#Outsmarting the defense
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When I started Dark Souls I was already aware that you lost all of your souls upon death, but I admit that I did not expect the game to have an retrieval system! And I really like the way it works.
Thanks to it, dying can actually mean getting more souls, if you're able to safely return to your death point, that is. If you do, you probably had to defeat the majority of enemies in the way (otherwise they just brutally murder you anyway xD), which means that you certainly got a generous amount of new souls on your return trip.
Now sum your retrieved souls with that new amount and get a nice reward for doing your best to survive until the retrieval point!
Of course, there's the risk of dying before retrieving your souls which means losing them forever, but as you get more experient at working around the enemy placement, that barely becomes a problem. Well at least in the area i'm currently at xD. (plus, there's nothing stopping you from returning to the latest bonfire to level up! It's not like you already killed all the threats behind you.).
#i did not expect any retrieval system in ds because sekiro didn't have one#although to be fair exp in sekiro has a much lesser impact compared to souls in ds#i still got pissed everytime that stupid buddha gave me his blessing only when i already had lost all exp xD#bastard#thank you retrieval system for letting me safely retrieve the 9000 souls i got from dying 10 times in a row trying to kill that one knight!#(eventually i just outsmarted him and stole the ring)#(let he live i guess)#(also what a dumb ring whats the point of raising defense when your hp is low?)#(well maybe if you have a lot of hp and resistance which i don't)#dark souls
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In art, positive feelings are dumb and negative feelings are smart. This is an association I've noticed in especially online discussions of media, it is an error that has gone uncorrected for entirely too long.
This association is bolstered whenever someone says that you shouldn't criticize the mario movie too harshly because it's "fun" and light frivolous things are self justifying. This association is bolstered whenever people continuously categorize media that makes you feel bad as a strictly adult afair, that anything sad or disquieting or revolting is somehow trying to outsmart you and you're actually very cool & hip for rejecting it in favor of dumb pleasures.
This association leaves two categories of art completely outside of discussion and dying for air. Firstly, art that is joyous and life affirming in a mature and reflective way. It'd seem almost sacrilegious to describe Kiki's Delivery Service as "Wholesome," even though it is such prime comfort cinema there's just so much more to it than that. It's a tangibly adult perspective on the themes it presents. But the "happy=dumb" association is set so deep that nearly all critical discussion about miyazaki's movies is about how pretty and sweet they are. They exist in this category of being overexposed yet somehow still unappreciated.
But then there's the inverse, art that makes you feel like shit in a simple and single minded way. Irreversible is the worst time you can have with a movie, probably, and it (affectionately) has nothing going on under the hood. It's a pain box. This category of art tends to confound folks far more than the previous, it elicits a "what's the point??" usually, or if any concession is made towards allowing uncomfortable art to exist it's with the caveat that it has to "justify" it's discomfort. Simple displeasures don't have the same assumed good faith as simple pleasures. The surface level ways in which a film like Irreversible makes you feel like you've been beat up after it's finished? Not worth mentioning.
There's graver consequences to these two boulder-sized blindspots in artistic conception. Like, because negative emotions are smart, people think that making entertainment out of real life tragedies can be de-facto respectful so long as they make the emotions in their entertainment negative enough. It doesn't matter that Netflix's Dahmer plays defense for the killer and uses the image of black people as a boringly virtuous collection of punching bags to milk tragedy from, if it just makes you feel bad enough, gives the surface level impression of graveness, then it's fine that you're making entertainment out of real life people's personal real life tragedy that still exists in recent memory for many people.
I want to elevate joy, bring it into critical attention, stop taking it for granted. I also want to de-elevate misery, take it off it's false pedestal, let us realize that it's all art. FEELINGS are self justifying, not just good ones.
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DP x DC: More stuff to know about Constantine
Just some facts about John Constantine that I don’t see come up in this crossover that I think people could have a lot of fun with. He’s more than just useful for consulting, though he does see himself as a detective, just one specialized in supernatural cases.
-Canonically bisexual: that’s right, canonically bisexual, and a lot of his exes have tried to kill him
-Has demon blood in his veins: this is a fun one because demon blood has ceraint properties in the Hellblazer universe. Chiefly, accelerated healing. John is shown to recover from non-fatal wounds relatively quickly. It’s even been used as a defense mechanism against the King of Vampires. It is also shown to slow down the aging process. John is actually a lot older than he looks
-Ages in real time: Okay, don’t know how this could be used in a fic but it’s fun. He has aged in real time since his first appearance and last mention of his age put him at 60. Currently he’d be turning 70 this year, so that demon blood really keeps him spry
-synchronicity wave traveling: this is his instinctual ability to manipulate coincidences. Aka, he manipulates luck. This means he can’t lose at gambling unless he wants to, and as long as he’s using this ability, he’s pretty much invincible for the duration, because he manages to avoid getting hit by bullets, and spells, as well as jinxing the people trying to hurt him. He’s not only a lucky bastard, but a magically lucky bastard. This ability even worked on the first of the fallen, aka Satan. It is OP while he’s using it.
-The Laughing Magician: He has the title of the laughing magician. There have been multiple over the ages but John is the current one. They are known for their tendency for rebuking and outsmarting Gods, Demons, Spirits and just about everything else. Some even managed to destroy or use Gods for their own purposes. Soley members of Constatine’s bloodline can achieve this title and it’s what gives him the ability to use the synchronicity wave. It also gives him resistance to literal omniscience, aka beings that know everything don’t know what he’s going to do. An argument could be made that this would work to some extent on clockwork. He is literally one of the most powerful mages in the world.
-Possession resistance: He’s resistant to many psychic attacks such as telepathy, soul and body possession, and powerful mind controls. This one has some pretty obvious uses in this crossover.
So, yeah. Constantine has more going on than just consulting about things. He’s extremely powerful, extremely lucky, though that luck doesn’t extend to other around him, a bit of a weirdness magnet that can surprise beings that know everything. He has access to a bunch of magical artifacts, and is exactly the kind of guy who can and would come out winning against the Ghost King. Not even against Danny, he could do it against Paria Dark.
So yeah, have fun with this information
#Danny Phantom#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc#dp x dc prompt#John Constantine#hellblazer#seriously#there is more to utilize with john beyond the soul selling plotline
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Part two of the "Clone Danny" au
The link to the first part is put above!
His friends know that he's phantom, they help him out just the same as before. Due to not having any ghost powers, Danny has to rely on tech and outsmarting the ghosts a lot more than before. He can't keep stealing tech from his parents' lab either, and he can't ask them to fix it if his stuff breaks. He teaches himself how to fix it.
(Its a lot of sleepless nights stealing his parents' blueprints and trying to study them. And a lot of late night research and talking with Tucker on how to build and understand tech. He refuses to rely on Tucker for his gear)
He talks to Sam about fashioning a persona as both Phantom and as Fenton. She's been to a lot of rich parties, she's seen celebrities and how they act. A "careless party boy" won't work for Danny. He's no A-Lister. But coward, feeble Fenton works just fine. Minus his smartass comments, which he can slowly start phasing out of his "civilian" life under the guise of there being ghosts.
He draws into himself, keeps his head down in class, wears baggy clothing. Ghost fighting at night really does a lot of the work for him, since he's so tired in class that he doesn't bother putting his hand up or participating. He can play the part of "loner, loser Fenton" pretty well, and ups the ante.
Phantom already has a small fanbase amongst the A-listers for being the strong, silent confident vigilante-hunter protecting them from the ghosts. Nothing much changes there other than a few minor things. Anyone who knows ASL knows he's a major fucking smart-ass who keeps cracking jokes and puns at the ghosts.
Danny learns self-defense after getting his ass beat too many times (he also gets Really Good at gym because he runs a LOT after ghosts. He eventually learns to make trackers to stick onto them when they fly away) and even gets a few ghosts to help him after he befriends them while they're exploring Amity at night. Its nothing professional and he still gets hurt a lot, but he knows how to throw a better punch than before. And he knows how to dodge better.
Since he's going for a "get them tfo of here before my parents get here" approach, danny takes a more of a "talk first, fight later" route. this... kinda works. mainly for the non-hostile ghosts. its how he manages to get some of them to help him with fighting.
Danny's honestly really, really clever. He largely relies on his wits since he doesn't have any powers to force ghosts back into the ghost zone.
TUE still happens it just occurs a little differently. Vlad Masters still wants Danny to be his son and Maddie his wife, etc. But he also wants to turn Danny into a Halfa like himself, since he knows that Danny has mild ghost abilities, he thinks he has the capacity to turn into a halfa.
Dan happens when Vlad manipulates a grieving danny into agreeing to become a halfa like himself. Except it kills Danny fully, and in his rage, Danny, now dead and a ghost, rips out Vlad's ghost half and merges with it and creates Dan. So not too different from canon.
….actually i change my mind. Danny’s ghost doesn’t merge with Vlad. Danny’s ghost tears Plasmius apart for lying to him. Dan is entirely Danny, just big and hurting and wanting to hurt others because of it. His emotions are big so Dan is big.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 (Dani interlude) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.5 (Dan Interlude) Part 8
#danny phantom#danny phantom au#dp x dc#dpxdc au#dpxdc crossover#danny phantom crossover#danny fenton is a clone#this is so long my bad#i have so much to say on this au lmapo#long haired danny lives in my soul#sam paints his nails#he's just a little GNC#as a treat#im always one for villains being evil just because#but i thought that Dan being wholly Danny. just big and in pain#would be fun#and different
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JYESHTA
The battle, the loneliness and the cost of victory
Mercury ruled, Mars's sign.
A very lonely nakshatra indeed. Jyeshta means "the eldest" and it's also known as "the best". But what does that all mean?
To understand Jyeshta, we have to remember that it's fully in the sign of Scorpio. The previous nakshatra- Anuradha, also fully in Scorpio, is its yoni consort. Scorpio is the natural ruler of the 8th house of death, transformation and the occult. It's shrouded in secrecy, yet Jyeshta nakshatra still manages to be one of the most notorious lunar mansions.
Jyeshta's symbol is a round protective talisman or an umbrella. It's ruling deity is Indra- the lightning god and the king of the gods, who is covered in eyes and thus sees everything. The goddess associated with Jyeshta is Dhumavati- an old hag who's always hungry. Jyeshta natives are known for their success in the material realm, but little do most know that there's a lot more to it than that.
We begin the story of Jyeshta with a somewhat outcasted underdog. They're not that understood, they are independent by nature, and most importantly, they do not trust a soul. Why so defensive, some might ask, but that's the eyes from which Jyeshtas see the world. Despite humble begginings, they're usually not pitied or treated as a victim. Since they do not like asking for help, they rarely get it, and honestly, that's the way they like it.
The underdog enters the world stage, immideately attracting attention because they do not follow anyone else's rules, but rather- their own. They have their uniqueness that protects them. Combat by combat, they defeat each and every one of their opponents and soon are seen as a new threat. With that comes jealousy, with jealousy comes resentment and/or respect. With all that comes fear. Jyeshta's power is "to rise, conquer and gain courage in battle". The battle is life, but what does it mean to rise and conquer? How does one outsmart their opponents? The answer is you simply do not fight them.
When you view someone as an opponent you automatically set yourself up for losing. The opponents are equals but since you're an individual and since you know that you can't trust anyone but yourself, why would you play by their rules? Why would you equate yourself to them? Jyeshtas honor their own uniquness by protecting their energy (mercury rulership, very similar to Ashlesha) and learning their lesson from the previous mercury-ruled nakshatra- Ashlesha, they only engage in a fight with worthy opponents. Jyeshtas know they're only one worthy opponent for them and that's themselves. So, they just work on being better and better, not getting distracted by petty and unimportant squabbles, literally rising above the unnessecary conflict and thus conquering everything they rose above.
But is success all there is to life? Jyeshta is the survivor, always thinking about the next step and enjoying the independence despite being so widely disliked because of their difference, because of their uniqueness and success. Sure, they're content being themselves, but as natural loners they struggle with emotional intelligence, hence their reputation as insensitive jerks for masculine people or rude bitches for feminine people.
A Jyeshta story- The Queen's Gambit
I want to analyze a fictional Jyeshta story that has been brought to life on screen- The Queen's Gambit. The writer of the novel - Walter Tevis had Ketu in Jyeshta nakshatra. Ketu represents your stored primal creative energy, past lives, the past in general, the father's lineage and a person's daemon. A daemon is basically the opposite sex version of you who is the personification of your creative and sexual energy. Walter Tevis wrote about the archetype of a Jyeshta woman, making her the protagonist of his story. Considering that I haven't read the book, I'll analyze the Netflix series that it inspired.
Chess overall is a very Jyeshta game. It's a competitive sport but it requires concentration, intelligence, discipline, talent and skill. If you make one miscalculation, then you're lost.
SPOILERS AHEAD
Our protagonist, Beth Harmon, begins as an 8 year old girl who lost her mother and was taken to an orphanage. There she never looked at elders the same way that others did, having a critical mind and an independence and uniqueness to her that set her apart from others from an early age. She was exceptionally good at maths and unusually so, considering her age. One day, she goes into the basement and finds the custodian_ Mr. Shaibel playing chess with himself. She's immideately drawn to the game and doesn't leave him alone until he explains the rules. Since then, she's hooked.
She eventually leaves the orphanage, getting adopted by a childless couple at 15. She already thinks like an adult and treats her new mother's authority like it's nothing and she's not really challenged in that. Jyeshta is the stage where you're the authority, you're the only one who's responsible for yourself, you're the eldest, the wisest and that energy makes others want to depend on you in one way or another. It's where you find the strength in yourself to make everyone else submit. So, Beth started to earn money by playing chess. It's important to note that her new mother had a drinking problem and despite that, Beth didn't drink herself before she thought she deserved it. Only after achieving some success does she slowly start getting addicted to substances, her addiction increasing as her success grew bigger.
Being the best in the game was not exactly easy for Beth, as she struggled with her love life. Jyeshtas are often not concerned with the emotional aspect of life, despite having a certain sensuality to themselves. They're naturally closed off and because of that many people find them mysterious. They won't hesitate to to attack anyone though, but their every move is calculated and planned.
Beth was bullied at school and that's a common Jyeshta theme (see my The Princess Diaries post) but she never paid any attention to it and later we see the mean girl she was at school with living a completely different life than her- the one that she would not want. The scene perfectly captures the difference between the Jyeshta archetype and the masses. Jyeshta is focused on winning, defeating themselves and by that defeating their opponents so they have little time for anything else. In contrast, her high school classmate was married and with a child, living a typical suburban American life.
In another scene, we see her success and loneliness turn to arrogance and rudeness as she encounters and old opponent, friend and ex-lover who was living a simple life and showed his contentment with that. That shows a more negative and quite a sad side of the Jyeshta archetype.
She hits rock bottom, starts to lose her focus and at the last minute, when she has no money to fly to Moscow for the tournament, a helping hand comes in. We'll get into why she accepts that help.
Her helper was her childhood friend from the orphanage_ Jolene, who was snarky and honest to her from the start. It's very telling that she was Beth's first friend. Jyeshta is a full-circle moment, it's the growing into your own power after you've defeated your past self, after you've managed to move on from past pains. When Beth had had closure with Jolene and after attending Mr. Shaibel's funeral, she goes into the orphanage and enters the basement. She sees how he had all the newspaper pages about Beth taped to the wall. Beth breaks down and cries. After confronting the core part of herself, she accepts help from Jolene because she's already healed that part of herself, so she'll have no unwelcome ties with Jolene, only the one she chose. She's conquered herself from that time and now is free to rule it. The only thing that was left to do was to go out there and be herself, because after you defeat yourself, there's truly no one else to defeat.
She defeats the Soviet champion and and makes peace with all parts of herself. When she's about to leave Moscow Beth gets out of the car and takes a walk, truly enjoying life. With the war with herself behind, she remembered why she's so good at chess, because she truly loves it so much. She enjoyed the competition and the tension, she loved the battle. There was no reason not to, not when she was unafraid of being who she was. After all these combats, she realized that there was only one real enemy-herself, and defeating that enemy requires bravery, the strength to bear the hardship and skill, a lot of skill to survive and all of that based on cunning.
When you realize that, the world is your oyster. It's all a game, and it's your game, you're alone.
She sees a big group of old men playing chess with each other in a park. Beth stops by, and the men, recognizing her, invite her to play. Beth sits down, smiling, knowing they'll both enjoy the game she takes her gloves off and says...
If you liked this PLEASE like, comment or reblog, or even message me. If you have jyeshta or if you know them or if you like The Queen's Gambit, definitely let me know what you think. This was a bit stressful, considering my ketu is in jyeshta and it was not easy to dig into the deepest parts of myself. This series came out while i was going through a ketu antardasha that shook me to the core and it spoke to me so much. Anyways, thanks for reading, love you and take care 🤍.
#ketu in jyeshta nakshatra#vedic astrology#astrology#nakshatras#astrology observations#jyeshta#jyeshta nakshatra#jyestha nakshatra#jyestha#astro notes#sidereal astrology#sidereal zodiac#astrology tumblr
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I hate when I’m reading a good fic, then it’s ruined by a shitty defense of the Robins and the narrative acting like the shitty defense is right.
‘They chose to be Robins!’
They were children; they were not capable of making that choice and should not have been in a position to make it.
‘They needed Robin!’
Nope. A traumatised child (whether that be by the death of their parents or by abuse or homelessness) needs therapy, not to be dressed in brightly coloured spandex and taken to fight criminals.
‘They would have gone out anyways!’
This just makes Batman look like a moron. 8, 10 and 12 year olds are not capable of outsmarting or out fighting Batman. Bruce could have and should have kept them at home. It’s called parenting.
Ugh.
#Bruce Wayne#Batman#Dick Grayson#Jason Todd#Tim Drake#Damian Wayne#Robin#Robins#DC#Batfandom#Batfamily
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❁ཻུ۪۪♡ all eyes on you
Pairing - shuri x black fem!reader
Word Count - 8.6k
Contains - smut (18+), dom!shuri, fingering, cunnilingus, edging, choking/breathplay, overstimulation, voyeurism, dacryphilia (kind of), strap-on, semi-public sex, swearing, kinda mean!shuri, tad bit of angst
Divider From - @firefly-graphics
Sneak Peak - Three and a half weeks had gone by, each second brang an agonizing twist in your stomach as you fought the urge to run back to Shuri. Truthfully, you were surprised you held on this long, you were doing so well. You did a few boxing lessons with a new coach, and she was good enough to get the training done; but everyday you boxed opponents that lived in your head, forcing punches in the ring that surrounded your mind. And it was that day, the day that curiosity got the best of you, emerging victorious in the hidden match that tugged at your brain as you found yourself back where you started
Tags - @inmyheadimobsessed @amplifiedmoan @vampzxi @abenomeiiii @heejayy @shurismainbxtch @shurislover @shuriszn @naomis-daydream @prettymrswright @pocketsizedpanther @gardenof-venus @vys-intentions @tiii-iiiiii @venusdusse @verachii @thelibravenus @ihearttish @playhousedistee @somethingcleaverandwhitty @niyahwrites @prettymrswright @tishsrealwife (comment if you wanna be tagged in future fics, 18+ please)
Writers Note: in honour of Tish announcing that’s she’s gonna be playing a boxer, here’s some good shit for y’all!! Love youuusss. Hope you enjoy!
❁ཻུ۪۪♡ As the bell rings, Shuri immediately takes a defensive stance, guarding her face with her gloves. Her opponent comes at her with a flurry of punches, but Shuri is too quick for her. She ducks and weaves, slipping punches with ease. In a sudden move, Shuri lands a powerful left hook that sends her opponent reeling. The crowd erupts in applause as Shuri continues to dominate the fight. Her movements are fluid and graceful, yet powerful and precise. She is in complete control of the ring, and her opponent is no match for her. The crowd surrounding you roared as Shuri blew unstoppable punches, knocking her opponent out as she reveled in the sound of her boxing name falling off hundreds of tongues.
“Panther! Panther! Panther!”
She was a skilled fighter, with lightning-fast reflexes that always knew how to bring life to the crowd. Shuri was also a strategic thinker, always looking for ways to outsmart her opponents and stay ahead of the game. You were one of the few people who got lucky enough to have her as a boxing coach, and this was the first time she invited you to come to one of her matches. The sight of her was addicting. The way she basked in the praise being given to her as the sweat poured off her inked body, it made your feelings for her magnify in ways you hadn’t planned for tonight. Seeing her as an active participant in the ring opened your mind to new possibilities. The way her skin hugged every muscular contour, the way her sweat shimmered against her dark skin, the way she smirked in her victory as blood poured down her face, spitting it out as she continued to linger in her praise; your mind wandered to fantasies you shouldn’t be having. Her physique was lean and muscular, her arms toned, and her core was defined to perfection; all a result from years of rigorous training and conditioning. You couldn’t help but get lost in her build and the way her sweat gleamed against it, she was annoyingly attractive and it didn’t help that she was an obvious flirt and damn good at it.
“Panther! Panther! Panther!”
The crowd continued to chant for Shuri and you joined in their celebration by smiling uncontrollably as she winked at you from the ring. Her mouthguard came to play, gripping them through her pearly teeth and the sight alone almost made you crumble. Shuri was becoming bigger, more known in the boxing world. She was climbing her way up, and although you were undeniably happy for her, it was not your desire to be dragged into the spotlight because of her fame. Yes, you were grateful for this opportunity to have her as your boxing coach, but you were a simple girl. You loved boxing as a form of exercise, expression, and movement; Shuri loved boxing for all these reasons too, but to see her bask in the praise being given to her, you knew she loved it all. It wasn’t a bad thing, it just wasn’t your thing.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Hmm?”
“The match, baby…did you enjoy it? It wasn’t too much? The lights, the loud crowd…the blood? You’re ok?”
You hesitated, uncertain about how to respond to her question because, truth be told, you found yourself relishing it more than you should have.
“Yeah, I enjoyed it.”
Shuri smiled, her gaze focused on the road ahead as she drove you home.
“You sure? I didn’t see you yelling my name like the rest of the crowd,” she playfully teases, a crooked smile painting her face that tickled your stomach.
“I was just basking it all in, is all. You did amazing out there, Shuri. Like insanely good.”
Shuri smiled once more, clearly flattered by your words.
The rest of the ride home was filled with nothing new. Shuri used her eyes and nonverbal cues, skillfully enticing you with a seductive allure that permeated her every word and gesture. It was clear that she was well aware of her effect on you, and her strategies were undeniably effective.
She pulled up to your condo, putting the car in park as she turned her body to face you. Her face was perfect, even after the cuts and bruises that stained her facial facade, her lips swollen from taking blows, her beauty remained untouched. And when that radiant smile graced her face, it sent your heart racing in an instant.
“You coming to practice on Thursday?”
“I’ll be there.”
You weren’t sure if you were going to be there.
“Good. Just making sure this match didn’t scare you away from boxing.”
A fleeting silence hung in the air, your mind filled with a whirlwind of overwhelming thoughts you had no desire to hold in anymore and it was written all over your face.
“Why do you train me alone? Away from all your other students…why do I get trained alone?,” you abruptly ask, immediately shifting the tone that’s been set.
Shuri’s face is covered in confusion. “Y/n, I already told you. I see a certain potential in you I don’t see in others. You have skill…real skill that deserves extra attention. Didn’t I already tell you this?”
“Yeah, I guess you did.”
Shuri's index finger glides across your face, tracing a gentle path against your skin while you reluctantly succumb to her touch. She possessed a profound understanding of how to provoke a reaction from you, both inside and outside of your boxing sessions.
“I also think the prettiest girls deserve more attention,” she adds, her voice flowing with a seamless alluring quality. You let out a pitiful smile, one that leads Shuri to believe she can push the boundaries even further. “We can take it to your room, pretty. What do you say?”
She was unbelievably enticing, almost impossible to deny because you almost straddled her at that very moment and shoved your tongue down her throat. Your pussy throbbed at her words, her gentle touch made you leak. You discreetly squeezed your thighs together, silently hoping that she wouldn't notice the desperate act, but she did.
“What’s wrong?,” she laughed. “I can be gentle if you need me to.”
You swear you almost let out a moan right there, but you swallowed it, refusing to give her the satisfaction of the power she most definitely had over you. You permitted yourself to savor the delicate caress of her touch for a brief while before opting to stand your ground.
“I’ll see you on Thursday, Shuri.”
She smiled, kindly pulling herself back into driving position before starting her car. “I’ll see you on Thursday, y/n.”
After reciprocating her smile, you departed from her vehicle, carrying an intense turmoil deep within your gut. The sensation of unease brought forward a sense of guilt, because you wanted to explain to Shuri that you needed a new coach for the sake of your own well-being. Your need to stay focused barely outweighed the fact that Shuri was an extraordinary trainer, surpassing your wildest expectations that you’ll forever be grateful for; but she also served as a captivating distraction and this realization solidified your decision to part ways.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Shuri walked around you, analyzing your stance and body position as you threw blows to the punching bag. She spoke in a calm, authoritative voice, guiding you through each movement. The sound of your gloves hitting the punching bag echoed through the empty gym, as Shuri encourages you to hit faster and harder. You’re sweating, and Shuri’s slight menacing stare was starting to make you nervous. This mentorship was normal, but after her touch from a couple nights ago, her gaze was making you tense, resulting in you being unable to perform to the best of your abilities. Shuri noticed this.
“Keep your guard up, y/n,” Shuri instructs. “And keep your feet moving. You’re doing so well, don’t forget what I taught you.”
You nod, trying to comply with her instructions, but your body becomes enticed by the way she looms over you. You could swear her eyes began to wander to places they shouldn't be, causing your breath to catch in your chest. You throw in some more punches, eager to impress Shuri.
“Again,” Shuri demands, her voice stern. “Put some more power in it this time.”
With a deep inhale, you gather yourself before proceeding to unleash your punches, envisioning counterattacks being thrown in response. Your body moves with fluidity, effortlessly positioning itself to facilitate powerful arm movements. As you throw your punches, your box braids gracefully sway in sync with the rhythm of your body. The sweat trickled down your face as you grew confident in your quick reflexes and the proud smile that drew across Shuri’s face, but that confidence quickly diminished as you felt rough hands clutch your hips. Shuri positioned you, pressing her chest against your back and you almost went limp.
“You’re so close, baby, just position yourself a little more like this, yeah?” She exerted firm pressure on your hips, forcefully maneuvering your body to adhere to her commands. Her hand started a deliberate descent down your body, burying her face into your neck while your chest rose and fell with each labored breath. Her touch pressed firmly against the sensitive area just before your pussy, causing your breathing to intensify even further, your knees unintentionally buckling up. “Just relax, y/n. Wanna know how to throw the perfect punch? You have to relax your body.”
“Shuri,” you lightly moan, and you feel her smirk against the skin on your neck. She lets you go, granting you the necessary space you need to proceed. A sense of embarrassment washes over you as you realize she was testing you, assessing to see how easy it would be to get you to comply to her and you were no challenge at all.
“You keep practicing your positioning, I’m gonna go take a quick shower, ok? I’ll be in the locker room if you need anything. Keep it moving, I wanna see you perfect this by the time I’m out.”
You nod.
The gym goes quiet, with nothing but the sound of your fists hitting the vinyl material in front of you. You knew today had to be the day; the day you would admit to Shuri that you needed to find a new coach for your own betterment. You would tell her that you appreciated her hard work and all the dedication she put into making you a better boxer, but then admit that you had to find someone new. Someone that would teach you the work without giving you the distraction.
After what seemed like 15 minutes, Shuri appeared from the locker room. She was wearing baggy shorts that extended slightly above her knees, revealing glimpses of her Nike boxers peeking out from the waistband. Her matching Nike sports bra accentuated her well-defined physique, showcasing her sturdy arms. Intricate ink covered her skin, with tattoos adorning both arms, extending upwards toward her neck. Additionally, symmetric tattoos trailed both sides of her torso, mirroring each other in captivating patterns. A white towel was draped casually around her neck and shoulders, while her flawless curls glistened with dampness from the shower water and you could not ignore how mouth-watering good she looked. Oh, how you just wanted to…
“Y/n? You down?,” she repeated, her voice abruptly interrupting thoughts that had no business taking up space in your already stressed mind.
“Hmm?”
She chuckled. “I was asking if you wanted to come to my next match. You know…since you enjoyed the first one so much,” she asked with a flirt. Of course you wanted to go to her next match; cheer her on as you relished in her attractiveness, how good she looked in the ring as she basked in the crowd's praise. But you knew better. Going to see her a second time would only make it harder for you to stand firm in your decision.
“Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about something.”
“Yeah? What was that?”
You inhaled deeply, bracing yourself as the words hesitated to escape your lips.
“So…I was thinking…”
Shuri raised an eyebrow. “What were you thinking?”
“I was thinkingggg…”
“Fuck y/n, just spill it out.”
You sighed, frightened of the response she would give you. “I think I need a new boxing coach…”
“What?” Her face went stiff, confusion written all over it and rightfully so. You lightly tossed your gloves to the side, massaging your sore knuckles as you made your way towards her.
“Look Shuri…you’ve been a great coach. It’s obviously a once in a lifetime opportunity to train with someone as gifted as you but…”
“But?”
You pondered, questioning yourself on how you should proceed to complete your sentence; whether you should tell her the complete truth or give her a fragment of what needed to be said. You settled for the safer option.
“I just don’t want to get in the way of your career…you got a lot going on for you, I wouldn’t wanna slow your ass down.”
She momentarily paused, tugging on the ends of the towel that wrapped around her shoulder. She tilted her head back lightly, a playful grin emerged on her face as she chuckled softly.
“So what’s the real reason, y/n?,” she laughed.
“I’m not playing Shuri.”
“I’m not playing with your ass either, y/n.”
“Shuri, let’s be for real for a second. Your name is climbing up there. I’m not tryna get sucked into all that. I need a new coach, that’s it. Now stop being nosey and hop off my ass.”
A profound silence permeated the gym, enveloping the space as Shuri stood still, deep in contemplation of the words you had spoken. You remained motionless, unable to do anything but wait anxiously for her response, feeling light-headed in your anticipation
“Anyway, your dramatic ass can hop in the shower. I’ll be here when you’re done.”
“Shuri—“
She plopped her earphones in, purposely making a statement that she did not want to hear you any longer. You rolled your eyes, defeated by her arrogance and her inability to understand your dilemma and you let yourself be defeated, for now, because Shuri did not train a quitter.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
You indulged in a refreshing, cool shower, allowing the water to soothe you weary body, intentionally prolonging your stay to avoid Shuri and her antics. You didn’t want to hear from her anymore.
You stepped out of the shower, efficiently drying yourself off as you lathered your brown skin in your favorite body lotion. You slipped on a pair of black leggings, one that accentuated your toned ass and you couldn’t help but appreciate yourself in the mirror before putting on your gray hoodie. You gathered your things, preparing to give Shuri your final words of gratitude but Shuri, however, had a different agenda in store.
“Oh shit…you scared me,” you say, startled by her presence you didn’t expect to see so soon.
She was leaning her body against the red lockers that encircled the room, her hair still slightly damp from her earlier shower. You swallowed harshly at the sight, almost intimidated by her demeanour that seemed to surpass any power she had over you, even as your coach. She gracefully lifted herself off the lockers with a push of her upper body, making her way towards you; the sight causing a flutter of unease to stir in your stomach.
“Shuri, please…I’m not play-”
“Sshhhh,” she whispered, her body wavered over yours. She was fairly taller than you were, and her assertive presence only added to her height, making it seem like she towered over you. In a gentle, almost affectionate manner, she pushed your body against the wall, causing you to drop your bag to the floor in surprise. Her unexpected action caught you off guard, yet she effortlessly made it feel as if this was a familiar part of your routine, weaving seamlessly into the fabric of your interactions. Her eyes remained on yours, making sure you were okay with this, hungry for it as much as she was.
“You’re scared of me, aren’t you?,” her voice was modulated, a pleasant sound that began to pierce through your skin. You said nothing, unable to bring words together to form a rational sentence. “You’re scared of the way I make you feel.”
“Shuri…”
“Ssshhh, baby. Just…please.” She inhaled deeply, practicing self-control as your eyes provoked her. Her lips lingered right above yours and you took no time to close the gap, catching you both off guard as your lips collided. She effortlessly complied, her hands gripping your hips as she started to place slow, deliberate kisses along your neck. Overwhelmed by the sensation, you instinctively grasped her curls, guiding her to that exquisite sweet spot that elicited a moan from deep within you; an unexpected sound that flushed you with a mix of arousal and embarrassment.
“Do that again.”
“Mmm.”
“Yeah…yeah I like that.” Her palm begins to trace down your torso, her lips still plunging kisses into your neck. She paused just above your pussy, making your grasp on her curls tighten. She took her lips off your neck, coming back to face eyes that drowned in a pathetic sense of desperation. You were frantic, needy for her touch and Shuri grew smug at the sight of you.
“May I?”
You nodded so quickly, ashamed of how easy and open you were for her. Shuri smirked, proud of the hold she had on you. She slipped her fingers under your leggings, coming head on with the mess she created in between your thighs. You unintentionally bucked your hips forward in dire need, causing her fingers to graze your clit over the material of your panties and you gasped at the feel of it. Once again, Shuri smiled and did not hesitate to begin playing with your agonized, wet cunt.
“Oh my god Shuri.”
She ignored you, slipping her fingers up and down your slit, your clit nerves pounding underneath her mocking touch. Your knees weakened, struggling to maintain your balance as her gentle touch rendered your body delicate and vulnerable. The pleasure coursing through you compelled your face to surrender, submitting to the waves of ecstasy coursing through your pussy. Shuri teased your hole, slipping the tip of two fingers inside, making sure you were ok to proceed and you nodded hectically. She dipped her fingers into you, her eyebrows creased together at the feel of your fleshy walls. You were snug, your pussy promptly clenched around her, aching to keep her in there.
“Damn, y/n. You’re tight, huh?”
“Mmm, yeah.”
“How does that feel, baby?”
As you parted your lips to respond, an involuntary, feeble moan slipped from your throat before any words could form. Tears welled up in your eyes as she intensified her movements, causing your lashes to glisten with the arousal emanating from the fiery friction between your thighs. Shuri's dissatisfaction was evident; she wanted to hear you, hear it come from your mouth on how good she felt inside you. She gently grabbed your throat, applying just enough pressure that compelled you to surrender completely.
“It feels good, Shuri. I…fuck.”
She curled her fingers, angling them perfectly to hit the spot you needed most.
“Right there?”
“Yeah.”
She thrashed into your delicate spot a few more times before removing her fingers completely, cleaning your pleasure off her fingers with the swish of her tongue. You whimpered in a pitiful manner, your eyes producing tears for how much you needed her.
“Why’d you stop?,” you pouted.
Shuri rolled her eyes. “You’re annoying.”
“But..please…please Shuri.”
Once again, she seized hold of your throat, drawing your face nearer to hers as fervent moan escaped your lips.
“Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”
You shut your eyes, completely under her control as she watched the way you yearned for her.
“I don’t want you with anyone else.”
She let go of her grasp on your throat, bringing you back onto the wall behind you. Shuri dropped to her knees, removing your leggings and panties completely and you winced at the cool air that grazed your exposed lower body. Shuri lifted one of your legs over her shoulder, leaving you open to her devour, and you were incapable of doing anything in the matter. She wasted no time, taking your sensitive clit into her mouth forcing you to groan in pleasure.
“Yeah, right there. Just right there. Don’t stop.”
She felt euphoric, the way her tongue swirled around you made your heap of nerves pulsate heavily, sending waves of pleasure throughout your pussy.
“I’m so close, Shuri. Fuck. YEAH.”
She removed her tongue, coming back up to face you as she proceeded to push her fingers into you. She pumped hard, leaving no room to take it easy on you. You mirror her movements, riding her as you feel that warm, tingling feeling coursing through your pussy walls.
“You wanna cum, baby?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhmm.”
“Well don’t.”
You moaned pitifully, holding your orgasm as Shuri dragged her fingers in and out of you. Every push became more painful as you struggled to delay your release. It was a mixture of torment and thrill as she edged your throbbing pussy. She could tell you could not take it anymore, your orgasm was just above her reach and she pulled out immediately, giving you nothing but a wave of suffering. You whined pitifully, your aching cunt screaming at you in desperation as you watched Shuri lick whatever pleasure you gave her. The ghost of your halted orgasm lingered inside you, creating the most vivid concoction of pain and pleasure.
“It hurts,” you whined, tears staining your saddened face.
“I know baby, I know.” She brushed your box braids that fell down your face, wiping your tears as she smirked at the picture she created. “I just wanna make sure you come back to me.”
You pouted in urgent need of her. You didn’t want to wait. You wanted her now. You almost wanted to finger your own pussy to ease your pain, but you knew she wouldn’t allow it.
She possessed a well-crafted strategy, one that proved to be remarkably effective. She planted a final kiss on your forehead, releasing you from her grip as she helped you put your clothes back on and gather your things. She offered you a ride home, but you decided that it would be better for your sanity to take an uber. She didn’t argue with you, allowing you this time to yourself as you contemplated your decision to leave her. You remembered her words, and the possessiveness of her touch; it was overwhelming as she made it much more complicated to stand your ground.
“See you tomorrow?,” she asked, her eyes laced in desperate arousal.
You nodded. “Yeah…I’ll see you.”
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Three and a half weeks had gone by, each second brang an agonizing twist in your stomach as you fought the urge to run back to Shuri. Truthfully, you were surprised you held on this long, you were doing so well. You did a few boxing lessons with a new coach, and she was good enough to get the training done; but everyday you boxed opponents that lived in your head, forcing punches in the ring that surrounded your mind. And it was that day, the day that curiosity got the best of you, emerging victorious in the hidden match that tugged at your brain as you found yourself back where you started.
Outside the gym, you lingered discreetly, observing her in silent contemplation as she vented her frustrations on the punching bag. The reluctance to reenter the premises after your abrupt departure weighed heavily on your conscience, evoking a wave of guilt that got stuck in your throat, making it hard for you to swallow. Shuri persistently unleashed blows upon the bag, oblivious to your watchful gaze through the gym windows. She was wearing a black hoodie, the hood partially resting on her head as her curls peered through. Her baggy sweats and gold chain added to her allure, making it even harder to face her because you were afraid to give into how incredibly good she looked. Her face remained stern, fully absorbed in channeling her anger with every forceful swing. The rhythmic motion caused her gold chain to sway in sync, while her curls glistened with moisture from the perspiration cascading down her forehead. Inhaling deeply, you steeled yourself, readying your mind and body for whatever lay ahead. You tapped on the window, hoping it was loud enough to get her attention in the midst of her obvious frustration. She cast a discerning glance in your direction, punctuating her punches with a few final strikes before walking towards the locked door. As she swung it open, her figure occupied the threshold, leaving no space for you to enter.
“Can I help you?” Her anger was transparent, her tone dripping with passive-aggressiveness, and you acknowledged that she had every reason to feel that way.
“I just came by to say hi.”
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Is that it?”
“Yeah.”
“Ok cool, bye.” She made an abrupt motion, attempting to slam the door in your face, but your well-honed reflexes, that she taught you, came into play as you swiftly intervened, preventing the door from closing.
“Wait Shuri…please. Can I come in?”
Shuri sighed heavily, rolling her eyes as she obliged to your request.
She resumed her single boxing session, throwing blows you knew would knock someone out had it been a person instead of a punching bag. You stood uncomfortably on the sidelines, waiting for the right moment to interject and provide her with the explanation you believed she deserved. She persisted in her actions for a few more moments until a rush of calm began to wash over her body. Gradually, the frustration etched on her face began to dissipate, not entirely, but enough to instill a surge of confidence within you that she would be willing to hear what you had to say. She took off her gloves, manspreading on the chair as she unwrapped the bloody cloth that hugged her knuckles.
“Shuri?’
“Hm?”
“I need…fuck. I got to talk to you.”
“There isn’t much to say, y/n. You made your point pretty clear.”
“Actually, I didn’t say enough.”
“Y/n please. I heard you. I heard you loud and clear. You don’t wanna see me and I don’t wanna see you. That’s all I need to know.”
“It wasn’t that simple, Shuri,” you defend yourself.
“You literally just left with no explanation. It’s pretty simple.”
“Well I’m here now, aren’t I??”
“I don’t care. You can go back from wherever the hell you came from.”
“Shuri-”
“What??”
You let out a heavy sigh, creeping your body closer to hers. A mere couple of feet separated you, and you found yourself absorbing her dark gaze as she waited for you to speak. Sweat trickled down her furrowed brows, her face covered in a hostile glare as her jaw clenched in impatience. She was upset. Angry. Hurt that you would leave so abruptly after she worked diligently to make you the skilled boxer you were today.
“I’ve been seeing a new coach. She’s great. Helping me out and shit--”
“Go fuck her then.”
“What? Fuck, let me finish my sentence. You’re being fucking dramatic as hell.”
“Nah, you know what’s dramatic? Fucking crying while being fingered. I didn’t even give you dick.”
Her words caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily disoriented and struggling to recall what you had to say. Shuri thrived on being in control, whether it was in physical confrontations or verbal debates. She possessed an unwavering determination to emerge as the victor, using her skills to secure her position. But this time, you felt she wasn’t playing fair; she had no interest in hearing what you had to say.
“You gonna let me fucking talk now or what?,” you asked abruptly in an attempt to gain control of the argument. Shuri rolled her eyes, tired of hearing you speak but knew you weren’t going anywhere until she let you.
“What I was trying to say, before you rudely cut me off, is I was seeing this trainer and she’s real good and all, she’s been really helpful and shit…but…”
“But…?”
You exhaled deeply, expressing both frustration and weariness as you moved your body towards her. You stood in between her manspread legs, tenderly tracing the contours of her chiseled face which bore faint bruises from her recent boxing match. She lightly winced once your gentle touch came into contact with a fresh bruise that marked her left cheek.
“What happened here? This wasn’t here the last time I saw you.”
“I’m a boxer y/n…shit happens.”
You crouched down to meet her eye level, coming face to face with a defeated Shuri. She looked exhausted, the complete opposite from her usual champion state.
“Listen Shuri. I’m back here because I realized I fucked up, and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
She leaned into your touch, placing her tender cheek into your palm and you swear you could exhale in relief at the gesture.
“If I’m being completely honest, I was so scared you were going to get caught up in the thrill of it all and forget me,” you stupidly admit. “And I know how stupid that sounds, but I can’t help that that’s how I was feeling. It’s ridiculous, I know. I’m sorry.”
Shuri took your hands, holding them in her own as she placed kisses on your knuckles. A subtle smile appeared on her face right before you playfully tugged one of her curls just to watch it spring back up. You both softly laughed at the gesture, relieving the palpable tension that invaded the room. This was the most gentle you’ve ever seen her, the complete opposite of the tenacious facade she wears in the boxing ring. At last, her lips met yours, momentarily tricking you into believing it was her way of granting forgiveness, only to shatter that illusion with 7 simple words.
“Show me how sorry you are, yeah?”
You nodded, brought back into your compliant state as Shuri’s body language brought back her need for dominance. Rising to her feet, her sculpted physique loomed over you as she proceeded towards the central boxing ring in the gym. You trailed after her like a trainee would, captivated by the prospect of what lesson your coach had in store for you.
"Step into the ring," she commanded, gesturing with a nod of her head. Without hesitation, you complied, entering the boxing ring effortlessly.
“Shuri, what’s happen--”
“Shut up. Take off your clothes. I wanna see you.”
Caught off guard, you cautiously heeded her words, sensing her fervor and determination to finish what she started 3 and a half weeks ago, and there was nothing but an equal eagerness burning inside you. You did as she said, subtly cringing at the cool air as you were left in nothing but your pale blue undergarments. Shuri rested herself against the edge of the ring, her arms crossed on the ledge as she eyed your body. You grew embarrassed as you noticed her wandering eyes come to a halt at the damp spot that developed between your thighs, staining your brand new pair of panties you had just bought.
“I didn’t even touch you, baby,” she teased and you could feel the warmth rise to your face. “Sit down y/n, get comfortable. Spread your legs, I wanna see everything.”
Again, you listen to her without hesitation. You sat down, opening up your legs for her to see. You pulled the fabric to the side, exposing your soaking pussy to her greedy gaze.
“Yeah. You’re gonna have to take those off.”
You do.
“Play with yourself.”
“What? But I want you to do it,” you sulked.
“Hey, who’s the coach here? Me or you?”
“You.”
“Then I don’t wanna hear it. Do as I say, and play with yourself. Show me how fucking sorry you are.”
You nodded, wanting to get this over with so she could get in the ring with you and finish you off herself. You took your fingers, wetting them with your saliva before you began rubbing your clit. You pushed with a subtle aggression into your bundle of nerves, causing your jaw to drop as you bashfully moaned Shuri’s name.
“Shuri.”
A malignant smile appeared on her face, your moans boosting her ego as she dwelled in the effect she had on your body without having to lay a finger on you. The lustful yearning in her eyes grew stronger, as you began thrusting your fingers into your soaking hole. You felt the way your walls expanded, contracting your pussy walls with each reckless plunge.
“Oh my god, Shuri. Yes, Shuri. Just like that. UNH.”
“Damn, it’s really like that? I’m not even touching you.”
You looked down at yourself, entranced with the sight of how your pussy swallowed your fingers with ease. Shuri’s touch remained absent from your body, but your vivid imagination painted pictures you yearned for; pictures of tattooed digits sucked deep into your creamy pussy.
“It should be me watching you in the ring more often. You up for that?”
“Shuri,” you moaned once more, becoming less and less embarrassed with how smoothly her name fell off your immoral lips.
“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?,” she provokes, arrogance plastered on her face without shame.
“I’m…I’m so close. So fucking close.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Ok, hold on.”
“Huh?”
Shuri entered the ring, gracefully slipping under the flexible rope. She rolled the sleeves of her black hoodie up to her elbows, exposing her tattooed forearms and you almost moaned at the sight. She sat beside you, looking you dead in the eye as you continued to frolic with your aching pussy. You were on the verge of climax, so close to experiencing release, when Shuri abruptly seized your wrist, preventing you from finishing yourself off. A mixture of anguish and longing escaped your lips as Shuri once again denied you the pleasure you craved.
“Why do you keep doing that?,” you cried. You looked pathetic and Shuri reveled in the sight of you.
Shuri remained silent, opting instead to lie down on her back, lifting her hoodie to expose her impeccably sculpted abs and the hint of her Nike boxers that peeked out from her gray sweatpants. The tattoos that trailed down both sides of her torso created a pulse you felt in your cunt as you admired how etched she was.
“Sit…right here,” she ordered, patting her abs to motion you over. You obeyed, straddling her as you felt your bare pussy come in contact with her body. She grabbed your hips, pressing you harshly into her abs as she maneuvered your body to grind against her. Her defined torso grazed your puffy clit and you moaned instantly.
“Aw baby,” she taunts, pressing you down again. “Are we that needy?”
The feeling of her was euphoric, transcending any touch you’ve ever been given. You surrendered to her touch, reveling in the sensation as she pressed against you, utilizing the strength of her abdominal muscles to apply more pressure. Your clit rubs aggressively against her, sparking a fire of pleasure into the nerves that surround it. Your pussy muscles tightened at the way she felt and your body almost gave out.
“Shuri, holy fuck. This feels so good. This feels--shit Shuri. Unh. UNH.”
Your body started to lose its precision, your limbs growing numb as every physical sensation your body had to offer was pushed into your throbbing clit.
“I can’t. I can’t.”
“You can. And you fucking will.” She pushes you harder onto her, flexing her abs to increase the pressure and you could do nothing but accept that she wasn’t letting you go; not from the ring, nor from her grip, and certainly not as her favorite protégé. Your slick glistened, creating a glossy sheen on her dark skin, coating her abs as you moaned in desperation.
“Fuck…fuck Shuri. Fuck, I can’t.”
“Yes you fucking can, I didn’t train you to be a quitter, did I?”
“Unh. Mmmm. Fuck.”
She contracted her abs once more, generating a tantalizing sensation that penetrated deeply into your clit, blending pain and pleasure.
“Did I?,” she repeats.
“N--no.”
“Then shut the fuck up and stop complaining, baby.”
You lowered your upper body to grab Shuri’s throat, using her neck as a support, swiftly seizing control of the situation and catching Shuri completely off guard. Determined to dominate, you intensified the grinding motion against her, urging yourself further into her. As Shuri withdrew her hands from your hips, you continued to rock with an increased intensity; the sight of Shuri struggling with your hands gripping her throat ignited a wild frenzy into your senses.
“Shit y/n. Damn…shit.” Her breaths became staggered as she grabbed your wrists in hopes to remove herself from your tight grasp, but you didn’t budge.
“You’re crazy.” A smirk crept onto your lips as you observed her struggle for something as basic as oxygen. Your pussy clenched, overwhelmed at the sight of her.
“Shit Shuri, I’m so close..I--”
But she overpowered you, swiftly separating you from her body, and a sigh of defeat escaped your lips once again. Shuri proved to be cunning, toying with you as a form of punishment for your abrupt departure without a single word.
“Stop doing that shit, it hurts,” you complained. Shuri stood up, watching the tears fall from your eyes from both the pleasure and pain of your denied orgasm. She reached down to grab your throat, lifting you from the ground to meet her tall stance.
“You complain too fucking much.”
“Mm,” you moaned, grabbing her wrist as she lifted you a little more. You were on your tippy toes, gasping for air as she tightened her grasp around your windpipe.
“Don’t fight it, baby. Just let it happen.”
She took 2 digits, wetting them with your juices before slipping them inside you. She held her hand still as you began to grind down as your body's response to a lack of oxygen.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” You couldn't respond as your lungs were fighting to catch a glimpse of air. Truth be told, you were enjoying every second of it.
“I know you do. Your pussy shows it.” With each subtle squeeze, your cunt clenched in response, hugging her fingers that remained deep into you.
“Just a little more,” she whispered, tightening her grip as you squirmed beneath her. Even on your tippy toes, she was slightly taller than you were. You opened your mouth wider in an attempt to gain oxygen but instead a strangled sob came from the back of your throat as you could do nothing but choke for the woman in front of you. Drool fell off your tongue as you began to suffer beneath her tight grasp, and Shuri chuckled in amusement, reveling in the sight of your distress. “You look fucking sexy when you struggle.”
She maintained her hold for a few more moments until she felt you couldn’t take it any longer, letting you go as you collapsed into her arms. Your breathing was labored as you tenderly massaged your throat. Shuri held you close, planting gentle kisses on top of your head while tenderly running her fingers through your box braids. But the act of softness diminished quickly as she tugged on your braids, forcing your eyes back onto hers.
“You still wanna cum, baby?”
More than you ever wanted anything in your life.
You helplessly nodded, willing to do anything to soothe the pleasure that was locked in between your legs.
“You’re really fucking needy.”
“Shuri please,” you begged.
“It’s ok baby, I'm right here. Here, rest against these,” she softly demanded, holding onto the red rope that surrounded the ring. She sat in front of you, unclipping your bra to leave you completely bare for her satisfaction. She wasted no time opening your wet folds, playing with your glistening slit and it’s clearly driving you insane. You were crying, desperately begging for her to finish you off. She avoided your clit, wanting to watch you writhe beneath her touch and a pitiful groan escaped your lips as she inched closer to where you needed her most.
“Aw, poor angel. You need me to take care of you so badly.” Her words were torture, her touch even more so. She took the tips of her index and middle fingers, swirling them just enough inside your hole to drive you into madness. She was so close, yet frustratingly distant from where you yearned for her to be. She brushed aside the braids that obscured your face, perspiration clinging to your skin. Deliberately, she probed deeper with her fingers, eagerly anticipating the reaction your body would offer. You arched against the unsteady rope, utilizing it as leverage while gripping onto the material tightly, your knuckles losing color as you gripped aggressively. Your legs opened wider for the woman in front of you, and she took this as a signal to use you for her consumption. Her forceful strokes were merciless, each thrust in and out compelling you to clench even tighter around her. The desire to keep her inside, to retain her presence until you unleashed your release upon her, consumed you.
“Holy shit, holy fuck Shuri. That feels fucking amazing. You’re doing so--shit.” You began thrusting your hips to match her tempo, allowing her fingers to fall deep into you.
“Pushing against my fingers already?,” she teased. She grabbed your throat once more, bringing your ear to her sultry lips. “That’s fucking pathetic.”
You clasped both your hands around her wrist as a means for stability, driving your hips toward her with aggression; your back falling into the red rope, etching into your sensitive skin.
“You look good like this…my hand around your throat.”
“Unh.”
“Yeah, baby?”
“UNH.”
“Damn, you’re really enjoying this, huh?”
“Mmm, fuuuuck.”
The squelch of your drenched cunt echoed through the gym as you consumed every shove Shuri knocked into you. You felt your release approaching, characterized by rhythmic muscle contractions overtaking your twitching body. Your pussy walls pulsate against her and Shuri could feel you.
“You still sorry, y/n?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought.”
She let go of your throat, bringing her hand down your body until she came in contact with your clit. She rubbed you just enough to send your nerves into a frenzy as her other hand continued fingering your pussy walls. You were approaching your limit, unable to bear it any longer. Every sensation surging through your entire being provoked you to the brink of exhaustion and you absolutely needed to cum.
“Shuri?”
“Yes, baby?”
“I gotta..fuck. UNH. I need to cum, please.”
“No.”
“But…it feels so good, too fucking good, oh my goodd.”
“I don’t care how good it feels. You’re not cumming.”
The sensation of your denied pleasure created waves of desire swimming through your veins. Your body began to respond by producing more slick, oozing intensely onto Shuri’s wrist. The blood flow in your pussy increased, heightening the sensitivity in your clit that Shuri was rubbing vigorously. There were numerous reasons Shuri was edging you to insanity; of course she wanted to enhance your impending orgasm but she also wanted to remind you who was in charge, remind you of the power dynamic that always has and always will be between the two of you.
“You wanna cum, y/n?”
“YES.”
“Are you sorry for leaving me?”
“Yeah, oh my god!”
“You gonna stay with me, baby?”
“Mhmmm, yeah. YEAH.”
“That’s cute.”
“Shuri…fuck. PLEASE.”
She pumped a few more times.
“You gonna come to my match next week, princess?”
“Yeah…I’ll come to your fucking match Shuri. SHIT. UNH.”
“That’s what I fucking thought.”
She shoved her fingers into a few more times, bringing her free hand back up to your throat. You whimpered and cried for her, you have never felt a need so heavy in your entire life.
“You did so well for me, y/n. You can cum now, my girl. Let it ou--”
“UNH, FUCK. UNNHHH YEAH. FUCK SHURI, FUCK. YES.”
You cried out in ecstasy, lingering in every throb that your pussy gave you. The pleasure was excruciating, forcing your body to shake uncontrollably against the rope behind you. Your nerves around your clit intensely tingled through your orgasm, only adding to the warm sensation coursing between your legs.
“Oh my god Shuri, holy fuck. YEAH.”
Every orgasm Shuri denied you came back tenfold and you felt it everywhere; a powerful, wave-like sensation that started in your beating cunt and radiated outwards to the rest of your body. Your release was explosive, spraying Shuri as you wiggled and writhed in front of her. Your heart rate increased as you moaned in your well-deserved satisfaction. Shuri praised your body with kisses, allowing you this moment of pure bliss she knew you worked hard for.
“You’re so fucking wet baby, give it all to me.”
“Shuri? Fuck.”
“You still cumming, baby?”
“Yeah…it won’t stop. It’s not stopping.”
“Just feel it, princess. Let it all happen. You deserve it.”
“Mmh, UNH.”
After what felt like an eternity, your body gradually eased back into a state of calm, reconnecting with your surroundings. You went limp, collapsing into Shuri's comforting embrace as she tenderly caressed your brown skin.
“You’re incredible, y/n.”
You nodded, teetering on the edge of sleep in her tender embrace. Sensing your exhaustion, Shuri assisted you in getting dressed again. She gathered your box braids and secured them in a ponytail, giving your face the rest it needed after what she put you through.
“You’re so beautiful, y/n, have I ever told you that?”
“Hmm?”
Shuri smiled.
“Never mind baby. I’ll see you next week?”
“Yeah.”
She plants a kiss on your forehead. “Cool.”
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Before Shuri was scheduled to enter the ring, you went into her locker room mere minutes prior. She was already dressed in her boxing outfit, donning a robe that emphasized her status as the "Panther" champion. Your intention was to offer words of support until you unexpectedly found yourself swiftly hoisted and pressed against the wall, while Shuri's strap loomed inches into you. Aware that someone might be lurking outside, awaiting the arrival of the boxing champion, both of you attempted to maintain minimal noise, but doing so was damn near impossible.
“UNH.”
“Yeah, it’s like that baby? It feels like that?”
“Yeah…I…fuck.”
The intensity of your moans escalated beyond your control, potentially audible to any curious ears lingering outside the door. Shuri found herself needing to clamp your mouth with her hand, reducing the volume of your moans to a muffled sound against her palm. As the pleasure surged through you, your eyes rolled backwards, your saliva escaped your mouth and dripped onto Shuri's hand all while she thrusted with powerful determination.
Your pussy walls began to dilate, squeezing her pulsating strap and Shuri could feel it all. She felt every throb, and she pushed every pounding ache you gave her right back into you, fucking you into oblivion. Shuri knew her clock was ticking, the crowd roaring her name in the distance as you moaned her name into her palm.
“Panther,” you moaned into her skin, using her boxing title that drove Shuri insane. “You’re so fucking big.”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Uh huh.”
“Look at you…you’re helpless.”
“I wanna cum,” you wined, your lips still pressed into Shuri’s flesh.
“I know baby,” she replied, her voice was smooth. “I can feel it.”
Every single moment spent with Shuri from the past year with her; every lesson, every match, every drive back home, came flooding back to you at this very moment. You were so overcome by the power of Shuri, completely submerged in the way she made you feel both physically and emotionally. You tried to hold your tongue, stop yourself from saying words you didn’t mean, but irrational thinking won against you, compelling you to say the words you probably shouldn’t.
“Shuri?”
She removed her hand from your mouth, leaving you open for anyone to hear.
“Yes, princess?”
“I….unh. I love you.” Tears fell from your eyes in both emotional and physical pleasure, your orgasm paving way into your pussy, itching to be liberated.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Say it again.”
“I love you Shuri, I love you.”
“Well I love this tight pussy.”
“Fuck…oh my god. Oh my fucking god. I’m gonna cum.”
“Go ahead, y/n. You’re such a good girl. My good fucking girl.”
You unleashed a primal scream, not a care in the world for the crowd calling Shuri’s name in the distance because the only mouth that mattered to Shuri’s right now was yours. You cursed and whimpered as the boxing champion started to withdraw, reinserting the now lubricated strap back into her boxers and shorts. Once again, you were a wreck.
“Pull yourself together, baby. I’ll see you out there, yeah?”
“Mhmmm.”
She cupped your face, gently kissing you on the forehead.
“Good girl.”
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Watching Shuri as a boxing champion in the ring will always be one of your top favorite sites to see. It was a captivating experience; from the moment she stepped into the squared arena, an aura of confidence and determination surrounded her. Her presence alone commands attention, and the atmosphere becomes charged with anticipation.
With each move, Shuri displays a perfect blend of agility, strength, and technique. Her footwork is swift and precise, allowing her to effortlessly dodge and weave around her opponents' attacks. Her punches are delivered with a combination of speed and power, landing with precision and impact. She analyzed her opponents weaknesses, using them against them and this was a technique you now knew all too well about.
The crowd roars with excitement as Shuri engages in thrilling exchanges, showcasing her defensive skills by slipping punches and countering with calculated strikes. She exudes a level of grace and finesse that holds a place in your heavy mind.
The energy in the arena becomes electric as Shuri unleashes her signature moves, giving a final blow to her opponent that made her champion of the match.
“Panther! Panther! Panther!”
You clapped like a love-sick fool, proud of the woman that bathed in the crowd's roar. The arena erupted in thunderous applause, acknowledging her as a true boxing champion: The Panther. Shuri basked in her praise for a while, right before she made her way out of the ring to come face you. For a split moment, all eyes were focused on you as you momentarily stole the spotlight from the champion standing in front of you. You were surprised by her unexpected gesture as she brought you in for a kiss for hundreds to see. The crowd cheered you on, applauding the loving gesture you two shared that displayed on the jumbo screen above the ring. Shuri gently parted her lips from yours, and in that fleeting instant, the surrounding crowd seemed to fade into silence, as if the entire room emptied out, leaving just the two of you intertwined. You were overwhelmingly proud of her, on the brink of tears as she smiled at you.
“I love you,” she confessed, loud enough for only your ears to hear as the audience continued their Panther praise.
“Panther! Panther! Panther!”
“I love you,” she reiterated, holding you one last time before she made her way back into the boxing ring. ❁ཻུ۪۪♡
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The fifth beta squad member.
This was requested but I accidentally deleted the ask! If this was your request, thank you so much for sending this, I had fun writing this and I hope you enjoy it! 🩷✨
Maybe you’ve joined after the first year, you’ve been friends with Chunks for a while and he thinks you’re funny and talented so he wants you to be a member.
Niko definitely arranges an interview for you.
Ask you weird questions like, have you ever been arrested? Are you allergic to anything?
Chunks yelling at him to behave
Aj and Kenny already love you, so they talk you up to Niko.
Kenny loves that you’re more shy and reserved like him, and makes Niko promise he won’t scare you away.
Aj’s argument being that you’re funny
So Niko is like “go on, tell us a joke then”
After officially becoming a member, Niko definitely gets a contract for you to sign, claiming everyone else did but they’re just fake terms he came up with
You confessed to being attracted to Sharky once, so he definitely puts something related to that, NO dating among members
You getting more brand deals than them, for beauty or skin care products
Aj definitely comments on all your posts cute supportive comments like get your bag girl or skin glowing
Niko comments mean things to be annoying. All that makeup and still ugly or face wash does nothing to you or couldn’t even pay me go buy these
When filming for the beta squad channel, they care more about your opinion and what you think so they make you come up with video ideas because yours get more views.
Sharky is always late so he gets you coffee or tea to not be mad at him
When filming collabs with famous people or not they for sure tease you for liking them and make silly comments throughout the whole video.
Trent definitely flirts with you and they never let it die. Like it’s been months after and they still bring it up, oh your boyfriend is playing today. Your boyfriend just scored. Can your boyfriend film with us again?
Filing something football related, like the extreme World Cup challenges they did and they bring him up a lot, you know who’s good at football? Y/n’s boyfriend.
You know who loves football? Y/n!
No I don’t!
I meant footballers
You’re filming a lie detector test video and Kenny asks if you think you’re better than them and you say no and it’s the truth so they get a little sad and hug you ‘cause they think they’re too mean to you and promise to treat you better
They don’t.
When filming challenge videos, you always win and Niko threatens to kick you out
Trivia questions and you outsmart them every single time and Chunks gets defensive because he doesn’t like not being the smartest one
You being taller than Aj and teasing him about it
Lots of bickering
They are not doing anything without you. Like Kenny gets ready for a date and he FaceTimes you to talk him up. You’re the only one Chunks invites at his family dinners. You’re the only one Sharky allows around his sisters
They are very protective of you. No one is good enough for you.
They have scared a guy you were seeing away before. And they’re like, you deserve better
Maybe when you were all living together you were the only one cooking so after moving out, they still come around for dinner. Uninvited
You always have a date for events. And you don’t even have to beg them to go. Kenny is the only one showing up every time, maybe Chunks.
You’re the first person Kenny hugs after winning his fight, and Niko gets jealous.
Streaming with Aj and playing video games a lot.
Maybe you cook for him ‘cause you don’t like him eating takeaways all the time
People referring to you as the mum of the group.
And you are. But they’re grateful to have you and you love them, so after getting more fame and more opportunities you never leave the group
Niko gives you a big speech and says you can leave at any point.
But you don’t, because you’re grateful to have them in your life and you know no matter what you do, it will never compare with being a part of their little group.
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Ticklish Loid Forger x Reader
Romantic + 34. "Why are you looking at me like that?" Requested by @fluffandgiggles for my 1K Followers Event🌻
"Hehehe! Do it again - ahahaha! Agahahain!"
You smiled. Little Anya really loved tummy tickles more than anyone. She rolled on her back, her small hands holding yours, almost like a cat hugging its owner's hand tightly in order to keep it there, rather than remove it.
"Tickle tickle tickle!" you sang playfully, wiggling your fingers like spider legs over her belly.
"Bond too, Bond too!" Anya giggled, which was followed by an approving "borf!" from the adorable dog, eager to get his tummy tickled too, and so you did. You managed to pull your hand free from Anya's soft grip and tickled Bond's furry tummy. Bond reacted in a similar way as Anya did, rolling on his back adorably and enjoying the affection.
"Anya too, Anya too, ahahaha!" Anya squealed. Back to Anya. It was a playful loop of tickles that rewarded you with the sweetest giggles and borfs.
In the middle of all the fun and chaos, you looked up at Loid who sat on the couch reading his newspaper. Except.. he was no longer reading. He was staring at you. Not at Anya, not at Bond, you, with the fondest smile on his face.
Just as the two of you locked eyes, Anya yelled something about world peace (?) and ran into her room, together with Bond, leaving you behind in sudden silence.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" you asked, getting up to sit next to him.
Loid instantly blushed and looked back at his newspaper. "L-like what?" he asked nervously.
"Like... I don't know," you hummed, glancing down to find an opening. And oh, you found one.
"You were looking at me like... you were longing for some tummy tickles too?" you said, and you reached for his tummy and started to tickle. Loid immediately tensed, the newspaper crumbling in his hands as he bent forward.
"Wha-What?! Hohohold on! Thahats not- ahhahha! That's not truehehe!" he laughed.
"It isn't? You weren't starting like that because you were jealous?" you teased him, not slowing down your tickle attack on him.
"Nohoho I wahahasn't!" was Loid's giggly response.
You smiled. You weren't supposed to know he was a spy, and you weren't supposed to know he was this ticklish. Yet the romantic relationship you shared with him brought you this valuable information that could endanger your life. Whether that made it less exciting to make use of? Of course not!
"Okahahay eeheh-enough nohohow!" Loid laughed, pulling up the newspaper to use as a shield and cover his cutest reactions. He yelped when you grabbed his shield and pulled it away from him.
Loid immediately curled up in defense, protecting his tummy from further harm, but you were not planning your attack on his tummy like he anticipated. Instead you grabbed both his sides and clawed, digging in and wiggling your fingers while you climbed on top of him for further control.
"HAahahah! Nohoho! N-not thahahat!
The result was so sweet and satisfying. The loudest belly laughter that could only be activated through tickling and nothing else. No joke or funny face could get Loid Forger to make such a sound with all of his voice, and you found yourself staring at him with love and fondness as he let out this uncontrollable laughter.
"You wihihin! You win ahahah!"
"Was this ever a game, then?" was your teasy reply. You caught his hand that tried to fend off yours and entwined your fingers while using your other five fingers to continuously scribble at his side and ribs, making him arch his back.
"Hahahave mehehercy!" You couldn't hold back the smile that was even hurting your cheeks at this point. He was just too cute.
Despite your romantic relationship, Loid Forger didn't actually know that you knew about his true identity. He didn't know that you were aware of how smart he really was. How strong he was. How much danger he outsmarted everyday and how many opponents he took down.
Not knowing that you knew, he seriously allowed you to overpower him like this, fighting back with little strength almost equal to Anya's. He basically lay there and accepted your playful tickle torture, paying the price with his most beautiful laughter. Oh you never wanted to stop.
But of course you should've known it was a temporary delight. It was when you noticed two pairs of eyes staring at you from the side when you stopped tickling him, and you gasped.
Bond was wagging his tail, and Anya was looking at you with huge sparkling eyes. "Anya too! Tickle Anya too!" she chirped. You sighed and shook your head fondly.
"Well, it seems I have a new tickly part time job, don't I? Will I get some assistance?" you asked Loid who was still looking so sweet and flustered. He coughed awkwardly and nodded.
"Definitely," he said before forming two claws with his hands. Anya immediately squealed and started running now that her father got involved. Loid shot you a playful glance before he got up, and he winked.
"Your turn will be after this, just you wait," he said, making you blush as you were sure that was a tiny bit of the hidden Twilight side he just showed, and you secretly couldn't wait to see more of him!
#x reader tickles#spy x family#loid forger#x reader#loid x reader#tickling#tickle fic#anya forger#bond forger#otomiya!writes#lee!loid
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Bonds
Yandere Platonic Batfam x Trans Masc Autistic Reader
Hello! A bit of an authors note. This particular series will be dealing with transphobia, all of which stems from personal experience. Be advised when reading!
Warning: This is a yandere work, and as such, has themes of obsession , violence, stalking, conditioning and manipulation. Trigger warning for this particular one include the above warnings. They’re all pretty mild tbh.
Looking back on it, you knew there was nothing you could have done. That Dad Bruce had planned and pre-planned every meeting since your first interaction to draw you in, to learn more, before he had finally just taken you to the Manor. That there was absolutely nothing you could of done to outsmart the World’s Greatest Detective, who had become inexplicably obsessed with you, alongside all of his kids.
That didn’t make it any easier. It didn’t get rid of the guilt, or the frustration, or the fact you had been so close to doing what you wanted to do with your life. It didn’t help the ugly knot in your chest that would well up, tight and complex and full of emotion, and it didn’t help the bitter rage that would sit heavy in your belly some days.
You sigh, gently scratching behind Titus’ ear, and his tail thumps against the hardwood as he wiggles closer, nose snuffling for any treats. Finding none, he continues to preen under your petting and you laugh, pressing a kiss to his forehead with a smile.
“I had wondered where Titus had gone.” Damian comments, sitting next to you. Out of all of your “siblings”, Damian never really.. set of that anger in your chest. He was younger than you, still a child, and even though it sucked it made sense that he would follow in the behaviors others had set out for him. It made you sad, sometimes, but not angry.
“Me and him are just chilling. Isn’t that right, Titus?” He woofs softly at the sound of his name, and you laugh, scratching behind his ear again.
“You are going to spoil him, one of these days. I hope you know that.” Damian scolds, like he had a leg to stand on. You had seen him sneak the dog treats and snacks every now and then, something you were all explicitly banned from doing to prevent the dog from trying to get into the trash or on the countertops. “Are you watching Star Wars again?”
He sounded far too judgmental for your tastes, and you frown, reaching for the remote.
“I didn’t say to change it. Todd had simple remarked the other day that you watched it often.” He interjects, and you feel your shoulders unwind. You were.. defensive, of your interests, and it always upset you when someone mocked you for having them, no matter how much you wished it didn’t.
“Jason hardly knows how to mind his business half the time.” You grumble, then stretch. Damian slots into the seat beside you like he had been planning to all along, and you sigh tiredly. Despite the fact that you heavily suspected Damian was touch-starved to all hell, he would never outright ask for a hug, or go for one, instead slotting himself into a position where it would be very easy for you to hug or cuddle him.
Sometimes, it made you too sad not to. This time was one of those times.
You wrap an arm around your little brother Damian, letting him decide whether or not he actually wanted the affection. He sinks into your side easily, and you shift, eyes fixated on the screen.
You try not to wonder how much of his hesitance came from genuine trauma and how much came from the careful calculation he inherited from his father. It would only upset you.
You watch as the characters on the screen argue, the lines familiar enough that you mouth along, and the sky darkens outside, time passing in that strange, crawling way it did when you were totally relaxed and falling asleep. Part of you is glad Damian sought you out, the soft sounds of his breathing lulling you to sleep. Your eyes droop, and you sigh, letting your head fall back against the cushions.
“Awww.” The sound of a quiet coo makes you nearly jump up, arms tightening around Damian, and you only stiffen further when you see Dick leaning against the door, a broad grin on his features. He watches the two of you, Damian, who was no doubt awake, and yourself, and his eyes are sharp and piercing enough that your stomach turns.
“No one told me you’d come out of your room, baby bat.” He huffs, and moves toward you both on silent feet.
“Perhaps they simply wanted to spend time alone, Grayson.” Damian sniffs, but does nothing to prevent Dick from clambering onto the couch, wrapping an arm around you and Damian both. Despite not being even close to the youngest, Dick always treated you as a younger sibling, something that drove you insane and made rage bubble up whenever you thought of it too much.
“Nah. They’ll typically sneak off to the library if they want time alone.” He wasn’t wrong, per se, but the flippant way he says it makes you send him a tired glare. “What’re you watching?”
“Star Wars. The fifth one.”
“That’s the one with the Vader reveal, right? When he’s like “I am your father” and all that?” He questions, and you send him a tired glare.
“You’re older than me, how are you not more familiar with Star Wars.” You complain, and he laughs, settling further into the seat next to you. There was no escaping it now, unfortunately. You were stuck in the cuddle pile until he either let you go, the movie ended, or Alfred came to your rescue. Given that there was nearly an hour of movie left, you really hoped the third option would happen.
“Hey! I spent most of my childhood running around fighting crime, you don’t really get super into sci-fi after meeting actual aliens!” He defends, grinning.
“I feel like that would only increase the interest more, but okay.” You snort, and he laughs.
For the most part, the three of you are silent. Dick has a running commentary throughout the movie that you ignore, only pausing to correct him when he is simply just outright wrong, and Damian doesn’t say anything at all except to remark on how stupid the two of you were.
Then the scene on Cloud City comes on. The reveal.
It makes you.. uncomfortable, seeing how desperate Luke is to get away. It makes something tighten in your chest as you watch the screen, and Dick must realize because his eyes cut to you and suddenly the remote is in his hands, turning off the show.
“Not in the mood for all the dramatics.” He lies with an easy grin, even though you know that the reason he changed it had nothing to do with him and everything to do with you. “Let’s just sit and watch this, yeah?”
You weren’t even sure what show he had put on, and so you shake your head, pushing yourself up.
A strong arm pushes you back. Your heart starts hammering in your throat, an awful mix of anxiety and something else, and you glance over at Dick, trying not to think about the way Damian had eased back with a frown and how your fingers were wrapped tightly around Dick’s arm in alarm.
“Dick. Let me up, I have to use the restroom.” You lie, even as you hear your heartbeat thundering away in your ears. Dick was in a mood today, and you had no clue why or who had put him in that mood. Either way, it had your stomach churning and the hair on the back of your neck standing up.
“Yeah, no problem.” He lets you go easily, at that, and you slip away, trying to make it look like you weren’t running.
The door to your room shuts quietly behind you. The hinges are well-oiled and silent, another precaution they had taken when they had moved you in, so that you couldn’t hear them coming and going. For once, you’re grateful for their never ending paranoia. Now that you had picked up their silent hair, it made it easier for you to slip in and out of your room without detection.
You curl up on the bedspread, not bothering to go under the covers. You felt.. unwell. Hurt and angry and anxious. You felt confused and upset and a million other emotions you couldn’t name.
You had been bickering with Dick before the scene. Acting like siblings, behaving like a family. It was a harsh dose of reality in that no matter how much you cling to your anger, they were steadily working their way into your life, casting you in a role you had never wanted to play.
Or, actually, you had. You had wanted to be a part of their family, but not like this. You had wanted all of it, the loving father, the siblings, the unwavering support. But not at the cost of your freedom.
There’s a soft knock on your door, and you swallow. You hope it’s not Dick, because you didn’t feel like being yelled at and you didn’t feel like being guilt-tripped.
“Come in.” You croak, and the door opens with a whisper of air. Jason or Bruce, maybe? They were always careful to announce their presence when they were upset, although Cass also showed that same level of care when she comforted you.
The bed dips under their weight, and your body slides toward them, even when you don’t turn your head. Not Cass, she was too light. Bruce or Jason, then.
“Dick said you got upset, earlier.” A warm hand buries itself in your hair gently, and your lip trembles, even though you refuse to look at your Dad Bruce. He doesn’t demand that you do, thankfully. “Wanna tell me what you set you off?”
“What do you think?” You snap, teeth bared at nothing, and he continues stroking your hair, gently detangling the strands the best he can.
“I won’t know unless you tell me.” He comments neutrally, and you know that he’s playing you for a fool and it makes you so mad that you push yourself up, twisting around to face him.
“Really?! What have all of our conflicts been about so far, Bruce?” Your shoulders are hiked up. Angry. Defensive. You know you’re mad and you don’t care.
“(Y/N), I know you don’t understand just yet but it was for the best-“
“For you!! I didn’t get a choice, you didn’t give me a choice, and that’s the worst part!!” You shriek, and the bubbling anger that had been locked up and hidden away is finally escaping, in hot tears running down your face and your enraged shrieking. “I never had a choice! I just wanted- I wanted-!”
Sobs tear themselves from your throat, ugly and raw, and when his hand lands on your shoulder you shrug it off, pushing yourself away from him to stand on your own to feet.
The worst part is expression. Guilt and sympathy and sadness make an awful combination, and you grip the desk, rage pulsing in your veins. How dare he be sad when he did this. How dare he be sad when you were the one who had been ripped from your life.
“You wanted someone to take care of you, (Y/N). You needed help.” He says slowly, standing up. His posture is open, gentle, a non-threat. You aren’t fooled, and shuffle back.
“I had it under control! I was fine!” You snarl back, and he shakes his head, his face gentle.
“You didn’t. You weren’t sleeping, barely eating, you were constantly stressed because of your family… that’s not under control. It’s unhealthy.”
“And this is?! Ripping someone from their home, their family, because what-?! You wanted to? You’re awful! You’re selfish! I want to go home, take me home, let me go-!”
Warm arms wrap around you, pressing you into a broad chest, and you shriek against the fabric, trying your best to thrash. Despite being entirely human, his arms are like warm steel around you, unmoving, and eventually, your struggles cease, and you go still.
“I know what I did was selfish. I know it was cruel, (Y/N). But I just… I couldn’t bear losing another son. Your siblings, they can defend themselves. They have the training, the skills. But you were a civilian, struggling to stay alive and get through school, and I could only do so much to help you.”
His voice is thick, and you refuse to look up at him. He had the annoying habit of being painfully genuine when he knew it would rip your heart out.
He leans back, and begins to gently wipe your face, brushing the tears of your cheeks. Despite the screaming, he don’t look angry, but there’s a heavy, awful sorrow in his shoulders that makes you want to cry. Which makes more angry tears spill down your cheeks because how dare he make you feel guilty for upsetting him.
“I can’t lose another son.” He admits, voice cracking, and you swallow. Hearing him call you his son was.. it was a mixed bag. Old hurts and new ones creating something new. “And I knew, if I let it continue on, something terrible would have happened.”
“You could have asked me.” You croak, and he shakes his head.
“You wouldn’t have said yes. You had put everyone’s needs above your own, you would’ve self-destructed if I had left you there.”
The worst part was, he was right. You had been feeling so small and trapped that even if he had offered, you wouldn’t have accepted. It was a bitter pill to swallow.
“I know this isn’t fair. But you’ll get through this. And we’ll help you, every step of the way.” A gentle kiss to your forehead, as he smoothed back your hair, and he smiles down at you.
“Dinner is going to be in thirty minutes. Would you like to join me downstairs or stay up here until then?”
Your mouth is dry. Your face is red and teary and upset. Your eyes are puffy from crying.
You don’t want to be alone, either.
“I’ll come downstairs.” You whisper, and he smiles, kneeling to grab your weighted blanket. When you both sit on the couch, he ticks it around your shoulder, sits next to you, and puts on some show or another you don’t recognize.
He is warm and solid against you, and eventually you fall asleep, exhausted.
#yandere dc#yandere platonic x reader#yandere x reader#yandere platonic batfam#platonic yandere x reader#yandere batman#yandere dick Grayson
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hi! i saw that u write for aib and i was wondering if i can request a chishiya x reader, where they get separated in the middle of a difficult game and ends with the reader badly hurt by another player? idk why but i want something really angsty with a fluff ending (established relationship if possible) <3
A/N: Sure; I followed the concept as much as I could, I hope this is okay!! I need to start writing moreee aghhh I'm doing this final project for my course so it's been a bit hectic haha 😅 sorry for the wait! Enjoy 🖤
WORDS: 1.6K
Chishiya x Reader Oneshot; Smartass
Spades and Diamonds.
You already knew which person had to go where, which one between you and your partner was best for the very different survival games. One was all about using your head, outsmarting everyone to come out alive, and the other was about using your fists, your fight, physical strength rather than mental. And although you wouldn't say that you're the most physical person, especially in the Borderlands, you knew that in all the Borderlands, Chishiya Shuntaro could probably outsmart every single player. Maybe every gamemaster.
It was one of the first things you'd said to him when you met. During the Jack of Hearts, while the numbers of players were dropping on the screen, until it was just you and a handful of apprehensive, strange survivors left, Chishiya had stalked up to you and suggested you team up. The smirk that radiated self-confidence and amusement with the world, barely taking it seriously, but winning every game anyway, just because he could.
"Why don't you go solo?" You had questioned him with a raised brow, slightly defensive after he had called out your behaviour of just tagging along with the group but barely saying a word. You knew that trust was a priceless thing in the Borderlands, let alone in a Hearts game, and no one was worthy of it. "If you're such a smartass."
You thought that might get him annoyed, give him another reason to try and eliminate you from the game apart from being a survivor in the way of finding the Jack, or that you were the Jack yourself. But, if anything, his smirk grew, and those deep brown eyes looked almost curious as they glanced up and down at you.
"If I'm so smart, then what might you be?"
You scoffed under your breath, shrugging and looking away. "Wouldn't you like to know."
"Maybe I would," was Chishiya's answer, and you looked up at him, taken aback. But you could see that he meant it, that curiosity shining through his otherwise blank, assessing features, and so, after getting out of that game alive, and many others with him suddenly at your side, he did know. You both started to know each other, more and more, until you were practically inseparable.
No one announced that you were together. There was no proposal, no question of going out, no massive gesture. You were together before you were together. It only took one sealing kiss, where you were both alone in another long, tense night that somehow seemed a bit relaxed with your company. Chishiya always seemed so unbothered, so humoured by the world and people around him, like it was playing out for his amusement. But now, as you're faced with a dilemma that's hardly a dilemma, he doesn't look so amused. He looks almost as apprehensive as the players around you look when you and Chishiya breeze through the challenges, working together flawlessly. Chishiya found it odd how easy it was to know what the other was thinking almost all of the time during games, to find an interest in someone new and different, until it unfolded into something deeper and more loving. The whole thing was completely alien to the both of you, but you loved it, and let it blossom.
But now, as the large fluttering images of the face cards are dragged through the sky by fat blimps, Chishiya's brows twitch unapprovingly, searching for a solution that will guarantee both of your safety.
"Go," you urge him, and he knows what you mean immediately, staring at you thoughtfully. "It's your game, Chishiya. Go beat the King of Diamonds. I'll manage, I will."
Chishiya doesn't answer for a stretched-out few moments, still looking for another option, a way for you to stay at each other's side like you always do, but there isn't anything. You can't risk losing a Diamonds game, and Chishiya can't risk getting beaten at a Spade game.
"You will," Chishiya says finally, though he's not agreeing. He's making you promise him, convincing himself as well as yourself. You know that he'll have no interest in returning to the real world without you, and by this point, you can't imagine living any way without him. You don't want to, and you won't.
"I will," you repeat, and he nods, not fully satisfied. But it's the best you can do.
"Good luck," he says with a smirk that doesn't quite quirk up fully, and his hand lingers in yours until Arisu and Usagi come over to get you.
Chishiya nods again, letting your hands fall apart, and goes over to Arisu, walking up close to him and muttering some words in his ear. Arisu looks straight at you, then at Chishiya, and nods with a half-smile. Then, he wanders off casually, blonde locks tangling with the light breeze, and you watch after him, hands going cold and lips vaguely swollen.
"Come on," Usagi tells you with a smile, patting you on the back, "let's go."
You do go. And you do the best you can do. You feel like Chishiya's watching you every step of the way, like he watches the Borderlands' events in half-hearted amusement. It's like he's leaning forward in his seat, pools of deep brown searching the screen you're running through, dodging attacks and bullets and shielding your ears from the bangs and cracks of the King's gun. There's so much blood, more blood than you thought was possible to come out of anyone. The stinging smell of iron makes you feel sick, all the while you fight to the death. Usagi and Arisu and everyone are beaten and broken, right up until the King is defeated. But by then, everyone is defeated.
Even you.
You feel almost guilty, along with the rush of other emotions; shock, dread, fear, pain, desperation. You can't bleed out on him now. Not when you've come so far. Not after you promised.
Arisu and Usagi make it towards you, helping you up and practically carrying you out of the game zone, Arisu screaming for help, help for another person, despite his cuts and bruises and blood staining his skin. Overhead, you hear two blimps boom up in flames, falling apart and to the ground in crashes, the card images flailing and burning, as dead as the countless bodies sprawled on the floor.
Two booms.
You smile despite yourself. You knew he'd do it. The smartass.
"Chishiya!" you hear Arisu scream, and Usagi supports your weight as Arisu stumbles over to the blonde-haired man, grabbing at his arm. "Help us. Help her. I tried, but there was so much..."
So much blood. So many bullets. Arisu had tried, and he hadn't failed. But now, as your blurring sight latches onto that all-too-familiar figure who walked quicker than normal to get to you, you feel as if you've failed. All in a moment, one shot from the King at the nearest moving thing was all it took to make you collapse, all of a sudden losing the invincibility you had with your other half.
The blurring made the Borderlands and its sounds fade in and out, in and out, until you were able to blink a neutral, albeit run-down room into view. It was the back room of some kind of shop, with you lying back atop a table, your shot wound being patched up with delicate, expert hands and concentrating, meticulous eyes. Those eyes flick up to meet yours before they're back on the wound, and Chishiya's white, plastic-gloved hand pulls out a bullet. You wince, expecting more pain than you get, and watch him groggily.
"Isn't this supposed to hurt?" you find yourself whispering, and Chishiya shakes his head, not looking up.
"I gave you some pain relievers I found. Don't fidget, I'll mess this up."
You smile and roll your eyes. "I won't argue with a doctor."
"Good," he says with an absentminded, small smirk, carefully stitching up the hole and pulling a bandage closer to the table. "I know what I'm doing. Fortunately for you, the shot missed a vital organ, though the blood loss could have cost your life if I didn't stop it when I did."
You bite your lip, peering at your flushed, angry skin around the wound. "Oh. Thank you."
He hums in acknowledgement, putting the needle and thread down to unravel the bandage. "Stop fidgeting, you little annoyance."
You bite back a smile at his amused, fond tone, one you'd grown to love hearing, and started hearing more and more. But your smile fades as your thoughts run away with you, until you end up blurting them out.
"I'm sorry."
Chishiya glances up at you. "What for?"
"Getting shot," you mumble. "I know I promised. It was just really... I didn't die."
"You didn't die," Chishiya confirms. "That's what matters, isn't it? You kept your promise. And life and death here isn't something you can so easily promise."
"No," you agree. "I know. But you can. You're such a smartass, I knew you'd waltz out of that game alive and alone."
Chishiya smirks properly at that. "I'm still the smartass? I thought you would have started treating me nicer now I've saved your life and you've saved mine."
You frown at the last statement, confused. "I saved your life? How?"
Chishiya simply smiles, fastening the bandage and admiring his work. "You have. Maybe not from a gun. But you have."
You're lost for words for a short while, blinking at him. "Really?"
Chishiya nods, sitting beside you and reaching out hesitantly, stroking a piece of your hair so delicately, like you could break with a single hard tap.
"Really. You," he whispers dramatically, as if he's telling you his biggest secret, "are my biggest and best reason."
And then, just like that, he's back up and packing the medical aids away, looking over his shoulder at you with his usual, infuriating amusement and perceptiveness.
"You're blushing."
You scoff at him, rolling your eyes.
"Smartass."
#shuntaro chishiya x reader#chishiya x reader#chishiya shuntaro#chishiya alice in borderland#aib chishiya#chishiya aib#nijiro x reader#aib s2#shuntaro chishiya#alice in borderland chishiya#chishiya fic#chishiya x you#aib x reader#alice in borderland fanfic#alice in borderland#imawa no kuni no alice#alice in borderland spoilers#aib season 2#aib netflix#aib spoilers#aib#alice in borderland season 2#aib x you#chishiya x y/n
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You know, in the recent episodes of Horizons, both Liko and Roy had one of their Pokemon learn new moves. But what's really interesting is the kind of moves each one learned. So far Roy's Pokemon have been learning a lot of offensive moves, like Fuecoco learning Stomping Tantrum, Flamethrower, and now Disarming Voice, and him trying out a combo offensive attack with Fuecoco and Wattrel. In other words, he's all about power and offense. Liko's development has been comparatively slower as far as moves, but her Hatenna recently learned Heal Pulse, which is a move to heal other Pokemon. Notably, this is a move that is not only a supportive move, but one that works at its best in a team setting. Liko's Sprigatito hasn't learned anything yet but is naturally more skilled than Roy's Fuecoco and a notable thing it has going for it is that it uses Leafage to unleash its natural sweet scent to lull its opponents into an entranced state, letting their guard down.
Liko herself is notably very perceptive in battle and she's quite analytical and strategic. Roy is more headstrong and about attack and isn't as naturally skilled in battle as Liko is. But the throughline in what I pointed out above is that Liko's Pokemon seem to be gearing more towards a support/defensive battling style, while Roy has a more offensively oriented battle style intent on really dealing damage. I feel that individually, they have some shortcomings, but together their skillsets are developing in such a way where they complement each other, to a point where as a duo, they'll eventually be a powerhouse duo whose skillsets work in tandem with one another to really outsmart and overpower whatever's in front of them, and their already excellent chemistry as friends lends to the potential for incredible teamwork between the two of them.
In a sense it feels like their developments as Trainers really is designed to complement each other, so that they work best **together**. Their battle styles align with their personalities but their skillsets would work so well in tandem together that as a duo they would eventually grow to become unstoppable, able to overcome challenges as a team. Liko being a strong defensive/support backbone that Roy can lean on, while Roy is the heavy hitter between the two who really dishes out the dirt.
Their stories to begin with were always deeply intertwined with each other, which was hinted at when Roy's Poke Ball and Liko's pendant resonated with each other. Roy wants to become a strong battler who can challenge the Pokemon of legend like Rayquaza, though he lacks the talent and skill to be able to battle. Liko started out with no real goal, but eventually learned of Lucius thanks to Roy's Poke Ball revealing the Black Rayquaza and that her pendant was related, and now wants to understand the feelings of Pokemon. She is also more strategic and skilled, and the development of her Pokemon's skillsets so far while still just starting out is aligning with that too. Together, they will both be able to achieve their goals, Roy being able to go toe-to-toe with Rayquaza and other powerful Pokemon as a team with Liko, who can also eventually help Terapagos and its friends and whatnot and overcome the Explorers as a duo with Roy.
Teamwork will be what eventually allows Liko and Roy to overcome the Explorers in particular I feel, since that's also where the Explorers contrast them: unlike the RVT, the Explorers do not value teamwork and each admin is self-centered and they are constantly trying to one-up each other instead of working together (think Kakashi's first lesson to Team 7 in Naruto, for instance), which I think will be their downfall that will eventually allow Liko and Roy to, as a team, win against them.
Long ass neurodivergent ramble but just some thoughts haha.
#pokemon#anipoke#pokemon horizons#pokemon 2023#pokeani#pokemon anime#liko pokemon#pokemon liko#trainer liko#liko#roy#trainer roy#pokemon roy#roy pokemon#hz037#hz038#teamwork#explorers
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there are few things more embarrassing than a youtuber making a defensive review of a piece of experimental media they're afraid will somehow outsmart them.
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Hi! I'm the same anonymous that requested the gyomei ask! Now you can call me 🧇 anonymous!
Can I request a Yandere! Kokushibou X demon reader? Reader is stronger than him and can outsmart him anytime, and they are a good demon (already broke out of kibutsuji curse if you don't mind!), they work for the demon slayer corps and could kill Kokushibou anytime but not now because they don't want too.. yet. And they also being hunt down by Muzan (but could escape him anytime and trick him XD)
-> 🧇
Heya, Anonymous! I loved that Gyomei request! This one is nice but— Us? Stronger than Kokushibo?! Are we the reincarnation of Yoriichi? I suppose, but anyway. I’ll do this for you, love! Hope it’s good enough!
Yandere! Kokushibo- Faster, Stronger, Smarter
Kokushibo couldn’t believe he has met a demon, after his 480+ years of being a Upper Moon, that can genuinely match him in raw power and intelligence. You can easily outsmart him and make him panic during a battle
Kokushibo should hate you to a extreme level but he doesn’t. He is intrigued by your abilities and your image, he wants to know more about you and that desire grows into a obsessive thought. That thought then moulds into a full-on obsession, Kokushibo now needs you and it hurts to stay away from you
Kokushibo is so outraged by the fact you’re not on his side, you’re with those stupid demon slayers! What do they have that he doesn’t? He may not be able to actually battle you and make you submit to him but no other demon(besides Muzan) can stand a finger to him. Isn’t that enough to make you adore him?!
Kokushibo is very impressed by the fact you have defeated the ‘Kibutsuji Curse’ and it makes you a even bigger threat that you are no longer trapped in Muzan’s grasp. Only three other demons have been freed from this curse and he always wonders how you did it
Everytime Kokushibo gets into a battle with you, he notices the way you hesitate to strike him down. You can kill him, you’ve had him on the defensive more than once and struggling to attack back but you don’t want to. Why? He doesn’t really know but his delusions have convinced him it’s because you’re in love with him too
Kokushibo finds out that you’re one of Muzan’s two known targets through his Master, but you always manage to escape him. Kokushibo is internally relieved that you escape everytime whilst Muzan is completely outraged. One of his biggest threats can outclass his strongest soldier, you’re such a pest to Muzan but a blessing to Kokushibo
Kokushibo is a very aggressive Yandere. He isn’t above murdering all of his potential love rivals but does it in secret. He may not be on the best terms with you but he is planning to work towards tricking you into joining him. You don’t deserve to be killing your species, you should be with your species
Kokushibo stalks you a lot to try feed and quell his intense obsessive in-love desires over you. You may be stronger, faster and smarter but you genuinely don’t believe Kokushibo is brave enough to sneak around in the break of day to watch your every movement. He is ready to die to ensure he can have you as his
Kokushibo steals small items you own and discarded things you threw away. Sure, it may be a bit unsanitary but he doesn’t care. He loves you so much that he needs to keep everything you have touched before. Rather it be a bloody bandage or your entire demon slayer uniform, anything of yours makes him so pleased
Kokushibo leaves you random cute wrapped gifts he finds or kills for, with the most affectionate and complimentary notes you’ve ever read, at your Estate’s doorstep by nightbreak every single day. To him, it’s helping him get a better chance in winning your heart, piece by piece and he won’t stop anytime soon
“Don’t you understand… my love? These humans… have brainwashed you into… thinking you’re one of them… but you’re not… you’re a demon… just like me… Come with me, I’ll… show you what you’re… missing”
#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer#anime and manga#kny imagines#headcanons#kny upper moons#yandere imagines#yandere romance#kokushibo#yandere#yandere headcanons#demon slayer kokushibo#kny kokushibo#kokushibou#kokushibo headcanons#kokushibo x reader#yandere kokushibo#kny x reader#kny#demon slayer headcanons#yandere demon slayer#yandere problems#upper moon 1#muzan mention#good demon reader au#we be good person#but Kokushibo wants to ruin it
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I'm really late to the party with this, but I have a fae-like character to share if you're interested 0w0
Basically, he was originally a human who tried to outsmart a fae by tricking it into giving him powers. Sadly, this didn't go too well for him and he ended up reduced to a monster roaming the woods in search of its next meal.
He wanted the power to change his appearance and, the fae, angry at the human for trying to deceive them, gave him exactly what he asked for. The man wanted to test out his new powers and turned himself into a moose, only it didn't work out quite right. His new body was deformed and monstrous and he found he could no longer return to his old human form.
The man can now no longer be considered human, rather a mimic that looks like a 's pretending to be a moose. While he can no longer change his form, he can mimic the sound of people's voices when he hears them, often using them to call out to friends and family, luring them into the woods to be consumed.
He can't speak in his own voice anymore, having long since forgotten how it used to sound, instead just copying the dying screams and begs for help of its prey. (Think the bear monster from annihilation).
I have a picture of him here if you're interested. (Hopefully this link works!)
I wonder if the Witch would encounter the Mimic at any point since she lives near the woods. LMAO I'm just imagining how fun it would be for it to try mimicking Price's voice to lure her over. Or perhaps one of the other darlings considering the Witch might be a little too clever to fall for such a thing.
Oooh I love this, love the horror, plus annihilation is one of my favorite movies. I hope you don't mind if I write a little something because this absolutely inspired me :)
You don't know what it is, but you've seen it, heard it. The crying, the wailing sob of a young woman, the screams of a child. The echoes of it through the thin limned trees and snow. You've watched, crouched behind your garden wall as the moose that isn't a moose wanders past with its strange and horrible cries. It scares you enough to pour salt along your wall, the purest barrier you can think of, a defense actually visible to you. You trust your threshold, but better safe than sorry.
You don't call Price, you should call Price. At least ask him to shoo the thing away. It keeps hanging around. Almost as bad as Price himself, but at least when Price spooks you, you know how to combat it. This thing is... you can't describe the feeling of it. Slick like oil, the magic simply doesn't mix with yours. Even the wisps of it through the cold of Winter give you a clear enough picture to not want it near your fence.
But it feels like it's getting closer.
Price left a little bit ago. You're back to your gardening, crouched next to the asparagus breaking off stalks with practiced fingers. You produce is coming in well this season, probably all the extra time you've been spending in the garden.
"Witch," Price calls behind you, you hum in answer, he must have forgotten something. "Sweetheart," He tries again, almost pleading. You blink, you've never heard that tone before. You stand and turn to face him.
Turn to face the dead glassy eyes of the Moose that isn't a moose as it snuffles at your salt barrier. Your ribs clench tight, stopping your breath before you can draw in a gasp. It's mouth opens to speak again, to croak out Price's voice from behind rows of needling teeth, its lips drawing too far back, predatory. It's ears twitch, listening for any sound of you. It can't get through your barrier, you remind yourself.
That doesn't stop it from trying. It's overgrown and stained horns scraping against the threshold, as it follows the line of the wall. The soft crunch of snow that follows it is too delicate for a beast that size. You turn to watch its path, the sickly matted fur, the raw musculature, you try your best to breath shallow and even. The slick magic around it is so at odds with everything you know about magic. The corrupted wild magic of human ambition and hubris where it meets a petty fae. If you weren't rooted in place you might throw up.
You press a hand to your chest, trying to feel for the strands you'd been steadfastly ignoring. Something to ground you to a feeling of safety and not this overwhelming fear. You don't know what to do but hold onto one of your ties to Price and wait for the creature to give up and leave.
When it finally does go it's with the same wailing cry you've heard so many times. It seems to be directed at you. The punishing sound of it for your ears only, crying over a lost meal. The scratches you feel on the threshold as it continues dragging its horns along it are raw and throbbing. The only solace you have is that for now your barriers have held up. You only hope that the creature is smart enough to recognize this failed attempt as a futile one, that it will find a new area to hunt in.
You'll work on a banishing spell just in case.
#oc: witch#fae au#oc talk#oh spooky scary moose we love you#Price feels his tethers light up with fear and is like: probably not a good sign#I imagine Price shoos the moose away from Witch's house with a broom#go on get outta here#just so tired of dealing with aggressive fae all day
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The final fight between Obadiah and Tony is beautiful. It kinda sucks that they nerf Tony's suit in order to put him on an undeserved backfoot against Stane's more rudimentary armor. But, see, that's the thing.
At the end of the day, this isn't just about who can beat up who. A well-written fight is one that informs on the characters and themes. That tells a story through its action. And this is a very well-written fight.
We see Stane's cruelty and callousness through his disregard for civilian casualties on the highway. The moment where he tries to crush Tony with a car, only for Tony to catch the car and put it down safely? That's a statement on their respective values.
But moreover, the act of nerfing Tony creates a meaningful theme. Stane doesn't really care for the nitty-gritty of engineering and design. He's just a businessman. Sitting on a saleable stockpile of weapons designed by other people makes him feel powerful. Both his suit and the reactor powering it are stolen tech, but they're his now and that's all he cares about.
In this moment, Stane embodies Stark Industries itself as a defense contractor. Tony is fighting the shadow of weapons manufacturing. This wouldn't be a very meaningful confrontation if Tony could just shoot him with Tank Missiles and blow him up. Stane gets all the guns because the guns themselves are the true villains of this movie.
This leaves Tony on the back foot, as is typical of heroes when faced against their villains. But Tony has that one thing that Stane doesn't. The thing Stane covets. The thing Raza coveted. He has a brilliant mind, and that means more than any Tank Missile or Unibeam.
Stane has all the guns but lacks the knowledge or discipline that comes from understanding them. And Tony uses that to think his way around the problem of Stane's guns, outsmarting him at every turn with clever solutions. Tony's genius, not his weapons, ultimately triumph over the shadow of said weapons.
And. Like. It's literally the arc reactor that kills Stane. That is so poignant. The reactor he naysayed as a publicity stunt to appease hippies. That he refused to go along with developing, opting to keep making guns. That he resorted to stealing when none of his people could grasp the science of it.
The arc reactor, the ultimate embodiment of Stark ingenuity outside of weapons development, is ultimately what brings an end to Stane and by extension to Stark weapons development. It's perfect.
This is one of the best fights in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Hands down.
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