

"Where's Ford?"

As if on cue Ford left the house, closing the door behind him and strode towards the car.

He slipped into the backseat and gave you a sheepish smile.

The car journey was blessedly short and weird to say the least.

You distracted yourself with the radio.

At school you took the obligatory "couple" photo. You stood between the boys arm in arm. Even if it was fake, it was the first time Stan smiled tonight.

You were led to the gym - they had dressed it up for a party but it was still just your school gym - and found a spot to stand and people watch.

Ford attempted to make small talk with others but he wasn't hugely successful, coming back each time with an 'aww shucks'. At least he didn't have punch thrown at him. Silver linings and all that, hey?

Stan was still being strange so you let him be. Sometimes he went quiet when he was thinking too hard. You hoped he was able to at least enjoy a bit of the evening.

He had just excused himself to use the toilet when Ford sprinted back to your side. "Finally!"

"What?!"

"He punched dad." Ford whispered.

Huh, it sounded like Ford told you Stan had punched Filbrick but that would be insane. "Care to run that by me again?"

"Dad said something and Stan shouted before he just socked him. It was intense. Dad then shook his hand!"

What?!

"Wait, I don't get it." You frowned. "Your dad's been an asshole for years, what made Stan snap?"

Ford shrugged but you knew he knew. Why wasn't he telling you? "Ask him."

"Oh, yeah, I'll just ask Stan 'why'd you finally decide to whack your dad?' Think about it for more than two seconds!"

Ford's eyes slipped over your shoulder and he nodded minutely. Stan was back in the room.

Your eyes immediately found his knuckles, they weren't bloodied but even from here you could see the slight pink hue. You turned to ask Ford something only to find he had disappeared again.

Stan made his way through the dancefloor and stopped by your side.

After Ford's confession the silence was maddening. You needed to ask why but how do you go about it? How do you just ask him? And his dad shook his hand? Was that a goodbye? Was Stan being kicked out? No, Filbrick wasn't that cruel.

"Fancy a dance?" You offered. Stan looked at you and then the crowd, unease splattered throughout his expression. "We don't have to."

"It is a dance, though." He commented. "Just- there's a lot of people."

"It's okay." You brushed him off. It wasn't a massive deal, you didn't have to dance at a dance.

"There wasn't anyone in the corridor by Mr Tymeh's. Could still hear the music." He didn't outright ask you but you'd been friends long enough to read between the lines.

"Lead the way."

The two of you left the gym and wandered past the toilets to the small 'office' Mr Tymeh ate his lunch and moaned at the less athletic students in.

Stan was right, you could hear the music from here and the corridor was empty.

"Wanna do this then?" He asked, making zero eye contact.

"Stan, we don't have to if yo-" You were unable to finish the sentence because he pulled you close, hands on your waist, and swayed.

Your hands met his shoulders and you let him move the two of you back and forth. The song wasn't meant for slow swaying but this half-dance was really sweet so you weren't going to complain.

"I like your suit." You brushed your fingers along his collar.

"Thanks, got mine and Fords for the price of one." He smirked cockily. "You, uh, you look beautiful as ever. That colour's real pretty."

You didn't give the compliment to get one, hopefully he knew that!! Yet it was sweet hearing the words. Choosing the colour was very hard, you didn't want to look good for everyone else, you wanted to feel good for yourself and when you finally decided what you were wearing you did feel good.

Maybe tonight you'd believe Stan's words.

Believe you were pretty passable.

Your brain was getting too distracting so you softly asked, "what happened to your hand?"

"Some schmuck." He shrugged. "No one important."

You pulled his hand from your hip and frowned at the knuckles. "That's not what Ford said."

Stan groaned. "That fucker."

"Are you alright?"

He looked into your eyes before nodding. "Yeah."

"Gonna tell me about it?" You raised a brow.

"He was just being an asshole." There was more to the story. There had to be. Filbrick had been an asshole for years and Stan hadn't snapped, so why now? Stan saw the confusion in your face and elaborated. "He made comments about you."

Your frown deepened. "You hit your dad for me?" You were not worth that. Why the fuck would he-

"Course I did." Stan paused. "He can say what he wants about me but not you." His eyes flickered to your opening mouth. "It was strange, he patted me on the back and shook my hand after. Proud of me for standing up I guess."

.

.

.

@nyx-universe @aceistheplace86

[marciaillust]

the older i get the more I fall in love with kuroko no basket. I wouldn't say my enjoyment of it comes from the strength of its writing or the depth and pathos the characters bring to the table but it's just so. so. it frog boils you

it starts off by introducing the generation of miracles and its just a buncha kids that are super good. one is turbo fast, one is naturally turbo tall, one can make 3 pointers from far far away. like sure there is a gimmick but its tiny, it's *believable*. these six kids are just that good whatever you watched sports anime, you know how this goes

but all in all the show starts off as. hey. we love basketball. this show is named kuroko's basketball, it is gonna be about what basketball means to its characters', especially kuroko. ok. fine. you have this duo and one is loud and obnoxious and the other one is quiet, they are the opposites but they are like light and shadow, we are gonna root for them as they go on their basketball journey and tell us what basketball means to them. ok

but the shadow guy. he's so much of a nothingburger he disappears on the court so he can make surprise moves. ok. wow. kinda funny. kinda gimmicky, more than being just tall or just fast, but like. its his whole personality anyway. everyone doesnt notice him off the court in real life too. it causes problems for him. its his dominant trait as a person on the whole. gimmicky but in character. out there but lowkey fits the threading of the fabric you're weaving here. that's just our main character and who he is as a person.

and then for the next 100 episodes you're slowly. with every match. getting exposed to new characters. with their little gimmicks. but you've seen anime before, everyone's got their thing. One will be less agile but the brains of the operation. One will be good at observing. One can do really really good fakes. Ok fine. But then. then the plot keeps escalating. the stakes keep going up. we need more characters. new matches. new gimmicks.

One of our characters can see the court really well, he knows whats what immediately in his surroundings. Eagle eye, they call that sense. But then he meets another guy, an opponent, who can see the court EVEN BETTER. He has got the HAWK EYE! the zone (state of intense focus) becomes a mythical land that only select few have the access too. Regular dunks become *METEOR STRIKES*. Slapping a ball away from your opponent becomes a *SPEAR*. Dribbling with 3 fingers becomes an indicator that you're actually on LEVEL 1 of your dribbling skills and it can go up by TWO MORE LEVELS

But throughout all of this you're like. Ok. Ok. Obviously this is basketball. The things we're seeing are merely visual metaphors and allegories for my enjoyment. It's not meant to be taken literally. BUT THEN. EVERYONE REACTS TO EVERYTHING. DIAGETICALLY. ITS WATSONIAN ALL THE WAY DOWN? EVERYONE is aware of the eagle eye and the hawk eye and the technical differences between them. Noone has done a meteor strike before! That's only theoretical! THE ZONE? its a door. Its like the door from fma. you can get cast out, the door can close on you. AND It guarded by someone! WHO IS STOPPING YOU FROM CROSSING THE THRESHOLD? Search. Find out. Withstand the storm. Open the door!! The dollar store yaoibait becomes all but text. The bonds between characters get elevated to biblical proportions. The main charas are light and shadow. But that shadow already had his light in the past. But they had a breakup. Now its like being in a new relesh looking to prove your ex boyfriend that he was wrong to dump you. And the new light is gonna stand up for his man, he's not gonna take the disrespect laying down. And the pot keeps boiling until the final bad guy of the whole tournament, the defending champion, is this redheaded twink with heterochromia in his eyes and hes GOT THE EYES OF AN EMPOROR! AND PEOPLE FALL TO THEIR KNEES FROM MERELY LOOKING INTO HIS EYES ON THE COURT! HE SAYS BOW BEFORE ME AS HE DRIBBLES PAST THEM AND THEY FALL!!! AND HE TALKS TO EVERYONE LIKE HE'S A DIVINELY PROTECTED TSAR OF REALITY! AND EVERYONE TAKES HIM SERIOUSLY!!!

BUT THEN YOU LEARN THAT ACTUALLY HE'S GOT A SPLIT PERSONALITY THING GOING ON AND HIS REAL SELF IS BEING HELD HOSTAGE BY HIS EVIL AND MEAN BASKETBALL SELF AND THAT TO DEFEAT THE GAY LOVE THAT OPPOSES HIM (the main characters) HE MUST SUICIDE HALF OF HIS PERSONALITY TO FREE HIMSELF TO REACH THE BASKETBALL HEAVEN AND HE DOES THIS VIA A CONVERSATION IN HIS HEAD DURING MATCH AND I CANT STRESS, A "PERSON" DIES, AND HE LOSES THE HETEROCHROMIA AND ITS LIKE. ITS TEXT I GUESS HE WAS POSSESSED

AND ALSO EVERYONE IS COLOUR CODED AND LIKE 17 AND ALSO THE 3 WOMEN IN THIS SHOW HAVE AT LEAST 5 SCENES DEDICATED TO SIZE OF THEIR BOOBS BECAUSE IT WAS 2012 AND THAT'S WHAT WOMEN FIGHT OVER IN PRIVATE AND THE LIGHT AND THE SHADOW WANT TO PLAY TOGETHER FOREVER AND THEY WANT TO GET BASKETBALL MARRIED AND THEY LITERALLY HAVE AN AIRPORT SCENE IN THE FINAL EP IS ANYONE ELSE SEEING THIS HELLO? TAPS MIC HELLO???

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Me: don't make Charlie's habit of twirling / spinning Vaggie into a THiNG it can just be CUTE with no other headcanons behind it-

also me: what if Vaggie always loved dancing but took being an exorcist very seriously bc of the whole "learned to trust people on the battlefield" thing so the only time she felt she had an excuse for dancing with a partner was when she called it "training" or "unarmed sparing" and goaded Lute into doing it with her (Lute being Adam's second and Vaggie one of his best girls) (what, is Lute scared of not being able to keep up with her-?)

Lute: "This, is stupid."

Vaggie: "It's just like sparring."

Lute: "Then why can't I use a sword."

Vaggie: "The point is learning to read your opponent's body and move with it. A weapon only gets in the way."

Lute: "Or maybe you know which on of us would win in a real fight."

Vaggie: "OR maybe it's nice to practice WITHOUT someone losing feathers over it."

Lute: "Only losers lose feathers. If they don't like it they should start WINNING."

Vaggie: "Just put your fucking hand on my waist and do a box step."

Lute: "A what? Put my hand- where!?"

Vaggie: "Forget it. We'll dance like we're in a damn period piece ballroom scene. You can at least survive spinning me, right?"

Lute: "SPIN you?"

Vaggie: "Just hold up your hand and-"

Lute: "We look dumb enough as is! I'm not making myself look SILLY just so you can do a stupid spin."

Vaggie: "Fine."

Lute: "You need to watch yourself. Exorcist are heaven's first line of defense- we are the divine blades guarding the pearly gates. We need to keep ourselves sharp, focused- If you slip even once-"

Vaggie: "I said fine! I get it! Alright? God let's just, let's just get this over with..."

And then she's in hell, a year or so after Lute grabbed her wrist and pulled her eye-first onto a sword instead of a dance,

and it turns out the princess of hell is an eager and willing dancer, even if she's maybe not the most graceful or easy to follow- but it's the kind of challenge Vaggie loves-

(and not the only thing Vaggie loves)

-especially when Charlie's the one who cleared out a space, put on a playlist, and waved her into the middle of the room so they could laugh and bow / curtsy before making tracks across the carpet-

all of this, even though Charlie's still rusty at dancing, never was into it other much other than as another way to flail around to a beat, and here she is now, seriously trying to remember or learn all the different steps Vaggie shows her

this time it's a waltz

Vaggie's been avoiding waltzes. And sure enough she finds herself spacing out in the middle of it, coming back to the excited sound of Charlie's voice

Charlie: "I think we're doing it!"

Vaggie: "...hm?"

Charlie: "The waltz! It's been ages but, this is about right, right?"

Vaggie: "Oh uh, yeah. You've got it. Told you you would."

Charlie: (laughing) "And I told YOU if we made it through this it'd be because you're so good at making ME look like a good dancer! Even when my hooves keep snagging on the carpet... Even when you're a million miles away."

Vaggie: "Shit. Sorry."

Charlie: "No it's fine! Good practice for me leading!" (leading them onto a new patch of floor) "So! A lot on your mind?"

Vaggie: "Just remembered something, is all."

Charlie: "Waltz related?"

Vaggie: "I wouldn't compare this with that."

Charlie: "Aww, shoot." (pouts) "Well give me a few months and I'll get there."

Vaggie: (chuckling) "Charlie, you're already WAY past the last dance partner I had."

Charlie: "Wow. That bad huh?"

Vaggie: "What'd I just say about you and dancing?"

Charlie: "That at least I'm not totally the absolute worst ever?"

Vaggie: "Yeah no. Try again."

Charlie: (grinning) "I'm better than they were."

Vaggie: "You sure are. Actually trying counts for a lot, honestly."

Charlie: "You make trying things a lot easier." (hoof catches) (stumbles) (vaggie steadies her) "Case in point!"

Vaggie: "We really gotta remember to roll up the carpet next time."

Charlie: "Orrrr you'll just have to go on catching me!"

Vaggie: "I'll do that with or without the carpet."

Charlie: "Right!" (face hot) "Er so, were they clumsy too? Lacking in the whole smooth moves department?" (blushes MORE)

Vaggie: "The moves were fine, the ego got in the way a bit."

Charlie: "Ego?"

Vaggie: (sighs) (rolls eye) "Apparently twirling me would've looked too silly."

Charlie: "Wh- Twirling you?"

Vaggie: "Spinning. Whatever. They cared about that a lot and- I know I know- it's a dumb thing to still be hung up on."

Charlie: "Well I'd be honored to look silly with you!"

Vaggie: (laughing) "Okay?"

Charlie: "Can I spin you?"

Vaggie: "You really don't have to."

Charlie: "So we can do it on three? One. Two-"

Vaggie: "Really it's- watch out, table at 3 O'clock-"

Charlie: "-Wheeeeee~!"

Vaggie: "WHOA- that-" (breathless) "Now THAT was a spin."

Charlie: "Eheheh. Whoops?"

Vaggie: "Oh no, no whoopsing your way out of this one, I'm gonna need to inflict some payback spinning of my own." (grins)

Charlie: "Uh I'm kinda tall for-"

Vaggie: "You ever been lifted?"

Charlie: "I mean when I was a kid sure, but I'm like a foot taller than-"

Vaggie: "On three. One."

Charlie: "-Vaggie you come up to maybe my shoulder-"

Vaggie: "Two."

Charlie: "-not that you can't do anything you set your mind to, obviously! I'm just not sure how-"

Vaggie: "Three."

Charlie: "Hwha- OH!" (gleeful) (laughing) "Ohhh my gosh-!"

Vaggie: (smug) "There's more than one way to twirl a girl across the floor."

Charlie: "Spinning WHILE lifting!?"

Vaggie: "Fun right?"

Charlie: "SO MUCH FUN! Can we do it again!?"

Vaggie: "Sure-"

Charlie: "Ooh ohh can I do it to you too? Can we take turns??"

Vaggie: "Not worried about looking silly, huh?"

Charlie: "No! Why would-" (stops)

Charlie: (stops their dance)

Charlie: "Vaggie, I.... I really don't know why anyone wouldn't want to be silly with you. Or how it could ever be more important than seeing you happy like this."

Vaggie: "...Not everyone's like you, sweetie."

Charlie: "Or maybe everyone just needs to actually see you for once."

Vaggie: "I'd rather just stick to you for now. If, that's okay?"

Charlie: "Always."

(dance resumes, much slower, much closer)

Charlie: "It's, it's okay to miss people too, you know. I know, I mean. How much that sucks. If you, want to talk about...?"

Vaggie: "No. Thanks."

Charlie: "You're missing them though, huh?"

Vaggie: "It's not that. It's just, weird how much things change."

Charlie: "Like dance partners."

Vaggie: "Like your reasons for dancing with them."

Charlie: "....Oh."

(do they kiss???) (i have no idea) (maybe Vaggie just relaxes and rests her head over Charlie's heart) (maybe Charlie tries her best not to think about how hard it's beating)

(maybe somewhere up in heaven, an exorcist with a sword does a box step while training, slips, and slices her target in half in fury when she realizes it)

maybe Vaggie always loved dancing but had to end up in hell before finally getting to dance the way she always wanted to

or maybe

it feels like Vaggie never danced at all, until she had Charlie to share it with

[atarathegreat]

Hello! May request a Draken sibling!Reader x Mikey. Any scenario and/or headcanons will do! Thx♡

No one knew what the hell was wrong with the commander. For weeks on end Mikey had been acting weird, not acting as childish or as ruthless. Even in fights, he was more inclined to let people at least have the ability to walk away, which was a little concerning to Draken. All the founders and captains were used to Mikey absolutely destroying his opponent, and he just suddenly...stopped.

Draken leaned back on his bed, watching his friend. "The hell is up with you recently, man?" Kenny couldn't take it. Especially when Mikey was over to hang out, he wasn't acting like himself. "What do you mean, Ken-chin?" Mikey looked up from the comic book in his hand. "Dude, you've been acting strange as hell." Draken threw a pillow at him. Mikey was the only one who hadn't noticed this change. He thought he was the same as always.

"Kenny!" Mikey straightened up at the cute voice, "I brought you and Mikey some drinks." Draken's little sister came in and set down a couple of drinks. She was only a few months older than Emma, and Mikey figured that if Kenny had a crush on Emma, then he could have a crush on Y/n. Dark eyes watched as she plopped down next to her brother, "And the ladies said that, when you have time, they need help moving a couple boxes."

"I'll get to it when I get to it. Damn." Draken rolled his eyes, "Don't they know I'm busy?"

Y/n giggled, and Mikey felt like his heart was going to implode. She was adorable. Unlike Emma, she had no desire to grow up fast, be more mature, or even dress like she had something to show. Mikey loved his sister, of course, but this girl... she was everything he wanted, and he couldn't help but compare and contrast the two the same way he did to himself and Kenny. Draken was mature and careful where Mikey was childish and impulsive. Was Y/n the same as him? He really hoped so.

"What about you, Mikey? Can you help?" Y/n turned to the shorter blonde.

Draken tugged on her ponytail, "Hey, don't start asking my friends to do your chores!"

"I'm asking for help, you overgrown lima bean!"

"Watch your mouth, you underdeveloped mouse!"

It was always weird when the two argued, hurling meaningless insults at each other that Draken would apologize for later.

For a second, Mikey wondered if she'd even be into a short guy. He was just around below average, but she grew up staring at the ceiling to talk to her brother. What if she couldn't stand looking eye level at him? Or what if she wanted someone with a deeper voice? Mikey wasn't exactly...gruff.

"Stop being a brat!" Y/n was pinning Draken down and jerking on his shirt, "I'm only asking for help, not for him to do everything for me!" Kenny could've easily thrown her off, but she was his baby sister. So, he yelled to Mikey for help. "Mikey, grab this deranged dust bunny!"

Mikey was careful to grab around her waist, no higher and no lower, to pull her away from her brother. He liked carrying Y/n, but he didn't want to hold on for too long and risk Draken seeing that he had a crush. "We should bring her along to our next fight and set her loose on the guys!" Mikey laughed, though he wouldn't actually let her anywhere near a fight. "I'll help you with whatever it is." Mikey smiled, ignoring the way Draken groaned and told him not to bother.

Despite her brothers' warnings to not help, Mikey followed her through the brothel and to her own little room. "I just need help moving these boxes to the room across from Kenny's." She crouched down and picked up a box, a box that Mikey quickly grabbed from her. "Alright." He grabbed another box underneath it, "Lead the way."

Maybe he would just confess to Y/n when Kenny confessed to Emma...

yes, the parallel is on purpose :)

Part 2

[lesbianpepsi]

tainted eyes

pairing: the core four x fem!reader (platonic)

summary: you decide to hop on the latest trend going around

link to request

words: 804

warnings: swearing, mentions of the ghostface incident, my writing

authors note: i think this can be classified as my first crack fic, to the anon who requested this, i love your mind

Being a bored human with an unhealthy tiktok obsession you were pretty quick to learn any new trend that was suffering the internet.

That's why when you found the latest trend going around you didn't know whether to laugh or be petrified, probably a bit of both.

But one thing you did know about the trend is that you were a thousand percent going to do it to your friends.

It didn't take long for your plan to set into action.

—————

It was a surprisingly cold Friday night in the Carpenter apartment; a cool chill in the air that wasn't supposed to be around since it was summer.

Ever since you became friends with the Carpenter sisters and the Meeks twins you were invited to their annual weekly movie night, always hosted on Fridays.

On this particular evening Chad was the one who was given the choice of what movie you all would be watching. Something Mindy did not like because of how stupidly long it would take Chad to choose one.

"Chad, get off youtube and choose a fucking movie." Mindy demanded as she mindlessly threw a piece of popcorn into her mouth.

Chad rolled his eyes at his twin, his eyes still glued to the sports game playing on the TV. "There's five minutes left, Minds, the second it's over I'll put on the movie." He replied as he leaned forward, his forearms on his knees as he concentrated on the game.

Tara was sitting next to you with her knees up to her chest, scrolling on her phone with a bored look on her face. Her older sister, Sam, was sitting in her lonesome chair as she was man spreading , a bored look on her face as she watched the game.

"C'mon you glorious bastard!" Chad encouraged as the commentators of the game were getting louder. You looked at the screen to see a player sprinting across the field as the opponent tried to chase after him.

"Fucking move!" Chad yelled louder, his body becoming tense as a look of concentration on his face.

At the yelling from Chad the smaller girl next to you looked up at the screen, her attention shifting as she shut her phone off.

You glanced around the room to see everyone's attention was on the game playing on the screen.

It was time.

Sneakily, you pulled out your phone as you lowered the brightness to make sure Tara wouldn't look over. Once unlocked you quickly opened YouTube as you searched for the specific video you were looking for, a sick and twisted grin on your face.

The video had a whopping 34 million views, a large amount for a video less than three minutes in length.

You clicked on the video and as quickly as you could paused it before a noise was heard. Glancing around the room you made sure everyone's attention was still on the game; it was.

With a cruel smile you connected your phone to the TV, the video loading.

"The game!" Chad whined as he glared at you momentarily before he looked back at the screen. He tilted his head like a confused puppy as the title of the video showed on the screen.

"What the hell is-"

Before Chad could even finish his sentence the video began playing. It didn't take five seconds before all hell broke loose.

"Why the fuck is there an asshole on the screen?!" Tara yelled, mortified as she quickly looked away from the screen, looking at you absolutely revolted.

"My eyes, my sweet innocent gay eyes! What is wrong with you, Y/n!" Mindy screeched as she turned to look away from the screen, closing her eyes as she shook her head.

Chad was speechless as he stared at the screen confused and concerned.

"Y/n turn the shit off!" Tara yelled as she tried to grab your phone, you couldn't stop laughing as you hid your phone.

"My eyes." Mindy kept repeating as she hid her face away from the TV screen. "My gay eyes didn't deserve that."

You kept laughing as you tried to fight off Tara who was trying to climb over you to get to your phone.

Your eyes flickered over to Sam to see her looking down at her lap with an utterly disgusted look on her face.

Tears swelled in your eyes as your stomach began hurting from how much you were laughing.

Tara eventually managed to get a hold on your phone and stop the video, but it was too late, the damage was already done.

"What even was that?" Chad asked bewildered as he turned to look at you, the look of joy and innocence in his eyes completely void of it.

You still couldn't help but laugh as you answered the traumatised boy.

"Hair Nair."

[k-nayee]

CHAPTER 2. THE FOX AND THE FLAME

❝Even among the unpolished stones, a rare gem can shine brightest.❞

Warrior M.List | Act One

Previous | Next

˚＊˚✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ・・✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ⚔️・⚔️・⚔️・⚔️・✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ・・✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ˚＊˚

Countdown: 16 years remaining

The courtyard bustled with life in the golden warmth of mid-morning.

Metallic clinks of swords meeting shields was accompanied by the rhythmic crunch of boots against the dry earth.

Soldiers—some seasoned and hardened, others still fresh-faced and eager—were sparring in pairs; each clash a testament to their discipline.

It was a place alive with energy—where strength and skill were on full display.

You stood at the edge of it all with a jug of water balanced carefully in your hands. Beads of sweat glistened on your brow, though not from exertion.

The summer heat was oppressive and unrelenting; tempered only by the occasional breeze that stirred the scents of sweat, leather, and oiled metal.

A playful grin spread across your lips as you approached the soldiers, your steps light and purposeful.

The worn hem of your chiton swished around your legs, the sun catching the vibrant undertones of your skin, drawing more than a few lingering glances.

"Thirsty boys?" you called while tilting the jug invitingly.

Heads turned. First one soldier, then another, until a dozen pairs of eyes were fixed on you.

Some even paused mid-swing in sparring to glance your way, their expressions ranged from amused to openly appreciative.

"You know we are," teased a soldier named Lycomedes; a man in his late twenties with a crooked smile that revealed a missing tooth. "But don't think we don't know your game. You bring the water and we teach you tricks, eh?"

You giggled, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you handed him a cup. "You wound me Lycomedes. Can't I simply care for our brave protectors without an ulterior motive?"

A wiry soldier named Andron laughed as he wiped sweat from his brow, his fingers brushing yours when reaching for a cup.

"Careful lads. She's got the eyes of a fox and the tongue of a bard. Flatter her too much and she'll have ya doing her chores while she steals your heart!"

"Steal your hearts?" you repeated, feigning offense as you tipped the jug to fill the cup. "I'd never dream of such a thing. Now chores on the other hand..."

The soldiers laughed, the sound mingling with the clang of practice swords. 

"You're trouble that's what you are," Lycomedes said with a widening grin. "But we wouldn't have it any other way."

You simply grin in response, moving through the group, pouring water as you felt a familiar warmth settle over you.

These men—so fierce on the battlefield—softened in your presence; their gruff exteriors melting away under the weight of your charm.

 "Hey Orion," you sweetly call out one of the newer recruits' name, your lashes fluttering coyly. "You mind showing me that move again? You know, the one where you disarmed Theras yesterday."

The young boy flushed under your gaze but quickly put up a front of confidence. "You mean this?" In a flash, his hand darted out, catching the hilt of his practice sword.

With a swift flick of his wrist he mimed a move that sent his imaginary opponent's weapon flying.

You clapped your hands, eyes wide with mock admiration. "So fast! You'll have to show me step by step. How else am I to defend myself against ruffians?"

"Ruffians? You're more likely to charm them into surrender." Orion teased with a smirk.

The banter continued light and teasing as you continue to pass out water and absorb every tidbit of advice they offered.

Each time they demonstrated a move you mimicked it, sometimes with surprising accuracy, sometimes drawing laughter with your exaggerated failures.

It was in these moments that you thrived—a delicate dance of innocence and cunning, endearing yourself to the grizzled warriors who couldn't resist your infectious spirit.

As you spun around to refill another cup, the sound of soft footfalls on stone drew your attention to the walkway above the courtyard.

Penelope.

The sun caught the intricate embroidery of her lilac gown as she walked ahead with her head held high; a vision of serene authority.

Her long dark hair framed her face with strays of elegant braids decorated throughout.

She carried herself like a Queen in waiting—untouchable, unshakable.

Beside her, Iphthime was the picture of youthful exuberance. She gestured animatedly as she spoke, her voice carrying faintly on the breeze.

She too was radiant; the quintessential Spartan beauty with features soft and delicate.

You couldn't help but marvel at the contrast between the sisters.

Penelope, ever composed, seemed like a marble statue come to life while Iphthime was fire that drew others to her warmth.

"Little fox!" Andron barked, jolting you back to the present.

"She's distracted by loftier sights," Lycomedes teased, following your gaze to the walkway. "Can't say I blame her."

You grinned unashamed. "Lady Penelope moves like she's stepping through the stars. How could anyone look away?"

Before he could reply further, Andron tapped your shoulder. "Come on! Show me what you've learned. Let's see if Lycomedes has been teaching you anything useful or if you're just collecting compliments."

A wooden practice sword was tossed your way. Eager to prove yourself, you stepped forward and caught it.

It was heavier than you expected, the weight causing you to stumble slightly as you squared your shoulders.

A few nearby soldiers formed a loose circle, their laughter and cheers encouraging you as you mimicked the stances they demonstrated.

And even though your form was far from perfect the soldiers still clapped and cheered as you managed a somewhat decent swing.

"Not bad for someone your size," Andron teased, ruffling your hair.

"Give me a year," you retorted puffing out your chest. "I'll be better than all of you."

For a moment you forgot the weight of the world beyond the courtyard.

Here—surrounded by the clang of steel and the warmth of camaraderie—you felt almost invincible.

Above, Penelope lingered at the edge of the walkway, her sharp eyes observing the scene below. Iphthime had moved ahead, but Penelope stayed.

Her expression unreadable. Was she annoyed by your antics? Amused? It was impossible to tell.

You caught her gaze and offered a quick playful salute with your sword.

For a moment her face remained impassive. Then, just barely, the corner of her mouth twitched in what might have been the ghost of a smile.

You turn back as other soldiers took turns showing you techniques.

Some were practical—basic footwork and defensive maneuvers—while others were purely for show, meant to impress and amuse.

*･:*:★☽✧⚔️✧☾★:*:･*

The air was different at night.

It is when the heat of the day gave way to the cool caress of the evening breeze. When the moon hung high, casting silver light across the cobblestone and grass.

In a hidden clearing just outside the palace walls, you and Penelope stood face-to-face, wooden practice swords gripped tightly in your hands.

"So," Penelope began, a smirk tugging at her lips, "what did you learn today?"

You grinned, twirling your practice sword with exaggerated flair. "Something new," you replied. "Let's see if it works on you."

Her smirk widened. "Confidence suits you. But don't forget, I've beaten you every time."

"There's a first time for everything," you shot back, lunging forward.

The clash of wood against wood echoed through the clearing as she parried your strike, her movements quick and precise.

It went on like this for what felt like hours—quips and counters, blades clashing in a rhythm that neither of you wanted to break.

"Again," Penelope said firmly, her chest rising and falling with exertion.

Stray strands of her dark hair stuck to her forehead, loosened from the braid that hung down her back.

You smile sharpened as you raise your sword. "Are you sure? I wouldn't want to bruise your pride any more than I already have tonight."

"Don't flatter yourself," she shot back, adjusting her stance. "I'm still ahead by six wins this week."

"Only because you cheat," you teased, sidestepping her feint as her blade sliced through the air just shy of your shoulder.

"I do not cheat!" she snapped, eyes narrowing.

"You distract me with all your noblewoman grace," you said, parrying her next swing. "It's unfair. How's a humble servant like me supposed to concentrate?"

"Maybe try focusing instead of running your mouth!" she countered, driving forward with a quick jab that caught you off guard.

The tip of her wooden blade hit your side, eliciting a grunt as you staggered back. Penelope grinned triumphantly but her moment of victory was short-lived.

"Nice one," you said, shifting your stance and lunging forward with speed that surprised even you.

Your blade tapped her shoulder, and she stumbled slightly, her grin fading into a scowl.

Recovering swiftly, Penelope lunges, her strikes swift and precise. You barely dodged, twisting your body to avoid the sharp edge of her practice sword.

"That move again?" you taunt as you step back just out of her reach. "You've done it three times already tonight. Maybe I haven't done as good of a job on reciting the soldiers' lessons."

Her laugh was soft but carried an edge. "Very funny."

She surged forward again. Each swing forced you to retreat, your feet scuffing against the cool stone.

You parried as best you could, gritting your teeth as the force of her blows reverberated through your arms.

"Not bad," Penelope admitted, her eyes gleaming in the torchlight. "But you're leaving your left side wide open."

You grinned, taking advantage of her momentary distraction. With a quick pivot you ducked under her guard and swept her legs out from under her.

She hit the ground with a startled gasp, her sword skittering away.

Standing over her with your practice sword pointed at her chest, you couldn't resist a triumphant smirk. "Wide open you say?"

Penelope's glare melted into a begrudging smile. "Beginner's luck," she muttered, accepting your hand as you helped her to her feet.

You both stood there drenched in sweat, your chests heaving as you stood apart panting and grinning, the tension of the match giving way to camaraderie.

"That's a draw," Penelope said reluctantly, falling to the ground with a huff.

"A draw?" you echoed, feigning shock as you toss sword aside and collapsed onto the cool grass beside her. "That's practically a win for me. You never let me get this close."

"Don't let it go to your head," she replied, sitting beside you and wiping her brow with the edge of her tunic. "You're only improving because I'm an excellent spar partner."

You laughed, leaning back on your hands as you looked up at the stars. The silence between you was comfortable, the kind born of shared struggle and trust.

After a moment of silence, Penelope suddenly pulls a small leather-bound book from her satchel. "Here. This just arrived in the library. Thought you'd want first dibs."

Your eyes lit up as you snatched it from her hands and run your fingers over the embossed cover. "A treatise on naval strategy?" you breathed, flipping through the pages. "Penelope you spoil me." 

"Hardly," Penelope replied as she lean back on her hands. "You're the only one who reads half these things anyway."

Ever since that fateful night on the balcony, your lives had followed this unspoken rhythm.

By day, Penelope is the perfect noblewoman—poised, graceful, and dutiful. She endures Icarus's wrath without complaint, bearing the weight of the family's expectations as a good daughter should.

At night, however, everything changes.

The confines of nobility fall away; replaced by the freedom of sparring, learning, and growing.

Penelope would bring books and scrolls from the library, teaching you to read and write in stolen moments.

And in return you share what you've learned from the soldiers—new techniques, strategies, and stories of battles long past.

With only the Moon and Stars as witness, the two of you practiced. Every parry, every strike, every strategic maneuver was tested and refined in your moonlit sessions.

Over time Penelope's strikes had grown sharper, her movements more deliberate. Her body—once slender and delicate, now bore the lean muscles of a warrior.

You, on the other hand, had discovered a deep love for the art of strategy.

The battles you read about became puzzles to solve, the lessons from the soldiers a foundation for crafting your own mock skirmishes.

You'd recreate famous conflicts for you and Penelope to fight through, testing each other's minds as well as your bodies.

Your efforts did not go unnoticed.

"Mind if I join you?" A deep voice calls out from the shadows, startling you and Penelope from your nightly lessons.

You both break away and stand next to each other with hardened faces. Though it was hard to see, you could make out a tall form wearing a baggy cloak.

"Who are you?" Penelope demanded, her sword raised defensively. "Show yourself."

The deep voice chuckled. "No need for such hostility." Stepping into the light, it was revealed to be an old man with a rugged face and eyes that gleamed like molten gold.

"I am simply a mere traveler," he said, his voice deep and wispy. "A mere traveler who couldn't help but notice such dedication."

"Leave," you said sharply, stepping in front of Penelope as he takes another step. "This isn't your concern."

The man chuckled once again, his gaze flicking between the two of you. "Fiery and bold. I like that." He looked to Penelope. "Would you care to indulge me in a match?"

Penelope hesitates, glancing at you before ultimately nodding. "If you think you can keep up," she said boldly despite the wariness in her eyes.

Knowing her say is final, you simply take a step back, hands gripped on your sword and eyes lingering on the man in case of sudden movements.

A gleeful smile decorated his wrinkled face as he yanks off his cloak to reveal a sword of his own attached to his hip.

"Ready when you are~" the old man teases. He grabs the sword and gives it a couple of experimental swings as he moves into a relaxed stance.

The sparring match that followed was brutal.

Penelope met his challenge head-on, her sword flashing in the pale moonlight as she lunged, parried, and struck.

But the old man was on a level neither of you could have anticipated.

His strikes came with blinding speed, movements so fluid they seemed almost supernatural.

Within moments Penelope was on the defensive, her breath coming in sharp bursts as she fought to keep up.

Every time her blade met his and the force of the impact rattled through her arms she held firm.

And even when the old man's strikes sent her sprawling, her body hitting the dirt with a sickening thud, she picked herself up without hesitation.

Her determination blazed like a fire, the spark in her eyes refusing to be extinguished.

"You've got spirit," the man remarked mid-swing, his voice even and composed despite their fierce exchange.

Penelope gritted her teeth, blocking another attack. "You'll need more than that to break me."

You stood at the edge as you watched. It took everything in you not to intervene. Your fists clenched as instincts screamed at you to protect her, but you knew better.

Penelope wouldn't forgive you for stepping in.

Minutes bled into what felt like hours, the sounds of their clashing swords echoing in the stillness of the night.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the old man laughed—a deep, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Enough," he said, stepping back and letting his sword fall to. His tone was laced with approval, his sharp eyes fixed on Penelope as she staggered to her feet. "You've proven yourself."

Before either of you could react it happened.

With a flash of golden light, the old man's began to shift. His weathered figure melted away; instead replaced by a towering man draped in bronze and crimson.

His armor gleamed with an otherworldly glow, the intricate carvings on his breastplate depicting battles long forgotten.

A crimson cape billowed behind him heavy and regal as if carried by an invisible wind. In his hand he held a spear, its golden tip gleaming as if forged from the stars themselves.

His helmet was a masterpiece—sharp edges and a darkened visor that made the faint molten color of his eyes glow even more.

Every inch of him exuded power, violence, and an indomitable presence that seemed to fill the courtyard.

You felt your breath hitch as you took in the sight of the God standing before you.

"Ares," you whispered, the name slipping from your lips like a prayer.

The God's fiery gaze flicked to you, and for a moment the weight of his attention was almost unbearable.

But then he smiled—a sharp wolfish grin that sent a thrill of both fear and exhilaration through you.

"You've caught my attention, Penelope," he said, his voice a deep rumbling growl. "You fight with the heart of a warrior—a flame that refuses to be extinguished, no matter how the odds are stacked against you. I see potential in you girl. The kind of potential that could carve legends."

Penelope straightened, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten as she met his gaze.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, and though her chest still heaved from exertion, her expression was resolute.

"You've impressed me," Ares continued. "And that is no small feat."

His voice softened slightly, though it lost none of its authority. "From this night on, you are my student. I will make you into the warrior you were born to be. Your fire will burn brighter under my guidance."

Penelope's lips parted in shock, but before she could respond, Ares turned his gaze to you.

"And you," his eyes narrow slightly. "You have not gone unnoticed either."

You froze, your mind racing as he continued.

"Your strategies, your cunning...you see battle not as a brute's game—but as a puzzle to be solved. And yet you are no stranger to the fight itself. That kind of balance, that kind of brilliance, is rare."

His gaze flickered with something unreadable—pride perhaps, or frustration. "But I cannot claim you. Someone else has their eyes on you already."

Confusion decorated your face. "Who?"

As if in answer, a faint rustling came from the trees bordering the wall.

You turned your head just in time to see a massive owl perched on a high branch, its feathers a soft mix of whites and browns.

Its golden eyes glowed faintly in the moonlight, locking onto you with an eerie intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

The owl tilted its head, watching you in complete silence, its presence both unsettling and oddly comforting.

"That," Ares voice pull your attention back to him, "is your answer." He let out a low, almost amused chuckle. "Athena does not let her favorites go unnoticed."

The owl flapped its wings once before vanishing into the darkness, leaving you staring after it.

"But the choice is yours," Ares continued. "Athena may favor intellect and cunning, but war is not fought with the mind alone. If you ever wish to know what it truly means to harness power, to embrace your spirit as a warrior...you will come to me."

His gaze shifted back to Penelope, the fire in his eyes burning brighter.

"For now I have my student," he declared, his voice ringing with finality. "I look forward to seeing what you are capable of Penelope of Sparta, Daughter of Icarius."

With a sharp slam of his spear against the ground, his form shimmered once more and disappeared, leaving the clearing in silence.

Penelope let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, her legs nearly giving out as she sank onto the ground.

You could only stand there still staring at the spot where Ares had vanished.

The words he had spoken, the promise of guidance, and the unspoken challenge from Athena all swirled together in your thoughts.

"Well," Penelope said finally, her voice shaky but filled with a faint trace of humor, "I guess that means we both have some decisions to make."

You managed a weak smile, your gaze flicking once more to the treetops where the owl had been.

The Gods were watching....

And the path ahead was growing more complicated with every step.

[flowerandblood]

Fair Game (2/2)

[modern! • Aemond x short!female • volleyball players]

[warnings: sex content, angst, smut, domination]

[description: Anon Request: She wants to join the college team and compete, but she's too short. She gets a chance from the coach. In the men's team, there is a player who has always attracted her attention. But is he the person she thought he was?]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

This is part two of story: Fair Play

______

Prior to their first set training she was completely terrified. She regretted agreeing to his proposal, afraid that he would only laugh at her and humiliate her. She decided to give him one chance.

They exchanged numbers to arrange when they would meet and when he could rent a gym for them. One day he wrote her a laconic message saying that they would meet next Friday at 7 pm. She had no classes then, so she agreed.

The changing rooms were open when she arrived. She changed in the women's locker room and went out to the sports hall, looking around. She saw that the light was on. Aemond, also disguised, was tying the net on the poles. He looked at her indifferently.

"Oh. So you're not a coward." He said sarcastically and she frowned. She took one of the balls from the big basket, bouncing it on the floor as she walked over to him.

"Don't annoy me." She grunted at him, throwing the ball into his shoulder. He was just tying the last knot, he had no way to protect himself from the impact. He looked at her, frustrated.

"So you're not only a princess, but also a spoiled brat." He fired without thinking, his gaze sharp and unpleasant. She laughed at his words, shaking her head in disbelief, feeling like she wanted to leave.

“I have to balance your rudeness and insolence somehow.” She said loudly, starting to shake her arms, moving on to warm up.

She decided she wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction and would finish the fucking training even if she had to cry all night in humiliation afterwards.

He pursed his lips at her words, but said nothing. After a quick warm-up both of them settled on both sides of the net, practicing serves and strokes. Finally, already slightly sweaty and out of breath, Aemond walked over to the net, staring at her with his hands on his hips.

"Can we start?" He asked impatiently. She nodded for him to come over to her side. He walked under the fence, looking at her expectantly. She sighed, taking the ball, turning it over in her hands.

"I watched you serve. You put a lot of force into it, but it makes you afraid of missing the field. You play it safer, by hitting closer to the center. It make it easier to take the ball. You have to be more precise, throw the player over the line of the pitch so that he can't reach it. I'll show you." She told him, gesturing him to go back to the other side.

He raised an eyebrow, obviously reading the challenge. He walked unhurriedly to the other end of the net and positioned himself to receive the ball. She moved to the back line, tossed the ball up, bounced, and hit it flat so that it barely flew over the net, hitting low and diagonal on the touchline, giving him no chance of receiving it.

"Fuck!" He cursed under his breath, surprised. He looked at her, and in his eye she saw a note of appreciation that flattered her ego pleasantly.

She motioned for him to try to repeat what she was doing. He hit more diagonally, but either his ball hit the net or went out of bounds. She could see that he was already losing his temper and looking away, enraged.

"Don't put so much force into it. Focus on accuracy and repetitive movement. You men always want to hit like you're going to kill your opponent with that ball." She said, shaking her head, breathing fast, strands of her hair stuck to her wet face.

He only grunted at her words and his next hits were better. He was hitting where he was supposed to more often, and she was having more and more trouble with receiving his ball. She nodded, getting up from her knees, wiping her forehead.

"All right. It's over for today. I have an exam tomorrow." He said, wiping his face with a towel that he placed on one of the benches by the audience. She blinked at him in disbelief.

"You promised me you'd show me how to block." She said feeling her heart pounding like crazy.

A cold shiver ran down her spine at the thought that he had deceived and used her, had wasted her time, just to get her to tell him her secrets without giving her anything in return. Aemond looked at her in surprise.

"I'll show you next time. We're both tired, don't be dramatic." He said calmly, unscrewing his water bottle and taking a few sips.

She didn't know why, but she felt tears welling up in her eyes. She thought it was pathetic, but she couldn't stop it. She saw his eye widen in surprise, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Are you crying?" He asked hesitantly as if to make sure he hadn't imagined it.

"Fuck off." She spat through clenched teeth, though it didn't sound intimidating given her height and voice. She turned tensely and was about to leave for the locker room, but she heard him come quickly to her, grabbing her arm.

"Hey, what's up with you? I promised to teach you, so I will teach you. After all, we didn't just agree on one training, right? We didn't say we'd do everything today." He spoke reassuringly, as if to comfort her.

She stared at him, wondering what had happened to him. She breathed unevenly and wiped her eyes, so that the tears that gathered under her eyelids did not flow down her face. Her lips quivered and she couldn't get a word out.

She heard his low sigh. He pulled her to him and hugged her. She was so surprised that she was speechless, her heart pounding like crazy. His T-shirt smelled of washing powder, sweat, and some strong, male perfume.

She just stood there with her cheek pressed against his chest, letting him wrap one arm around her. She felt his mouth and nose in her hair and shivered all over.

"We'll make an appointment for training again. It was quite nice today, wasn't it?" He asked quietly, his words practically nothing but grunts. She nodded and felt him smile.

She shivered as his hand slid from her hair to the nape of her neck and began to massage her lightly. Her breathing sped up slightly, but she couldn't move. She felt the warmth between her thighs, the pleasant wetness, and she knew what that meant.

"You're terribly tense." He murmured softly, his fingers digging into her skin in circular, intense movements. "You need a little relaxation."

She swallowed loudly as she felt the manhood in his pants pulse hard, pressing against her stomach. She wondered if he had been this hard all along. She felt a tightness in her stomach at the thought. She thought it was humiliating to feel lust in this very moment for him, but she couldn't help it.

She didn't protest when he suddenly grabbed her hips and lifted her up slightly, walking with her towards the locker room. She wrapped her arms and legs around his body, not looking at him or saying anything, trembling all over.

He immediately took her to the bathroom. She knew he would, she knew he wanted to. She wondered if that was why he had suggested training together. She felt embarrassed at the thought of giving him what he wanted.

“No.” She said, breaking free from his grip as he set her down on the ground. He looked at her in surprise and suddenly paled.

"Why?" He asked, swallowing hard. If she didn't know him a bit, she'd think he was desperate.

“So you can tell your friends how I fuck? Call me fucking princess again?" She asked in a trembling voice, wanting to get past him and out of the bathroom, but he didn't let her, grabbing her arm.

"I wouldn't do that. I'm not that much of a bastard." He said quickly, looking at her surprised. She laughed at his words, heartbroken.

"Then why do you keep humiliating me?” She asked with anger and resentment. She saw him purse his lips, squeezing his eyelid shut. He swallowed, glancing at her again, his gaze softer than before.

"I don't know. Maybe it's because I don't have one eye, I have complexes and I'm fucking desperate." He said slowly as he approached her. She took a step back.

"Are you telling me what I want to hear?" She asked incredulously. He rolled his eye, shaking his head impatiently.

"Come here, for fuck sake." He growled, pulling her close to him, biting into her lips so greedily that she was out of breath.

She tried to pull away from him for a moment, but then gave in. She kissed him back, doing what she wanted to do since she first saw him on the pitch. She wanted to join the team to prove something to herself, but she also hoped that he would notice her.

That he will see her hard work.

She saw him pull his shirt over his head. His athletic, muscular body was scarred. He didn't let her ask any questions, his tongue forcing its way through her mouth to her throat. He moaned low as the tip of her tongue touched his.

They started licking and panting as they moved towards the shower. Aemond helped her remove her T-shirt and bra. When he saw her breasts, he lifted her by the hips again, pressed her against the cold tiles and sucked on her breast, causing a loud moan to escape her lips.

He licked and sucked alternately on her nipple, her hands pressing his face hard against her skin. Involuntarily, her hips began to rub against him, searching for any way to find relief.

He pulled off her shorts and panties, making her blush all over. She had never had sex with anyone in such a shameless, direct way, in such a place.

Both of them were panting loudly, her hands quickly helping him to pull his pants off. She gasped as she saw how hard he was, throbbing all over, swollen and quivering, exuding his own juices. He smiled as her gaze involuntarily escaped between his thighs. He grabbed her jaw and lifted her face.

"So? Are we fucking here or in the shower?" He asked tauntingly.

She grabbed his hair tie and pulled it off him, freeing strands of his hair. He did the same, untangling the bun she had tied around her head. She squeezed his hair and pulled him to her, eliciting a hollow, low, startled moan from him as she dug into his lips.

It was her answer.

He slid his hand shamelessly between her thighs, his fingers trailing over her entrance. He hummed low in contentment as her juices literally ran down her thighs, her body quivering with impatience. He pulled away from her lips, starting to massage her slowly, teasing her clit.

"So fucking wet for me. Do you want to feel my cock inside you so badly?” He asked with a hint of amusement and lust at the same time, breathing fast.

He moaned low in surprise as her hand gripped his throbbing erection, starting to massage it up and down. She parted her lips slightly, looking at him with amusement.

"I could ask you the same." She grunted and he grabbed her hair with his free hand, tilting her head back, his hand between her thighs quickening, massaging her with the wet, sticky sound of her juices.

"You are so sassy." He growled, leaning over her, her nipples pressed against his chest. He looked down at her, his whole body trembling all over from the decisive, quick movements of her hand.

"Stop." He finally said, taking her hand. She felt that he was throbbing all over, that he had almost come. She gasped as he lifted her by her hips again, the tip of his cock pressing against her entrance.

"Do you take birth control pills?"He asked as she wrapped her arms around his neck quickly, entwining her legs against his back, breathing fast.

"Yes." She whispered in a trembling voice and moaned loudly with him as he entered her suddenly, without hesitation. She was so wet that he easily slipped all the way in.

Her walls throbbed against him, making him groan helplessly. He began to move inside her quickly, intensely, violently, his hands clenched painfully tight on her hips, her hands entwined in his hair.

They were both panting, moaning alternately, indulging in this mechanical, physical pleasure. His cock rubbed wonderfully at her most pleasant spot, building in her unbearable tension. She knew that if he didn't stop, she was going to come.

"You're not so talkative anymore, hmm?” He asked with low hum, panting, his thighs slapped her ass with each of his thrusts with a wet, sticky sound of their shared juices. His cock pushed wonderfully against her walls, throbbing all over, entering her all the way in each time.

"Fuck off" It was all what slipped out of her mouth like a soft, helpless moan. She felt him quicken as she said that, his movements sudden, brutal and animalistic, seeking fulfillment.

"How hard do I have to fuck you to make you behave? Hmm?" He hissed, enraged by her behavior, his hands tightening painfully on her hips.

For some reason, his words, the way she teased him, made her insides clench greedily over him, heat spilling over her lower abdomen. She felt him push her head back further, holding her hair, forcing her to look up at him, his movements slowing even though she felt that they were both so close to fullfiment.

"I am talking to you." He grunted low, dissatisfied with her lack of any response.

"I thought you wanted to fuck, not talk. You're definitely better at fucking." She said, the corner of her mouth twitching into a smile. She saw him purse his lips.

"And I thought you wanted to come. Your loss." He whispered, running his tongue over his swollen lips, starting to move inside her again, quickly and violently, but changing the angle, so that he avoided the point that gave her the greatest pleasure.

She sobbed softly, her hands clasped on his shoulders, trying to rub against him, but his hands clenched on her hips blocked any movement she could make.

"No. Orgasms are only for good girls." He purred, panting heavily, pumping his swollen cock into her with all the strength he had in his hips, his balls hitting her buttocks, stretching her wet muscles.

She pressed her face against his neck, panting heavily, helpless, her whole body quivering with desire and lust.

"I-I need this, please" She whispered pleadingly, her hand tightening on his hair, feeling like she was about to cry again.

"Will you be good now?" He asked, panting with pleasure, starting to rub her upper wall again where she needed it with such force that the sound caught in her throat, her nipples hard with desire pressed against his chest.

"Yes, I'll be good to you, so, so good, please!" She sobbed loudly, her hips willingly responded to his every thrust. She felt the approaching wave of pleasure, shivers ran through her whole body.

"Now I'm gonna cum inside you, and you're gonna take it like a good girl you are, right?" He hissed on the verge of orgasm, and she leaned back, gasping for air as waves of pleasure and fulfillment flooded her body.

"Yes, yes, yes!" She moaned sweetly like a prayer, rising and falling on his cock with a sticky, wet slap of their shared juices, running down their thighs.

She heard his loud, helpless groan as he came inside her, his hot sperm spilled into her core, filling her completely. He was moving inside her for a moment longer, their sweat bodies sticking to each other.

"That's it. Such a good girl." He hummed, praising her tenderly, stroking her buttocks.

They stood like that for a moment, panting loudly. She squealed softly as he went with her in his arms to the shower. He leaned her back against the wall and turned on the faucet with one hand, making the water run over them.

"Not too hot?" He asked softly, unexpectedly for his usual indifferent and cool tone of voice.

She nodded, and he slid out of her gently, letting her stand on her feet. She felt that gravity worked and his sperm run down her thighs with the water. She swallowed softly as she saw him wipe his face and hair, then looked at her, drops of water running down his fair skin.

"When can we schedule for another training?"

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9

Others: @sumwahwah @chainsawsangel

[homestuckreplay]

Mommy Issues: The Flash Game

(p.388-390)

Page 388 is our first interactive Rose page! I guess p.138 could technically count, but it's the first where we can see her! It's also an iteration on p.90, where John Strifes with his dad. I've been looking at these pages side by side (yes, with the music layered on top of each other), and the animation in Rose's page is both longer and more complex. Even the idle animation - what's happening when you don't click any buttons - has more going on, with Rose doing two separate youth rolls and Rose's mom reacting to attacks, interestingly even when Rose isn't doing anything. Perhaps she is very used to this

We then have four options to choose, compared to John's two. They follow a pattern - the more attack-based moves (shown in Sburb green) begin with AG (Aggress and Aggrieve) - the new one, Aggrieve, is also the name of Rose's theme music that she plays on the violin (p.222) and gets featured here. The more defensive moves (shown in blue) begin with AB (Abjure and Abstain). These are actually Latin word roots, with 'ag-' meaning 'to' or 'towards', and 'ab-' meaning 'away' or 'from'. In the internet age where it's very easy to look up definitions and origins of words, I love that Homestuck is linguistically dense like this, and it doesn't stop it from being accessible to people who are younger or don't have advanced educations.

brief discussion of each of the four options below the cut!

So, these options! 'Aggrieve' is Rose's attack with knitting needles (her kind abstrata) just like John's 'Aggrieve' was a hammer attack - and in both cases, the opponent parries with their own weapon. John's dad almost certainly uses cakekind, while Rose's mom uses... boozekind? beveragekind? martinikind? which gives her incredible possibility for molotov cocktails if she was ever facing down a more formidable foe. It's again a more complex animation than John's, which I think speaks both to Hussie gaining confidence with the flash medium, and to Rose being more experienced with using the knitting needles and with fighting her mom - we learn on the next page that this is a 'daily quota' for Rose's mom.

'Aggress' appropriately becomes 'Passive-Aggress' when we try to select this option. Rose sticks her knitting needles into the broken power socket above the bronzed vacuum cleaner and attempts an 'empty suicide threat' which is some very strong imagery, and honestly a way more manipulative gesture than just passive aggression. We don't see a reaction from Mom, which implies again that this is a daily occurrence, and emphasizes more than anything else so far (in my opinion) just how unhealthy this relationship is. If your kid is making suicide threats, even if what they're trying wouldn't work, even if you think it's "for attention," you should get them some help. What I'm saying is that Rose needs a tentacle therapist of her own.

'Abjure' results in a Guardian Rubric, which for John's dad was 'coddlebrand'. This is from 'coddle' - 'to treat indulgently,' and 'brand' - 'to burn a mark upon with a hot iron', which is really evocative of how John reacts to his dad's coddling, and I think shows us that we're still seeing the fight from John's perspective, even though his dad is the primary actor. In the same way, Mom's Guardian Rubric is 'ironic indulgence', because Rose interprets all her mom's actions as ironic, whether or not that's her mom's intent.

Rose's mom gives her a beautiful pony. Like. For no reason. She brings a living animal into the house, one that requires a lot of skilled care and attention. And it's just a gift she gives her daughter on a whim on a random Monday. I think this shows Mom as a negligent parent far more clearly than any of Rose's words do. If Mom has bought a pony presumably without setting up a stable or learning how to take care of one, it's easy to believe she did the same with Rose - deciding to have or keep a child without understanding how much work went into that, or being willing to learn.

Rose is as resistant to the pony as John was to the cake, but in both cases, they eventually accept the gift. John does this reluctantly because he sees this as the only way to end the strife, while Rose does this after the strife is already over. She creates an illusion of reluctance, but the heart above her head on p.390 suggests that she actually likes this creature. I think Rose is an animal lover in general, someone who'd describe herself as liking animals but not people. She obviously loved her childhood cat a lot and likes this pony too, but overall finds it much easier to acknowledge liking a creature if it's not something typically thought of as 'cute', such as Fluthlu.

Ponies are most commonly an interest of young girls, and the addition of a pink heart and bow make this a very traditionally feminine gift. The same is true of the Pretty Princess Doll on the couch. I think Rose knitting the princess doll an eldritch head and arms is very queer coded, as she twists typical femininity into something less societally approved. I can't wait to see if she does something similar with the pony, maybe swapping out her pink ribbon for something darker and spookier.

The final option is 'Abstain,' another Guardian Rubric. This one is 'ironic negligence,' where Rose's mom offers her the martini to drink and Rose parries with a bottle of water, and as discussed above I don't think it is ironic. I was wrong in an earlier post where I guessed that alcohol was off limits to Rose. It looks like she's been offered alcohol, maybe often, and has responded by being Extremely Straightedge. Maybe she only drinks water and won't even touch kid-appropriate drinks like juice and soda. I think it's not uncommon for children of heavy drinkers to make an effort to not fall into those same patterns, and I also think that Rose intentionally tries to have opposite opinions and behaviors to her mom (even while she's not always successful) and the combination of these two things easily lend themselves to a hardcore water drinker.

Just like in John's Strife, we get to choose which options to click, in what order, and how many times, but we can't win the fight for them. John as the main character had to do that for himself (with some help from the player). In Rose's case, there's no win condition at all and no real goal for either of them. They fight for a while, and then it ends, and they return to their previous activities - Mom doing very real and unironic housework, and Rose leaving the house angrily. John and his dad had conflicting goals they were trying to achieve, but Rose and her mom were fighting for sport because this is a primary way they know how to interact - something to keep in mind for both relationships.

I like seeing the animation get more advanced in Rose's strife - it gets me really excited for something similar with Dave and GG - but honestly nothing in this page beats the sick ass moment where Dad clicks on the lighter and then the music starts playing at the moment all the candles catch fire.

[newnevermind-sanity]

This is probably going to sound more like word vomit but I have a lot of thoughts on Grimm and the Radiance and I would love to get it on paper. The difference between the Nightmare King and the Radiance are night and day, and I find it fascinating that the one with control over NIGHTMARES is the one that's way more approachable and inviting than the main baddie who burns as hot as the sun. Maybe in seeing their differences too we can start to understand (though I doubt we'll ever get an answer) why the Nightmare Realm is now apart from the Dream one.

The difference is the willingness to come down to a Mortal's level.

Grimm has a mortal form. It's one that embodies the cycle of life and death. Burn the father, feed the child. I think however child is not a correct word for what Grimmchild is at first, but simulacrum. A vessel for the new Nightmare King. Much how we were supposed to be a vessel for the Radiance, Grimmchild is a vessel for the Nightmare Heart in a cycle of life and death that fuels it until the ritual fails one too many times and the final embers go out. Whether or not that's willingly is up for interpretation and there's a lot that can be played with here.

The Nightmare King is how he is in dream, with the Nightmare Heart being, well, his heart: his source of power, tucked away in a realm he allows only a select few in. But most won't see that. Only the ones chosen to aid the ritual get to see it. Most people just see a polite troupe master that, while a bit unsettling and creepy, puts on shows to wow crowd, bows before any opponent, and gives kindness to those helping him. He's the one that treats us with the most respect. He disarms our perception of a Nightmare King by coming down to a mortal's level, by being kind and approachable. It's through this method that he's been able to keep going for so long. While others reject him for his nature and for being, well, the Nightmare King, those who are kind and most likely outcasts themselves, are more than willing to help a fellow outcast.

He does show however his real power in dream, but by then you know damn well to expect it. You know this is where he thrives. This is him fueling the fire before you throw him upon it for the child you carry. He is still the Nightmare King, he burns hot and bright, almost untouchable, but he dims that fire in the real world. Instead of an inferno, he's a warm crackling fireplace.

Furthermore he's not an all powerful god, he's a scavenger. He takes the flames of an old dying kingdom and burns them for his ritual, allowing for something new to be reborn from the ashes. He cleans up the last of the mess and leaves a blank slate for the next kingdom that he will one day return to. It may seem as gross and invasive to some who rather peace for the dead, but to others, they're just glad it's gone and can move on in their lives to build something new.

The Radiance on the other hand, is a blinding, burning sun, that can never be touched without serious repercussions.

She doesn't have a mortal form, only appearing in dreams. As such, she requires people to worship her in order to keep her godly form. She needs people to remember her. We're not told too much about the Radiance before she began to infect everyone, but I don't think it's a stretch to say that her moths left her for a reason. The Pale King is a much softer, more gentle light, that encourages thought and free will. Who wouldn't want that, when your previous god is oppressive and intrusive to your own thoughts?

It's hard to forget something like that, even through the generations. Told in whispers around the campfire of the previous god, they unwittingly keep her on life support, enough that she could concoct her scheme of revenge.

She appears as a blinding, burning light in dreams, offering unity at the cost of free will and thought. It burns, it's hard to resist in dream. It smells so sickly sweet that you want to throw up, permeating the senses and blocking all else. Even Void beings that are heavily resistant to this light can give in with enough prodding. There's no sense of humanity or kindness in it. There's no turning it off once it's there.

It's also very clear that she would not have stopped, not until everything was hers in Hallownest, or perhaps even beyond. In her own terror of being forgotten, of facing death in every sense of the word, she clawed her way back violently, not at all caring for the mortals destroyed in her wake, not at all caring about the repercussions to her living jailer, or that she's taking away others autonomy for the sake of being remembered and worshipped like the old days.

She is blinding, intrusive, hot, and at a distance she's warm and radiant. Up close, it's too much for any mortal. It hurts too much to stare into her and become blind to all else. It hurts to try and hold her at bay.

The only thing that can get anywhere near her and swallow her up, is the very Void itself, and the Lord of Shades who controls it.

With all that being said, what we're left with is two very different gods who don't talk about each other. Whether it was because there was no good place to put it, or whether it was on purpose, this is what we got. So then, what happened to make Nightmare split from Dream?

There's three options here as to what caused the rift.

It was a mutual split between two sides that never liked each other or thought it better to not have it together. (Possible, but unlikely. We do not have enough information to know their previous relationship. Friends? Siblings? Lovers? Absolutely loathed each other from the start? No damn idea. They're just connected through Dream with two very different ways of doing things, and I doubt they approved of one another once those were set up.)

Grimm began a conflict leading to the split. (Also very unlikely, unless his personality was different back then and this humbled him into what we see now. Grimm does not pick fights unless they help his ritual, and the only other time he would fight is in self defense, most likely.)

The Radiance began a conflict leading to the split. (Most likely with what we know, unless her personality wasn't as controlling and overwhelming back then. We don't have enough information to be sure.)

In the end it's left to us to speculate, and there's a lot to play with here. It's just important to remember the distinct difference between the two.

TL;DR: Grimm is terrifying and powerful, a swirling inferno, but he dims himself down to be much more approachable and welcoming to mortals like a campfire would be. Radi is terrifying and powerful, but doesn't dim herself down at all, and is just a blinding, burning sun that will melt your face off if you look at it wrong.

[vulpixisananimal]

B-side. Chapter 3

The 4th day

"Ladies and gentlemen, Struggle-fiends of Twilight Town! It's time for summer's most sizzling clash! That's right! Today is the day for the Struggle and title match!"

(The sandlot had been renovated for todays Struggle tournament, with lots of seats and a big combat ring to fight in. It would have been exciting, if you didn't screw things up yesterday. You were standing with the other contestants, who were. . .)

"Welcome, the four bad boys who struggled their way through the preliminaries!" (The guy in charge of all this, you never learend his name, really did like driving up the crowd and making a show of this.)

"Regular finalist and head of the Twilight Disciplinary Committee, Seifer!" (You can see Seifer sneer at you, of course he made it in. Maybe beating him would finally shut up him.)

"Completely out of nowhere, who knew he'd make it so far THIS year? Vivi!" (The small and cheeky looking. . . Uh. . . Shadow person? You didn't know Vivi that much, just that he was good and knew some magic.)

"An underground favorite and local attitude problem, Hayner!" (You look over to Hayner, silently wishing he got over yesterday.)

"It's his first trip to the finals! And Struggler number 4, who happens to be my absolute favorite customer, Roxas!"

(You awkwardly wave to the crowd. Yeah, favorite customer. Last time you checked, you were still being framed for stealing things around town. Why the sudden change?)

"So, who will win this sweltering summer Struggle!? And win our grand prize!! But more importantly, who will get the chance to face off against our surprise champion, the pale blur of Twilight town, Siffrin!!"

(Siffrin waved from nearby to the crowd. Honestly, they looked nervous. Not really used to the attention, maybe? Then why'd they go and beat Setzer? You see him glance over at you, then look away.)

>>>

(Round 1, you and Hayner.)

". . ." (The two of you were all ready in the Struggle arena, foam bats and everything. Hayner looked excited, you sighed, and looked away.) "Hey… Sorry about yesterday."

"What?" (Hayner shrugged.) "You still worried about that? You need to learn to let that stuff go Roxas."

"Sorry. . . I've got a lot on my mind." (You take a breath.)

"Sorry, man- wait," (Hayner gets in his fighting stance.) "What am I sorry for? C'mon! Let's get the match going!!"

(You smile, and get your bat ready. You glance over the crowd, your eyes landing on Pence and Olette cheering you on. Hah, you had some good friends, Roxas.)

>>>

"When did Vivi get so tough?" (Hayner asked.)

(Round 2, Vivi and Seifer. You had one in your match against Hayner, he was bumbed, but bounced back quickly.)

"I dunno. . ." (You say, watching the two go at it.)

(Vivi was fast, faster than you'd seen someone move in a long time. By the look of it, Seifer was just as surprised as you, struggling, haha, to keep up.)

"I guess it wouldn't be the first surprise Struggle winner in the past couple days." (Comments Hayner.)

"Yeah. . ." (You glance over to Siffrin. He wasn't watching the match.)

>>>

(Round 3, you and Vivi.)

(You held you Struggle bat tightly. Vivi had been a beast last round. So much so that Seifer himself had given you some words of wisodom.)

("That's not Vivi, thrash em.")

(Well he didn't have to tell you twice.)

(The match started, and you rush forward, taking a few swipes, but the shorter opponent just dodged and jumped away. You try a few more times but each time he'd jump around with his annoying little laugh.)

(You take a few breaths, alright, if that wouldn't work, let him come to you.)

(Vivi hopped around a bit more, before rushing at you with a few strikes. You block him and take your chance. Striking back at Vivi and connecting!!)

(Just a little bit more of that and you're set, Roxas!)

(And so the little dance continued, don't go on the offensieve, wait for an opening and strike!! Again, and again! Vivi struck again and again, but you already got his whole gameplan locked down!! You parry his next swing and send him flying, now's your chance!! You rush forward and. . .)

(Time stops.)

"Again?!?" (You shake your head.)

(You look around, everyone's frozen. Your Hayner, Pence, Olette, the crowd, Siffrin, all of them unmoving. You took your fighting stance, 'cause you could tell what was going to happen next, and the Keyblade appears in your hands.) "Bring it!!"

(From flashes of dull light four of those dusk things surround you. You got this, you got this, YOU GOT THIS!!!)

(You breathe in, and out.)

(You swing, one at a time!! Again, two, three!! It's easy!! This is EASY!! You jump to the side to dodge one of those sharp limbs, you feet feel like they're floating as you drift around the creature. And that must have confused them!!!)

(Again, and again!! And again!!! One down, you strike the others too, keep going!! Keep going untill-)

(Done!!! Finally!!! Stupid, stupid weirdo stranger things!!!)

(You're panting, and you shake your head. Wow, you were light headed. Looking around, everything was still frozen, though. You look around. . . Do you hear clapping?)

"Roxaaaas, alriiiight, fight fight fight!" (You turn around, there was a man in a black cloak clapping, he walks towards you. You take a step back.)

". . . You really don't remember?" (The figure shakes his head. He takes off his cloaks hood, revealing a head of long, spikey red hair, blue eyes, and teardrop tattoos.)

"It's me, y'know, Axel."

(You squint at the weirdo.) "Axel?"

(He shakes his head.) "Talk about blank with a capital B. . . Dusks wont be enough to get this done."

"Hey what's going on here?!?" (You take a stance, getting annoyed at all of this weirdness!)

"Sorry, no time. You're coming with me, conscious or not." (With a burst of flame, Axel reached out and from nothing summoned a pair of chakrams, and started twirling them in his hands.) "Then you'll get your answers."

"What?!?" (You grip the Keyblade closer.) "No way! Just tell me what's going on!!"

"Number 13. Roxas. The Keyblade's chosen one. . ." (Axel said under his breath. He looks to the side. Then back to you.)

". . . Fine! You asked for it!" (You charge Axel, taking a few swings.)

(Axel blocks easily before swinging one of the chakrams into your side, you grit your teeth feeling the fire glance against you. You hop back as Axel takes advantage of that and swipes at you.)

"Hey! Do I ring any bells yet?!?" (Axel yells as you block the swings. You wait for a second, then counter, swiping under Axels swing and hitting him once, twice, thrice, again!)

(He stumbles back, watching you for a moment before dashing forward and twisting behind you in a fraction of a second. You only just have enough time to turn around and block.)

(You take another step back, and wait for Axel to swing in again, which he does. Just like Vivi. You block it and attack again.)

(You're trading blows, but you can't go on forever, c'mon Roxas, get it together!!)

(Axel swings again, another swipe, another retaliation. Don't get greedy, back up once you got your hits in.)

"Roxaaaas c'mooooon." (Axel's taunting you.)

"Shut up!!!" (You yell, charging at him again. He blocks your blows easily. Stupid, stupid-)

(He charges at you again, Chakrams ablaze. He unleases a fury of attacks, each one harder to keep up with. C'mon, Roxas, just a bit- there!!)

(You see an opening, and take it! You swing for Axel, striking at his chest with all you had!!!)

(And it was enough, he stumbles back.)

(You're panting, out of breath.) "NOW will you tell me what's going on?!?"

"Heh, Sorry." (Axel gives you a grin.) "No can do."

(You feel the world distort even worse than before. You stumble back.)

"Roxas," (A new voice, you turn, theres a man standing nearby, red outfit. Face mostly covered) "this man speaks nonsense!"

"Roxas!" (Axel yells.) "C'mon, don't let him deceive you!"

"Roxas!"

"Roxas!!"

"ROXAS!!!!!"

(You grip your head, it hurts, headache. Eyes squeezed shut, stumbling back. Roxas. Roxas Roxas Roxas Roxas ROXAS!!! STOP! YELLING! YOUR! NAME!!)

"H-Hayner, Pence, Olette. . ." (You mumble to yourself. Your friends, your friends you, you needed your friends you- it was, still just, so loud and-)

"Hey. . ." (You feel a hand on your shoulder, a calm voice, a familiar one.) "Breathe with me, okay?"

(. . . . . . You breathe in. . . . . And out. . .)

(You remove your hands from your head, and look up. The crowd was cheering, Vivi lay defeated at the other side of the arena. Those two men were gone.)

(Looking to your left, Siffrin had their hand on your shoulder, they were smiling at you.)

". . . How'd did you-" (You start, he cuts you off.)

"Looks like you'll be after my championship, big guy." (They pat your shoulder before walking away.)

"Roxas!!" (You turn, your friends were running to you.) "You did it!!"

(. . . Yeah, you really did.)

(Somehow.)

[Prev] [Masterpost] [Next]

[ophanum]

' I'M SO BORED ! - JJK & Lookism crossover

ft. Fem! Reincarnated! Gojo x Various Lookism

Synopsis: After the fight with Sukuna, Gojo was reincarnated to Lookism and became a teacher there. As a teacher himself back then, he began to care for his students like Daniel and automatically landed him in the spotlight of the Lookism universe. Could he still awaken his six eyes?

﹙pt. 1﹚﹙pt. 3﹚

Tags & TW/CW: Lookism-typical violence, stalking, death, spoilers, crack.

Note: If I ever do write male pronouns for gojo accidentally, welp, oopsie. Also how the fuck did I fit that much in this amount of worlds lol.

❝Do you think this will last forever? Do you think we should be together?❞ — I'm so Bored by Sarah and the Sundays.

The rhythmic sizzle of grilling meat filled the air as Gojo Satoru, renowned for her unmatched fighting prowess, enjoyed a date at a local samgyupsal restaurant with Goo from Lookism. Across the table, Goo watched with growing amusement as a man, radiating an aura of arrogance, approached their table.

" You must be Gojo Satoru. Heard you were having a little soiree. Don't mind if I crash, do I?" The man, revealed to be Gun, slams a hand on the table

Gojo, eyes still focused on grilling a perfect slice of pork belly, a playful smirk on her lips "Another fanboy come to witness the legend of Gojo Satoru?" She flips her hair nonchalantly. "How flattering."

Goo, eyes gleaming with predatory interest has a grin on his face when the two of them went eye to eye after what Gojo said. "Hold on a sec, this is getting interesting! Let the strongest fighter in Japan take on the strong white ghost in Korea! Now that's a show I wouldn't want to miss!"

Gojo, finally deigning to look at Gun, raises an eyebrow in amusement.

Gojo was still smirking: "Strong white ghost, huh? Sounds like someone needs a humbling experience. But hey, who am I to deny a little entertainment after a delicious meal?" Gojo wipes her hands with a napkin.

A savage grin erupts on Gun's face. "That's the spirit. Let's see what this legendary fighting style is all about." He cracks his knuckles, his eyes gleaming with a challenge.

Satoru, her smirk widening, slams her hand on the table, the force sending shivers down Goo's spine. She stood, towering over Gun with an aura of quiet confidence.

Gojo whispered, voice laced with amusement, "Let's make this a bit more interesting, shall we?"

She stood up and stretches Leisurely.

"I knew from the moment I agreed to this little date with Mr. Goo over here that someone had eyes on me." I didn't know it was powerful people. Yeah, Gojo could feel it. Her eyes...

She laughed. "This room might get a little cramped with all this excitement."

Goo, adrenaline pumping, watches as Satoru step outside, her movements radiating a practiced fluidity. Gun follows eagerly, a hungry glint in his eyes.

The fight explodes in a flurry of punches and kicks. Despite not wielding curses, Satoru's speed and technique are unparalleled. She dodges Gun's wild attacks with an almost casual grace, countering with lightning-fast strikes of her own.

Goo's eyes were wide with awe. "Now that's some serious skill! She can read every move and turn it against her opponent!"

The fight continues, a breathtaking display of raw talent and honed instincts. Goo, a formidable fighter himself, can't help but be mesmerized by Satoru's every move. Satoru, despite her playful demeanor, is undeniably a force to be reckoned with.

Gun huffed, a breathless laugh escaping his lips. "This is incredible! I haven't seen anything like it!"

The fight culminates in a spectacular display of Satoru's prowess, with a well-placed kick. Gun, panting but exhilarated, stares up at Satoru, a grudging respect blooming in his chest.

Gojo had a triumph grin on her face. "Well, Gun? Satisfied with the demonstration? Perhaps next time, you'll challenge me to something a little more... challenging."

Gun wiped sweat from his brow, a wide grin mirroring Satoru's "That was one hell of a fight! Consider this a promise, next time we meet, I'll be ready for anything you throw at me."

Satoru bumps her fist against Gun's, the air crackling with a newfound camaraderie. Despite the interruption, their date continues, seasoned now with the thrill of the unexpected battle. Both Satoru and Gun, reveling in the taste of a worthy opponent, knew this wouldn't be their last encounter.

--

She hadn't been back to school in ages. Between errands and adjustments (government stuff, no less!), she barely had time to breathe. There she was, sitting on the playground again, ice cream in hand, watching a bird peck at a discarded sandwich.

She kept going back to this spot. It reminded her of a life she could have had, back in the old world.

She stumbles upon the shocking truth: Daniel has two bodies.

But before we get ahead of ourselves…

Back home, emptying her pockets, she felt a familiar bump in her jeans. It was the brass knuckles she'd snagged from Logan, who'd taken them from Daniel. Curiosity gnawed at her – why would Daniel need a weapon? She planned to return them, of course.

At J High, she asked around for Daniel's address. People were weirded out, even more so when she followed up with if he lived alone. Now that was a red flag.

Why would anyone ask for someone's address and if they were home alone unless they had bad intentions?

Gojo wasn't taking any chances. A gun to the head wasn't exactly the welcome she envisioned. After all, if it were Daniel's parents who answered, they might go ballistic, assuming the worst. Gojo had seen parents like that before – a definite no-go.

Finding someone who knew Daniel's whereabouts proved difficult, as expected. But there was one person - a friend of Daniel's, whose name completely escaped Gojo at the moment. (Details weren't important right now. Porbably a name that rhymes with Loo)

With a deep breath, Gojo rapped on the door. No answer.

She tried again, louder this time. Still nothing.

Finally, with a hint of desperation, she turned the doorknob.

Trespassing was definitely not her brightest move, and the potential consequences were looming large. Royally screwed? Absolutely.

But the sight that greeted her was unexpected. Daniel was there, alright, but there was also another person sprawled naked on the floor.

Yikes.

"Hello," Gojo greeted, trying to sound nonchalant despite the bizarre scene.

Daniel's reaction was explosive.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!?" he roared, clearly flustered.

"Now, now, Daniel, don't be a stranger! Just dropping by to see how my favorite student spends his free time. Oh, hygiene! You never disappoint! But quite boring if you ask me."

Now, to Gojo's amusement, Daniel was also shirtless. While this might have been a different scenario for most, Gojo (deep down, a true gentleman) simply extended her hands, the brass knuckles glinting in her palm. Her expression remained playfully smug: ":>"

"Oh, thank you."

"Don't sweat it."

"And you!" She smacked his head. "Did your momma ever teach you some basic home security? Like, knocking or locking doors?"

Daniel's passed out. Gojo didn't smack his head that hard din't she?

Gojo chuckles under his glasses. "Oof, looks like someone put Sleeping Beauty to sleep a little too soundly, eh?" Gestures nonchalantly to Daniel.

And the other person that was on the ground sat up.

The other person sat up from his futon. "I can explain!" He said, flustered.

"I genuinely apologize-!" Gojo said but then raised a brow to what the other person that was previously laying down said, she raised a tall brow with wide eyes under her glasses. "What...?"

"Uh���" The guy on the ground said, standing up slowly because of his chubby body. "What did you do to Daniel?"

Others might be stumped but Gojo is intelligent. Everyone seems to forget that.

"\Whoa whoa whoa, hold up a sec. Did someone just put Sleeping Beauty over there to nap... permanently?"

And then Gojo smacked that person's head as well.

--And thats why people forget she was.

Daniel woke up, just when the other person fainted. Gojo caught on to this fascination.

"Intriguing. Looks like Sleeping Beauty number two decided to take a nap too. Fascinating turn of events, wouldn't you say?"

"I can explain!"

"Uh-huh." She crosses her arms with a smirk. "Now, now, Daniel, I knew violence isn't the answer... unless, of course, it is, in this case. Let's hear it, folks. This badass is all ears... figuratively speaking, of course."

The revelation hit Gojo hard. Daniel possessed two bodies, and a desperate search for answers consumed her. His primary objective intertwined with another, both leading him down a dark path – the Korean gang underworld.

As Daniel meticulously laid out his situation, a stark contrast to his usual school demeanor, Gojo captivated him with her unwavering focus. Unlike the animated expressions he was accustomed to, her face remained an unreadable mask. It fueled his suspicion.

This country, universe, oozed an unsettling aura. Two bodies. Gangs. Gojo, he realized, was just the tip of the iceberg. Years of navigating treacherous social circles had honed his instincts. He knew there was a far more sinister reality lurking beneath the surface of these gangs.

"Not only that, but there are four of big--, well... three... but—" Daniel stopped to realize there was no response coming from his teacher. "Gojo?"

Silence from her.

"Secrets, huh?" She rubbed her chin. "Like they could keep anything hidden from me. Amateurs."

Daniel knew absolutely what she meant. And he nodded firmly.

Gojo stood up. Daniel watched him expectedly.

"Think you can keep up, slowpoke? Time to see if their defenses can handle the limitless power of Gojo Satoru! Let's go bust some heads..."

"Huh!?"

"Can't infiltrate on an empty stomach, right? Besides, I wouldn't want you slowing me down during our grand entrance. My treat, by the way!"

"Gojo, why are you like this!?" Daniel cried.

"Besides, enough with the Ms. Gojo stuff. Call me Satoru. We're about to be on a first-name basis after I expose these fools," she said with a confident grin.

This was Gojo's initiation into the grand scheme. Workers, the first domino. Hostel, Big Deal, and other factions soon followed.

Gojo already knew Eli Jang as a student. He was rather popular with the girls and it didn't leave Gojo's eyes when he was swarmed by girls alike in the school after periods. Because she's still a professor, and a cool one at that, she still talked to them. Which she often regrets because the effect of the wild fangirls wanting to murder her that instant she walked in.

But hey, she never learned her lesson when the rumors spread about there's something going on between her and Daniel. yeah, what a shit show. But maybe it was because she kept asking students where Daniel lived, and when she came to school, it was the exact same time Daniel came in. they were also talking regularly which other people have took note of.

So what did Gojo do? Nothing but fuel the fire.

She would wrap his arms around Daniel's shoulder, pay him extra attention to class, and make small talk in the cafeteria. What can she say? She doesn't give a fuck. But at the same time, she had to talk to him about what's been happening in the shadows of Korea.

Yes she have heard the kidnapping of a lot of kids. But she didn't know that is also tied up to these gangs. And it was from Hostel. The name striked a chord with her. Hostel…

That was one of the names that Eli Jang told her when she also found out he had a daughter.

She never asked for the info, but hey, by all means Eli Jang could vent if it means it distracted him from cutting Gojo's hair off.

She's kidding. But have you seen what he could do?

You'll find her a mile away.

Eli Jang never thought of Gojo as anything other than a cool teacher. It was weird that she had the courage to talk to him after all that has been going around him. But how they escalated to him talking about his past to Gojo? Well, she knew how it hurts. They met at the playground where the children were, Eli Jang was with his daughter and tried to give her some fresh air and well, that's where Gojo found him.

And she found him indeed.

Gojo was happy when he talked about how he's keeping this child's mother's promise. But when the light memory connected to the dark one by what's happening in Hostel right now, Gojo could piece one and two together and completed what makes Eli tick.

Eli knew how she can fight. Hell, what she showed by time to time in the escalating difficulty of her class was enough, what more if she actually gave out her limit?

And that's how she met Olly.

Eli didn't ask of her to fight with him. In fact, he did the opposite.

But who the fuck cares.

"The name's Gojo Satoru, the one and only! And let me tell you, strongest fighter you'll ever meet isn't just a title, it's a fact. Consider yourself lucky to be gracing the presence of greatness. Now, what can I do you for?"

Olly's feelings towards Gojo are complex. It's a mix of negative emotions with a hint of twisted respect for his power. She came into their base like she wax going to go sight seeing. Ollyenied Gojo for being free. Olly Wang was a fighter with immunity to pain. Gojo was a fighter with a calmness and fluidity unmatched. It was safe to say it was the most satisfying battles ever.

Olly chuckles, "You may be strong, Gojo, but arrogance is your weakness. You underestimate me. Hehe."

Gojo walks towards Olly slowly.

In a way, Olly Wang reminds him of a certain stitched curse.

"Maybe. But underestimating weaklings is a luxury I can afford."

Olly stands and wipes blood from his mouth. "Don't be so sure. This "weakling" is evolving. And evolution can be messy!"

"Ooh, someone's feeling feisty! Don't worry, little grasshopper, I wouldn't dream of underestimating you. After all, you might actually manage to land a hit on me... maybe. Consider it a learning experience for the both of us."

Ultimately you know how that ends.

And for some reason, someone got the "permission" to film all of that. Gojo formed veins in her head when Daniel showed him the video.

"Oh wow! Someone caught that on camera? Looks like I'm trending!" She forced a grin. "Who dared to record this? This is a breach of security and could compromise the safety of everyone involved."

"I don't know, but we need to find them and shut this down."

"You're right. I'll inform someone I know and see if they can track down the source."

Too late, a lot of people saw the video. And let's just say a lot of people wanted to test their strength on her. Her name started to get around.

Among those impressed by Gun's praise of your strength was Samuel Seo. The idea ignited a ridiculous urge within him: a burning desire to fight you.

He finally encountered you near J High, casually buying a drink at a convenience store. Despite not facing him, you garnered his interest with your undeniable beauty. But the moment you turned, your icy blue eyes, legendary throughout the school, locked onto his. The encounter left Samuel unsettled, stirring a dormant bloodlust within him.

Later, during the Type-Two altercation orchestrated by Daniel, you entered the scene, a wide grin plastered across your face.

"Haven't I seen you before?"

"I should be saying the same thing to you," He stared with clasped hands that are propped by the elbows on his desk. "Limitless fighter."

"E-Ew, that's such a dumb nickname." Gojo cringed.

News of the newcomer reached Eugene, and "surprised" wouldn't even begin to describe his reaction. She wasn't what he'd anticipated, yet a sliver of dread snaked its way into his gut. He pressed his hand to his lips, his mind racing as he strategized their next move. This woman was a force to be reckoned with.

"What do you know of this person?"

"Everyone fears and praises her for her speed, sir."

"What makes her different from Goo? Gun? DG?"

"She'll read your mind sir."

"She'll know what your next move is before you know what hit you. Like she can read your mind. I have never seen anyone fight like that. Not even the king of Seoul."

"Speaking of the king of Seoul!" She walked in.

All of their eyes widened.

"I just met him last week, nice fellow."

Eugene forced a mask of composure. His men stood guard, tense and watchful. Without his restraining signal, the room would have erupted into chaos.

Honestly, the king of Seoul...

Gojo, still breathless from his encounter, found him. Sure, Gojo almost ended Daniel back then, but this new arrival intervened and somehow negotiated with the "king." It stirred a memory within him, a pang reminiscent of Nanami.

Despite the situation, the woman maintained a smile as she conversed with Jichang. Daniel spearheaded the questioning, while Gojo wallowed in his own past, unable to mask his emotions. Jichang, finally noticing Gojo's unease, turned his gaze towards him.

"If you keep looking at me like that I think I might melt." He jokingly said.

"You're quote handsome." she quipps.

His eyes widened and gave a sigh.

"But of course, I don't see you that way!" She gave an eat shitting smirk. "Something bothering you?"

JIchang leans back in his chair, a hint of frustration in his voice "Just the usual. Higher-ups breathing down our necks, intel on gang activities drying up... it feels like we're flying blind into a hurricane."

Gojo stops looking far off for a moment. "Hmm, I see. Well, don't worry your pretty head about it. We'll figure something out. After all, we have the strongest on our side, right?"

Jichang stared deeply for a second, before answering. "Strength isn't everything, Gojo. Even you can't solve every problem with brute force."

"Maybe not. But a little optimism never hurt anyone, did it, Jichang? Besides, who knows, maybe this "hurricane" will blow something interesting our way."

Said man doesn't respond, simply stares at Gojo with a skeptical look.

A tense silence hangs in the air for a moment. Gojo sighs dramatically.

"Fine, fine. Back to the soul-crushing planning. But if you need a distraction from your worries, feel free to spar with me later. Just a friendly little warm-up, of course."

A wave of nostalgia washed over her as she saw him. It was a stark contrast to the harsh reality of her situation. She was in Eugene's office, a place where violence could erupt in an instant, a chair away from a potential target. Yet, the smile she offered remained, strained but present.

Don't worry, Nanami-kun. I'll get a handle on it. Always do. Just a moment of weakness, you see. A strong man needs a good vent every now and then, right?

"You don't have to carry this burden alone, Gojo. That's what we have each other for." Nanami said.

Gojo looks at Nanami, a flicker of hope rekindled in his unseen eyes.

Gojo voices out, his voice hoarse, "Yeah... I know. Thanks, Nanami-kun. Maybe you're right. Maybe together, we can weather this storm."

Gojo closed her eyes and land it on Eugene, who, with a wicked smile, watches her expectantly. She gave him a smile of her own.

"Okay! I'm so bored already," She walked over to one of his guards, who weirdly looked like his brother.

Eugene, the mastermind behind the operation to topple Charles Choi, lifted an eyebrow. He was the strategic root of the entire plan, the one who held the key to their ultimate goal. If they ever wanted to escape this life, the burden of success rested squarely on his shoulders.

"Let's play a game, shall we?"

3.2k words...

[vellaphoria]

for the ask game!! 6 (obvi!) and 25 for tim? or dick

Hi anon! Thank you for the ask <3

(ask game prompts are here)

25. What's your least favourite thing [character] said or did?

For Tim, I really like his duel with Shiva in the last issue of the post-crisis Robin run. Aka she challenges him to a fight to the death and he sneaks a paralytic into the chocolate offered by her hotel that will knock her out if her heart rate rises. I think this fight is a pretty good summation of everything that Tim is by the end of Robin. He fights smarter rather than harder. Shiva is an opponent who he knows he can't beat in a fair fight, so he doesn't fight fair. But also, the fight shows off his more audacious side. Because the paralytic only activates if Shiva's heart rate rises, he's banking on her heart rate rising at least four beats while facing him. Given how easily Shiva could wipe the floor with him, that's a huge risk. And, as his internal monologue says, it's very presumptuous of him.

tl;dr: Tim's fight with Shiva in Robin #183 is short but excellent

Edit: I just re-read this and realized it says least, and apparently I can't read lol. Anyway, my least favorite thing Tim said would probably be the sexist comments from when Dixon was writing him. And some of the other viewpoints Dixon used Tim's comics to make. There's an especially stupid metaphor about having sex being like going through a door, because once you've gone through it you can't go back. That's not how doors work?

ANYWAY.

6. An excerpt from the DickTim slowburn I've been working on:

Some of the safe houses are little more than a mostly secure area in which they can patch up and eat something without as much of a risk of being attacked. This one is different; the one room on this level to remain mostly intact happened to be someone’s bedroom, once. 

When Dick first found it, he’d shoved the mattress into a corner of the room and piled it with all the blankets and other insulating fabric he could find in the general vicinity. It still isn’t much, and there’s part of Dick that sorely misses the heavy down comforter in his Blüdhaven apartment, but it should be enough to get them through the rest of the night.

He's out of the Nightwing suit and under the covers before the cold has a chance to sleep through the shirt and spandex that he wears under his uniform. 

Tim just stares at him for a moment. 

When Dick risks moving an arm out from under the blankets to pat the space next to him, Tim looks away.

He resists the urge to grumble about the fact that Tim wouldn't be Tim if he didn't hesitate a little before engaging in interpersonal contact. Even now.

But they’re in the middle of Gotham’s ruins, in a safehouse that is far less insulated than he’d like it to be, and the temperature is only going to keep dropping.

“Are you going to stand there all night?” Dick asks. “Because if you haven’t noticed, it’s pretty cold out. And I’d really rather not be the one to tell Bruce that you froze to death on your feet.”

Tim tenses and suppresses what was probably supposed to be a yawn. He looks like he really would rather huddle up in the corner of the room and slowly turn into a Timsicle overnight. 

But, in the end, rationality wins out. With Tim, it usually does.

Dick rolls onto his back and closes his eyes. 

The room echoes slightly with the sound of security mechanisms being disarmed, metal clasps detaching, and the rasp of kevlar on cotton. Then, there’s a moment of silence before the corner of the layered blankets is pulled back. The mattress depresses slightly as Tim crawls beneath the covers, throwing them up as high as they’ll go without impairing his ability to breathe. 

It leaves him about an inch away from Dick, close enough that the blankets start to do their job by trapping as much heat as two bodies can reasonably generate in these conditions. 

Tim shifts around a bit. To some, it might seem like he’s trying to get comfortable. 

To Dick, it seems more like he’s trying to hide the fact that he’s still shivering. 

Outside, the sun has fully set, taking the last of the warmth with it. And the last of the light.

“Hey,” he says. “Come here?” 

He didn’t quite mean it to be a question. But physical contact is always a bit of a gray area with Tim, so it’s probably better to err on the side of caution.

Tim stops moving. He doesn’t stop shivering.

It’s gotten dark enough that he can’t quite make out Tim’s expression, but he can see the way that he turns his head to look at him. 

“I can give you the list of logical reasons why sharing body heat is a good idea right now,” Dick says. “But I’d be lying if I said my motivations were purely selfless.”

Tim’s laugh is short and quiet, but it’s there.

“Please, Tim?” he asks. 

That earns him a quick, sharp inhale. It’s the sort of thing that Tim wouldn’t let slip unless under great duress. 

He’s pretty sure the current state of Gotham qualifies.

“Conservation of warmth,” Tim mutters. It’s half a non-sequitur and half sounds like he’s trying to convince himself. It probably doesn’t help that he says it in the same way that he’d say “collateral damage” or “Bruce is looking for you.”

The way that he shifts closer isn’t quite awkward, but it isn’t quite natural either.

Despite the darkness, he unerringly finds Dick’s shoulder and prods at it until he moves his arm enough to create a makeshift pillow. There’s a deliberateness to the way that he wraps an arm around Dick’s chest and presses his hand against his side, pulling the two of them close enough that there isn’t space between them. 

He wraps his free arm around Tim and tries not to think about how he can feel the definition of ribs through skin and too-thin cotton. 

Tim sighs against the skin of his neck. His exhale might be the warmest thing Dick has felt in days. 

They’re close enough that he can feel Tim’s heart in his chest. It’s beating much quicker than the general torpor of the rest of Tim’s body would have suggested. 

“You okay?” he asks, eventually.

“… Yeah.” 

When he moves his head, the tip of his nose brushes Dick’s collarbone.

“Are you?” Tim asks.

“Ask me again tomorrow,” Dick mutters. “But, for the moment… it’s better with you here.”

Tim moves his head until his forehead is in the hollow between Dick’s neck and shoulder. He tightens his hold and Dick pulls him closer in response.

Dick doesn't know what will try its best to kill them tomorrow. If it'll be the gangs or the hunger or the ever-present cold. 

They don't have enough medical supplies for their injuries, or enough food to keep them full, or even enough semi-insulated bases to keep them warm while they sleep.

But they have each other. And, somehow, that's enough.

[waksworldrebooted]

MTV Era Motorcity Masterpost (+ NEVER BEFORE SEEN INFORMATION)

In 2000, Chris Prynoski pitched a cartoon called Motorcity.

He made a card and a website promoting the show, which wouldn't see the light of day until the Walt Disney Company got their hands on it.

THE SETUP

"MotorCity is The Dukes of Hazzard meets Akira. It's American Graffiti and Big Daddy Roth rumbling with 8 cylinders into the world of Sci-Fi. It's the heart of American car culture driven to the next level."

 "Sex, cars, Rock & Roll, and the freedom to wrap your ride around a tree trunk goin' 160."

"In the near future, concerns over global warming, pollution, and the ever-worsening problem of gridlock in America’s major cities brings about the Anti-Combustion Acts of 2009." "These laws banned the use of any vehicle powered by an internal combustion engine. At first there was a lot of vocal opposition. But the so-called "Digital Revolution" as well as the advent of amazing new transportation technologies neatly filled the void, and the benefits of an improved environment along with a safer, faster and more efficient means of getting from point A to B managed to win even the staunchest opponents over. The oil companies and car manufacturers were forced to shut down under the political and economic pressures." "And a new era was born. Cleaner, faster and safer. America’s cities became modern utopias where its citizens could travel without fear or hazard in comfortable flying boxes affectionately known as "living rooms", and Detroit (The Renaissance City), became the finest example of this new policy. But with all of this wondrous innovation, something was lost. Something inherent in the soul of old America, something called freedom. The freedom to go anywhere. Anyhow. As fast, or as slow as you want. The freedom to speed. And the freedom to die." "This is where our characters come in. A few radicals realized that although you might never die in the "living rooms" , you’ll never really live in them either. So in the "Live fast and die young" mind-set, they fight the law. Scavenging parts and gas from Detroit’s massive underground, Mike Chilton and his gang, as well as a few others are trying to recapture some of what it meant to risk all for the freedom of speed."

THE CHARACTERS

Mike Chilton: A young talent on the illegal race circuit. Mike's right leg is always twitching and itching to jam a gas pedal to the floorboards, and his foot is as lead as they come. He's got gasoline surging through his veins and a 450 horsepower soul. His heart burns to drive and it's all he can do to keep moving faster and faster so that the flames don't consume him. He might be a gangly 19-year-old kid, but his ride has as much muscle as he'll ever need and he knows how to use it.

Vehicle of choice: Retrofitted '77 Trans Am

Julie Capulsky: An Anthropology student with a quick mind and a quicker pulse. She's a city girl with a passion for adventure who's secretly writing a paper on the underground "Burner" culture. As she gets to know Mike and his crew, she feels the freedom of the road and learns the power of a rumbling big block at her command. She is torn between the high performance life of a Gearhead and the love of her father who has sworn to take them down.

Vehicle of Choice: Any Hot Rod that'll give her a ride.

Lt. Capulsky: Julie's Dad and head of Detroit's Anti-Combustion Enforcement Division. He's old enough to remember when the highways were the arteries of America and the drivers were its blood. He rode with Fast Eddy in his youth and understands the joy of inhaling the fumes of burning rubber as the hot road turns his tires to black jelly. He's forced to deal with enforcing a law he's not sure he believes in. But that doesn't stop him from holding the record for the most illegal auto busts in the state of Michigan.

Vehicle of choice: Police "Living Room"

Ed Pirelli: (Fast Eddy) The old-timer who serves as Mike and the crew's link to the past, as well as their guide for the future. A wrecked hulk of a man, Eddy lived in a time when America was the land of wide-open spaces, and you had the liberty to go where, when and how you wanted to travel. You had the freedom to live, and the freedom to die. None of those damn boxes.

Vehicle of choice: Retrofitted '58 Chevy Roadster

Greg Raden: This young cop looks up to Lt. Capulsky as his ultimate hero. Born after the Anti-Combustion Act, He doesn't understand the rush of a vibrating steering wheel responding to every reflex of your sweaty palms. He wants nothing more than to grind the gears of the "Burners" to a halt.

Vehicle of choice: Police "Living Room"

Dave Earnhardt: Mike's worthy rival on the race circuit. He's a speed demon who stops at nothing to win. He might be Mike's worst enemy on the tar, but he'd take a speeding bullet for him off the track.

Vehicle of choice: Retrofitted '69 Camaro RS

Holly Biscayne: A fellow "Burner" who has a thing for Mike. She's jealous and suspicious of Julie's big city motives. She wants to make sure that when the checkered flag waves, she'll be on top.

Vehicle of choice: Retrofitted '05 Jaguar convertible

Brute Conklin: The bastard child of internal combustion and computer technology. This crafty gearhead beats "The Man" at his own game with a never-ending digital assault on the computers that control the Global Satellite System.

Vehicle of choice: Chopped 98' Harley Pan-head

Claire Constance: This ice queen might look like a hot number, but she's really a wet blanket who tries to smother her best friend Julie's fire. She can't understand what's with risking your life in the "sewers" when you can be shopping in style in the safety and comfort of your own clean home.

Vehicle of choice: None if she can help it

Promo card released in 2000

Concept art made shortly after the trailer (ones that closely resemble the final show)

From left to right: Luv (Dutch), Holly Biscayne, Chuck, Mike Chilton, Julie Kapulsky, Claire Constance, Texas, Greg Raden (Tooley), Lt Kapulsky (Abraham Kane), and The Mayor of Detroit

Pitch Trailer

[jermagaunt]

Another game and this one was very close! Same opponent as the Tyranid list I lost horribly to but it was my Black Templar list (every list I run is very slightly different as I try out slightly different stuff but i can give lists if anyone is interested) Vs Votann this time. First picture is after setup and scout moves. I went first and we're playing linchpin with search and destroy deployment and smoke and mirrors mission rule.

I pushed forward aggressively first turn to get some good primary scoring turn 2, drew bad secondaries so didn't score many of them. Did no shooting and got pretty poor advances on all my guys so a few had to stay out in the open. I pushed my land raider forward because there were no tyrannofexes to threaten a one shot on it...

...You may notice in the next picture that there is no longer a land raider. The Hekaton managed to get a sustained hit 2 on it with it's d6+6 damage shot and wounded with all of them... The one time I wasn't massively cagey with my land raider and fairly confident it won't blow up turn one and it does... Anyway, the show goes on and thankfully the rest of the shooting didn't wipe out any of my other units (he did get his 3 extra cp for the land raider being a judge target though). Not great secondary scoring for my opponent either set me up for a big turn of primary. Oh yeah, I also overwatched his little transport and got 3 hits on it with eradicators which was insane! Only got one wound but did max damage and it then suicided into my crusader squad.

Turn two I got lots of primary and stupidly pulled my scouts off the objective they needed to hold so I wouldn't score it next turn, my opponent rapid ingressed his deep strike unit on to take my home objective (just out of frame) and I did some hiding with my now vulnerable sword bros. Was able to get some good secondary scoring this turn and still holding a fair few objectives if I can keep them for turn 3

Very effective dispatching of my units on objectives turn 3 meant I was gonna have a turn of no primary. Sword bros survived and I rapid ingressed my reserve crusader squad to deal with the little guy terminators on my home. Thankfully the sword bros survived as my opponent focused my squads on objectives.

My turn 3, got back onto some objectives and took my home back effectively. Got bring it down and was hoping to get both Hekatons after wounding the further one last turn. Unfortunately my eradicators did nothing that turn and my laser destroyer also whiffed leaving it on 7 wounds still after 2/3 6+ saves being made! (Might've been 5+, it was still very sad). The sword bros managed to make their charges to blow up the land fortress (with a reroll needed as they still both only just made their 6" charges, the crusaders made their 1" charge with double 6s though so don't worry about them). I should have consolidated into the other unit at this point and saved some CP for no escape (to stop them leaving combat) and armour of contempt but I felt like I needed the help with the land fortress so spent on on +1ap (Helbrecht ended up killing it without the help of his squad which was expected)

Must've missed a picture as we were rushing to finish the game but the last few turns had my sword bros with Helbrecht shot to shit (hence why they shouldve moved to combat and no escaped). And my sword bros ran to the middle to get me primary for the last turn and finish off the Votann squad there who were currently scoring to get me assassinate as well

We were both convinced the Votann couldn't catch up by the last turn but t was a lot closer than it seemed by the end, my sword bros failed every save so didn't get me any score turn 5 and I drew no secondaries I could score even after a redraw (apart from two from cleanse). A big 13 on primary for the last turn after my squad was wiped saw my opponent finish the game just two points behind me!

Very close game, I thought it was all over for me with that turn one land raider death but I was able to keep scoring up despite that big hit early on. Feel like I still learn every game and hope I can rematch this list and eventually beat his nid list! Anywhere, here are the final results