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icharchivist · 2 years

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a bit of thinking out loud on my part but i’ve been thinking for a while know about constantly slamming stuff for “bad writing”, more in the sense of “no one talks like that” or “this sentence was so badly worded” more than “it didn’t make sense in the end” as if it’s a deal breaker makes me think that we really moved too far away from suspension of disbelief and not wanting to just, fill in the steps kind of?

Like, i’m thinking about how ff7cc has some of the cringiest dialogues i could think of and some characterizations suffer a lot from that. When i don’t play the game for a long time, i’m always coming back to it and laugh at how they overuse “protect your honor”, or everything about Loveless, and stuff like that. but when i want to seriously play the game too, i want to give the game a benefit of a doubt. Of, okay, i find it ridiculous but you’re taking it seriously, so i’m going to try to take it as seriously as possible. What are you doing to do with that. And thanks to that i think i can properly experience some of the more visceral elements of the game, despite how much of its emotional core resting on this specific idea that i find cringe.

And it’s just like, idk, i think constantly wanting something to be really well written and getting rid of the cringe completely is kind of trapping yourself into an echo chamber where you’ll only get to hear the same old things. Eventually to experience new things it’s good to go into horizons that you’d consider cringe and try to see if there’s something you can get out of it, if you take it as seriously as ever. And sometimes cringe is unfiltered sincerity, which has its place especially in emotional story telling.

I kinda feel like there’s an overuse of “wanting realism” in stories (again “real people don’t talk like that”), that it’s easy to just close yourself from anything slightly challenging what you’re willing to accept as realistic. in a way i’m just refusing to think “realism” is the same thing as “immersive” and if something is unrealistic to me, i don’t think it specifically breaks immersion and i care much more about immersion than realism. But even so, Immersion often comes with just, accepting what the story wants you to accept as normal. you have to do some work as the person receiving the story for it to work.

Feels stilted and boring and it’s kinda sad how often i see it brought up that “bad writing” in term of, clumsy sentence structure and stuff, can take someone out of something this badly.

I guess it’s just to each their sensibilities but, how dull....

#i've been seeing it a lot over different fandom i've been into #and often it's like 'i couldn't get into it because people don't talk like that' and stuff or 'they talk about their feelings too much'#and it's just. boring.#I think that there's an aspect of interreacting with fictions that isn't just about making stuff up to fill gap out of spite #but also just - as an audience - to be willing to say okay it's not working for me but let's see where you're bringing me with it #idk if it makes sense but this is like the 4th take i'm seeing on something like that this week #not even always on things i actually /like/ but generally it takes me out as in '/this/ was your deal breaker with this thing?'#like 'how could people be fan of that when the writing was this bad'#and like my dude the cringe writing is not the biggest problem here what #feels... snobbish but for the wrong reasons lmao #but oh well i also do tend to like things a little cringier than the norm anyway #and besides i never consume stuff in my native language so everything is a bit filtered in that sense #i do remember watching a game playthrough in english and everyone was talking about how 'no one talks like that it's so cringe'#and i was just yeah no whatever it's a bit ridiculous but it's nothing immersion breaking to me even if it's not realistic #but then i watched the same game in french and it was translated flawlessly #and i was just 'oh okay no this is cringe as hell help'#i still had a lot of fun though but i did have to pause sometimes because they really made me listen to the wildest string of words #but yeah idk where i'm going with it but yeah #(taking ff7cc as an example bc it's probably the least risky thing for me to dunk on)#(and besides the Old Ones here know that i used to have 'living legacy' in my @ in here)#(so me making fun of 'protect your honor' while it's full punch is in the same speech as the living legacy thing...)#(ya know how I Feel.)#ichasalty #kinda?#ichatalks

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stellato-17 · 2 years

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Shantae: Risky's Revenge 12th Anniversary!

#Dibujos 2022 #Mis Dibujos #Dibujos Digitales #IbisPaint X #Wallpapers #Anniversary #Aniversario #Shantae #Shantae Risky's Revenge #Nega Shantae #WayForward #00s #Video Games #Since 2017 #English #2022

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russellsppttemplates · 2 months

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Just say the word (Max Verstappen)

A secret relationship is hard enough to deal with when you don't have people constantly shipping your boyfriend with someone else

Note: english is not my first language. This is the first time I'm writing athlete!reader, so I thought about the sports I know better and swimming seemed fitting for what I wanted!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: secret relationship

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"You're alone today, Y/N?", one of the other girls, Ella, asked as you retrieved your waterproof workout plan sheet from the folder.

"I'm going away tomorrow and I won't be back until Monday morning, so I squeezed in my Saturday session now; Carol is coaching with the younger group today later", you explained the fact that you were at the pool without your coach.

At first, swimming was an after school activity since your parents worked long hours and they needed you to be occupied and somewhere with someone looking after you, but as you grew older, your passion for the activity became more serious. Combined with your natural skill and hard work - and, truth be told, a dust of luck from deep pocket sponsors - you were able to become a full time swimmer. Tokyo 2020 Olympics was the proudest moment of your career as you stepped on the podium next to two of the people you looked up to the most, wondering if you were ever going to stand in the top step and hear your national anthem play. Baby steps - Carol told you immediately - this is already a huge achievement, Y/N!

"Do you want to stretch together?", Ella wondered, throwing a foam roller for you to catch once you nodded and getting one for herself.

"Where are you off to this weekend?", she asked curiously. You were playing a risky game, you knew that much, going away only on weekends and travelling to countries where, coincidentally, the Formula One Grand Prix was being held.

Luckily for you, no one seemed to make the connection as the last two years you managed to keep your relationship a secret. You first met Max in a sponsor party at the beggining of your professional career when you needed to up your earnings as the costs of travelling to competitions was getting higher and heavier on your savings. It fell through, but other sponsors came your way and you and Max started hanging out after it. The Dutch driver was funny and charming and after winning your first Olympic medal, you felt unstoppable and confessed your feelings for him. When he admitted he felt the same for you, you went from there on. At first, the decision to keep it secret was both strategic, as Max didn't want you to miss out on any sponsorships or teams backing you because you were in a relationship with him, and personal as he didn't want the world's prying eyes on your relationship.

Two years later, you felt like there had never been a right time to do it so things stayed the way they were, and most of the time, you didn't mind it.

"Austria", you kept the city to yourself as you worked on your hips as they were still tight from yesterday.

"Didn't you go there last year?", she quirked an eyebrow.

"Last year, I had more of a city break weekend, this time around I'm going for a nature approach, you know? No phones, no Internet, digital detox and all of that", you offered, doubling up the excuse so she wouldn't expect to see and Instagram stories or posts from your weekend away.

"Sounds nice! It can really get in your head when you're too long on them - I have a timer on my phone because otherwise I won't even notice the amount of time I spend on social media", she smiled before silently asking if she could take the foam rollers back to their box.

Getting yourself on the water and used to the temperature, you started with your usual warm up routine before following the plan you stuck to the platform.

On some days, the session felt quick, before you knew, the other athletes were already stretching and getting prepped for their own session. Today, it seemed like it would never end, as you looked at the clock and only fifteen minutes had gone by since the last time you checked it. At least your times were improving, you thought, drinking some water before going back to practice your butterfly stroke as dictated by the workout sheet.

It was already evening time when you sat down on your bedroom floor, packing everything you had laid out to take on your trip with you when your phone rang.

"Hey, liefje", Max said as his face showed up on your screen, "how was your day?".

"Good. Had training in the morning, then a physio session because my hips kept hurting, and I found some time to buy a replacement for my moisturiser before I came home to have dinner and pack", you showed him the suitcase, "and you? The car seems good, a nice gap to the others as well", you mused.

"The same old Friday, really. Woke up, came to the track, a little debrief with Alice and then we headed to the track. Only tomorrow will tell, but I'm confident on the pole", he smiled, "can't wait to have you here with me and see your gorgeous face up close".

"You can see it now", you ridiculed as you rested your chin on your phone and looked into the camera so Max could have an interesting angle of your features, "beautiful, am I right?", you joked.

"The most beautiful", he complimented, "are you nearly done packing?", he wondered.

"Yes, just my charger and a few other last minute things left - I'll put them in my backpack tomorrow morning", you reasoned.

"You better get to sleep, your flight is early", your boyfriend encouraged, "I really need it - a proper shower first and then I'll go to bed", you assured, "I love you, Max, see you tomorrow", you blew him a kiss.

"I love you too, gorgeous! Text me updates from your flight, okay?", he smiled, smooching his lips for you to see before you ended the videocall.

The shower helped you unwind for the night, a little list on your kitchen counter to remember you of the last minute things as you turned off the lights and got back to your bedroom, your bed waiting for you so you could sleep a decent amount of hours.

Sitting on the waiting area of the airport, you placed your backpack on your legs and rested your elbows there, grabbing your phone to scroll through social media.

Ella was right, people did spend too much time on these. Everyone around you seemed to be on their phone or tablet devices.

A photo of your boyfriend showed up in your explore page, a fan page showing his walking back to the garage after FP1 and Alice was trailing right beside him.

Scrolling through the carrousel of pictures, you found a small video of them laughing together about something. The comments under it were the same as usual.

No one can convince me they're not together!😌 (to be read as I know I'm delulu)

If they're not, I'll volunteer to show them how good they would be for eachother! 🫣

Such a power couple 😮‍💨🥵

When they finally knock some sense into eachother's head and realise they're meant to be together, I'm claiming them as my parents! 🥹

No matter how many times you saw it, it never got easier. For all everyone knew, Max was single, so they weren't acting as a disregard of you. They didn't knew a regard of you to begin with. So they took interest in his love life and hoped he was in a relationship with some of the women he interacted with. Max usually didn't let many of them start to begin with, but Alice worked for the team, he could only get so far away and be distanced from her.

Max wouldn't cheat on you, you knew that. But the comments made you wonder. Would he be better off with someone else? Someone who could follow him anywhere?

The thoughts often plagued your mind, and they hadn't yet turned to the your other insecurities, so you had to be thankful for that.

Boarding on the plane, you played some music on your earbuds as you fished out your kindle to continue reading the book you started at the beggining of the week.

The buzz was installed on track as you found your spot in the stands just in time to see the marshalls tidying up whatever was left on the concrete so qualifying could start without a hitch.

This was usually how you did it. On Saturday, you would watch qualifying from the stands, waiting a little in the fan zone before Max whisked you into the hospitality with Gianpiero's help. On Sunday, you either stayed on the stands and repeated the same procedure or you arrived early to the track and stayed in his driver's room so to not lift any suspicions. You had been invited to watch a few races with the Paddock Club pass with some of the other Olympic athletes, but it hadn't happened in a while.

To anyone, you were a regular fan. You had your RedBull cap on and sunglasses, and you had never been recognised in one of the races, so you felt calm. The tricky bit of keeping your relationship hidden from the public eye was going to be later, for now, you could just wait and appreciate the fast laps.

"I'm sorry, you're Y/N Y/L/N, right?", a girl in a Ferrari cap called your name. Crap.

"Hi, I am", you smiled, "I'm sorry to ambush you like this - I am a big fan and you're a big inspiration to me. I also swim", she reasoned as she fumbled with her phone, "do you mind if my father takes a picture of us?", she politely asked.

"That's okay, yes", you smiled, taking off your sunglasses briefly as the older man snapped a picture before he shook your hand, "she won't shut up about your achievements! Did you tell Ms. Y/L/N that you're going to be in the qualifiers for Paris?".

"It's Y/N, please", you requested, "That's fantastic, congratulations! I hope it all works out for you and I'll see you around there!", you hugged her quickly before she thanked you and found their seats.

She seemed nice enough and it wasn't like you were a public figure, at least to the general public anyway really, so between all of the people who could've spotted you, she was fine.

"C'mon Max!", you yelled as he and Charles seemed to be separated by a few tenths of a second, cheering loudly when the times were set and your boyfriend got the pole position.

The timing was perfect as Max took a little longer than expected on his interviews, fans scattering to the fanzone and track experiences while you spotted Max's engineer, walking with him when no one seemed to be paying attention to it.

"I'll tell Max you're already here", he smiled before he closed the door of the driver's room.

It always felt a little odd. Like you were doing something forbidden and illegal by being there.

"Yes, we'll meet in a bit", Max told whoever was in the corridor after he opened the door, closing it back when you jumped on him, legs wrapping around his waist, "hey, pole sitter", you smirked, nuzzling your face on his neck and kissing the soft skin.

"Hello, liefje", he mumbled against your skin before you pulled away, "kiss?", you asked for his lips to settle on yours for a bit, filling up on eachother's presence.

"No one saw you come here?", he asked. You shook your head, "everybody was paying attention to other things, the only people I encountered already know so we're safe", you stated.

Max noticed the change of tone, but you wouldn't have time to properly discuss it so he let it slide for now, telling you instead about the session and how the car felt, as well as the dinner plans her had for you since the room service menu was "so varied we could make our own little buffet".

You stayed in the room while he had the debrief, leaving together when you made sure no one would see you two.

"Room service called back, they said they'll bring the food in ten minutes", Max said as you got out of the bathroom, dressed in pyjamas and fresh out of the shower, "That's good, I'm starving", you smiled as you sat down.

Max always received the food at the door to ensure no prying eyes would see something he didn't want, along with other precautions like packing up all your things in case someone from housekeeping enjoyed the gossip and took the rumours somewhere else.

"I know something is bothering you", Max began you had taken a piece of chicken to your much, "I noticed it when we were in my room, and even now there's something", he nudged your arm.

Chewing and swallowing afterwards, you moved the broccoli around your plate, gathering your thoughts before speaking up, "do you know people ship you and Alice?", you spoke up.

"Don't change the subject, darl - is that it?", Max tried to understand.

"People seem to think you'd make a great couple, like, they have your whole relationship panned out. Everyone thinks she's very pretty - and I agree with them -, and that you two have chemistry and that it would be nice for you to be with her - looks exchanged and all sorts of ideas", you mumbled.

"Liefje, I'd never do that to you, I don't interact with her that way", Max replied instantly.

"I know you don't, but it hurts to see", you admitted, "comments people make about my boyfriend and how he really should start dating someone - and they know who that person is, so really it's just a matter of putting two and two together!", you let a tear fall down your cheek.

"Y/N, I didn't know it was bothering you so much and bringing you such sadness", Max cupped your cheek, thumb wiping the tears that followed suit and looking into your eyes.

"I can ask the team to issue or statement - or we can go public. I don't care what we do as long as you feel better about it", he comforted.

"Do you want to go public?", you asked, afraid of the answer.

"Y/N, my love, being secret was just to protect you, for your good. If going public is the solution for this, I'm the first one to walk into the paddock tomorrow with you, holding hands and everything", he moved his hands to cradle your own.

"You mean that? It's just, I don't want people to assume you're single and throw themselves at you - or throw someone at you! I know Alice won't do it, but other people might and I'm tired of having to lie to people about where I'm going and saying no to dates they try to set up and why I gave a RedBull rain jacket on my car", you chuckled at the last one, remembering your coach's reaction when she saw it, "Since when do you follow F1?", Carol questioned.

"We'll do it tomorrow if you want, or whenever you feel ready, Y/N. I'll be by your side, always", he smiled kissing your lips lovingly.

"I don't have any paddock wag outfits with me", you giggled, "have to make a good impression".

"Please, you could go in these pyjamas and you'd still be the prettiest woman there", he pulled you to sit on his lap as you finished your dinner.

The next morning, people couldn't believe their eyes as Max walked hand in hand with a young woman, the pair of them talking about something between them as they giggled.

A few were unsure of it was really you while others asked their colleagues to please repeat your name, googling you quickly and finding out your achievements.

Soon enough, pictures flowed social media with the paddock's new power couple, gossip Instagram pages having a field day and it wasn't even lunch time.

"This is news", Daniel said as he spotted Max. He had been one of the few people outside of the team who knew about you two, you having made him swear that he would never tell anyone, and if by chance he did let something slip, you trusted him to make a joke out of it and for people to assume he was just teasing Max indeed.

"You won't have to keep it to yourself anymore, Danny", you said as you hugged his side quickly.

"That's good, actually, I think that's what has been keeping me from being focused in racing, it's a real relief, Y/N", he stated and for two seconds, you felt bad for putting such pressure on him, "I'm just kidding! C'mon, you know what I'm like", he gave you a big smile, "now, I have to go, will pop by to see you though!", Daniel said as he waved while he carried on to his team's garage.

Your interactions with Daniel and the team spurred curiosity as the media started thinking and hypothesizing that maybe your relationship was as new as they thought it was. As it turns out, once again, Max Verstappen knew how to keep private aspects away from the media.

For now, they would try to dig more and find out how the Olympic medalist swimmer stole the heart of the Formula One driver.

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff

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haitani-maki · 28 days

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✧ Hᴀɴᴍᴀ Sʜᴜᴊɪ

MDNI +18

Just a few things I thought about him

English is not my first language

✧bf!hanma likes it when you call him Shuji

✧bf!hanma loves it when you get mad at him, Hanma thinks you look like an angry kitten

✧bf!hanma this guy is going to sneak into your room at night, he is crazy

✧bf!hanma he spends more time in your home

✧bf!hanma he's the big spoon

✧bf!hanma he likes it when you wear his shirts, he thinks it's cute how they look big on you

✧bf!hanma he likes PDA, Hanma is shameless

✧bf!hanma he said I love you first, which surprised both of you, just slipped out while he was watching you do something

✧bf!hanma night motorcycle rides, sometimes he accelerates just to feel you hold on tightly

✧bf!hanma your personal photographer, no matter the background scenery, you are the one who makes the photo beautiful

✧bf!hanma he says he's with the most attractive person in the world, he's a bit cheesy

✧bf!hanma small displays of affection, like giving you his coat in the cold or holding your hand

✧bf!hanma he loves making you smile, he's funny

✧bf!hanma he won't admit it, but he likes it when you play with his hair, it makes him sleepy

✧bf!hanma if you can't travel with him, Hanma will send you the photos he took, especially from the places he'd like to take you

✧bf!hanma he moves a little during sleep, maybe you'll get some kicks in the middle of the night

✮bf!hanma his hands are always snaking through your body like it's second nature to him

✮bf!hanma risky sex, Hanma loves adrenaline and won't hold back

✮bf!hanma he'll mark your neck so everyone can see who you belong to

✮bf!hanma he's dominant to a certain extent, he likes the little game of who's going to dominate in bed and then he's going to bend you

✮bf!hanma he loves to see your beautiful lips around his cock, he will always use the hand of 'sin' to guide his head

✮bf!hanma the hand of 'punishment' will always be on your waist or ass

✮bf!hanma denial/overstimulation he's wicked :(

✮bf!hanma it goes deep, you swear you can feel it in your throat

✮bf!hanma rough sex for sure, days without walking

✮bf!hanma he gets so hard when you sit on his face ♡

✮bf!hanma he will whisper the most unpleasant things in your ear, especially if you behave like a brat

✮bf!hanma loves to play with her nipples, biting and twisting them just to elicit a moan of pain his

✮bf!hanma he loves to hear you whimper, it makes his cock twitch inside you

✮bf!hanma he never gets tired of filling you, Hanma thinks it's beautiful how his sperm leaks out of your hole and then he'll push it back in ♡

©Reblogs are welcome, do not copy or translate

#☾ ⋆⁺₊Makiᡣ𐭩 #hanma shuji #shuji hanma #shuji hanma x reader #shuji hanma smut #shuji hanma x you #shuji hanma headcanons #hanma smut #hanma x reader #hanma x you #tokyo revengers #tokrev #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers hanma

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starcurtain · 1 month

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Interpreting Aventurine's Situation

(HSR 2.1 spoilers, watch out!) I think one of my favorite things to come out of Penacony is that the plot has left us with two completely opposite but equally valid interpretations of Aventurine's character. Is he a chosen child or just a "lucky" dog? The story leaves the door wide open for both possibilities.

Under a read more for space:

One Interpretation: Unfortunately for Him, Aventurine is Actually Blessed by an Aeon

If you work from the assumption that the Avgin mythology is correct, and Gaiathra Triclops is actually real (possibly a minor aeon of an unknown path or Ena, if you're on that train), then it's entirely possible, in game, that Aventurine has been blessed by a goddess to the point that he functionally cannot lose any gamble he makes. The odds are, literally, ever in his favor. In this interpretation, it doesn't matter how many gambles he takes with his life as the chip because he will always succeed. Despite how risky his behavior looks to everyone else, he's actually been perfectly safe all along.

But this is especially tragic because it means that, despite his mother's and sister's belief that his blessing will help everyone in their tribe, Aventurine's blessing has only ever extended to himself. He's not an omen of good fortune for his people. His luck was never going to protect his parents, sister, or friends. The goddess of the Avgin chose just one person and left the rest of her people to die.

This is where Aventurine's doubts stem from. He asks repeatedly: If the goddess can bless people, then why is life so miserable for the Avgin? Why do they have to live in pain, suffering, fear, and abject poverty if she could make them lucky enough to thrive? Why do people live if it's just going to be horrible?

(To be honest, I don't think this is out of line for the behavior we've seen of aeons so far. Even with aeons like Yaoshi, described as gentle and benevolent, with no intention to cause harm, their gifts often create horror in the human world.)

Aventurine's hands still tremble when he bets. He doesn't really believe he's blessed and still expects his own downfall at every turn--but it's never going to come because he is one of the few human beings in the entire universe with the direct favor of an aeon. Even Ratio, a skeptical, evidence-based genius, seems to think this might be the case.

(Choosing the Chinese because the text is a little clearer than the English, but basically: "This guy always has a way of dragging himself up out of the abyss, which can't be explained by just 'good luck.' Everyone is waiting to see him fail... Maybe even he's waiting too. But as time passed, I couldn't help but wonder: Will that day really come?")

This means Aventurine has lived a life of fear and uncertainty for nothing. He's spent his entire life awaiting a failure and painful death that will never come. He can't recognize the love of his own goddess nor trust in the faith of his own family.

The central question of this interpretation becomes "What does it mean for a single human to be favored by an aeon?" Can Aventurine really be called lucky after losing every single thing that has meaning in his life--all because an aeon chose him and only him? Should that be called a blessing or a curse?

The Opposite Interpretation: Aventurine Isn't Lucky At All, He's Just Skilled

On the other hand, the story leaves the door open to interpret Aventurine's situation in the complete opposite manner too. If, as the IPC seems to think, Gaiathra Triclops isn't real and Aventurine isn't blessed at all, then that means every single risk Aventurine has taken has actually been life-threatening--and that every single achievement he's reached has been by his own merits alone.

If Gaiathra's blessing isn't real, then Aventurine's life becomes one long self-run psyop: Everyone tells him he's blessed, he's lucky, he's favored--so young Kakavasha starts gambling early. Banking on this idea that he's favored, that he's chosen, he starts paying attention, he learns the tricks of the trade, figures out how to slip cards up his sleeves, how to word things just right so people will take his bait--he practices, practices, practices, until he can spot winning odds a mile away, until he can predict every possible outcome, until he's seen it all before.

In this situation, every single gamble he's ever made or will make carries a very, very real risk of failure--but Aventurine continues to succeed because he's just that quick-witted, just that aware, just that good at reading people. (He's been doing it for so much longer than everyone else he meets, after all.) He is the gambler extraordinaire, the archetypal charming rogue who can squirm his way out of any tight spot he gets into, time and time again.

He fears every gamble he makes because he has good reason to--there's literally never any guarantee that he will succeed, and he's constantly just flipping a coin to see what outcome he'll get. His personal skill and quick wit continue to turn things in his favor, but it's inevitable that one day he'll meet a situation that outwits him, a gamble where only a supernatural force could have saved him. And if you take this second interpretation, Gaiathra isn't real, so there won't be one.

This story choice would be interesting because it implies a greater degree of responsibility for everything that happens. If it's Aventurine's own quick wit and skill that continually save him, shouldn't he be able to help others with that skill? Shouldn't he have been able to help himself? How was he able to save himself from death but not from slavery? If it was skill, not luck, all along, then who do you blame for all the misery he still experienced?

This interpretation leads to greater questions of self-doubt and anxiety: Is it actual skill or just sheer dumb luck? Does Aventurine have what it takes mentally, psychologically, emotionally, and even physically to always come out on top by his own merits, or is he just the benefit of the wheel of fortune--statistically speaking, a one in a million chance still has to come through for that one, right? And when it all comes crumbling down eventually, will he have only himself to blame?

A Life of Uncertainty

The story doesn't actually give us any firm indication whether Gaiathra is real or not, or--even if she is real--if Aventurine is actually genuinely blessed. We just don't know, as players.

And Aventurine doesn't know either.

His faith in the goddess of the Avgin is shaky. He seems to want to believe and hold on to his people's mythology, but he has valid doubts that a goddess would choose to bless one person while leaving everyone else to suffer.

Is he the chosen of an aeon? And if he isn't chosen, then what meaning does any of it have? Is he just unbelievably skilled? Has he merely been lucky up to now? When will this blessing or luck or skill finally fail him?

Aventurine's most defining character trait is the extreme uncertainty that has plagued his whole life. What is true? What should he believe? Is he blessed or cursed? Does he have the talent to back up his massive boasts? Should others put any faith in him--should he put any faith in himself? Should he cling to his people's beliefs or reject the goddess that left him the sole survivor of a cultural extinction?

He can't trust anything. He can't trust his family's faith; he can't trust that he's actually a "chosen one" (because how could he chosen and his family be left to die?). He can't even trust that he's lucky because maybe it was just the years of suffering practice he put in. Then again, he can't trust in his own skill because maybe he's just blessed?

Which is it? Which is it? Which is it?

Nothing is certain. Nothing can be taken for granted. Nothing can be proven empirically true or false. There are no guarantees for Aventurine.

Every single thing in his life is a gamble, and none of that is his fault.

What an amazing character. What a great story. Thank you for the treat, Hoyo!

#aventurine #honkai star rail #hsr meta #aventurine meta #alternate character interpretations #gaiathra #damned if you do #damned if you don't #2.1 spoilers #penacony spoilers

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zwedexx · 4 months

Text

AWFC x English-Italian Reader - Introduction

Summary: Reader is playing in a champions league game and get severely injured

TW: Injury?

WC: 645

A/N: Injury won the polls so injury it is. Nothing is proof read. The angsty and more serious stuff starts with the Chapters. Also this is my version of the Arsenal-Lyon game (December 15, 2022). I think the 1 or 2 next chapter will go from December 2022 to ~December 2023. Anyways, share your opinions and suggestions. Also requests are open and I'd really love to try my hand at requests so please submit some.

You joined Arsenal at a young age, 17 years old. You were a bombshell when you landed in the WSL. You might have grown up in England but you were Italian by birth and ancestry. You brought 3 Italian things with you, your defensive style, hand gestures and a last name no commentator could pronounce properly.

You quickly gained a reputation for being fearless LB, you weren’t necessarily a dirty player but you had being compared to Katie a few times. You were willing to make a risky tackle or sacrifice your body if it meant you’d stop a goal. You were never the tallest on the team, that distinction going to the Swedes and you weren’t the biggest but you had heart and stupidity.

Now here you were a full year, 4 goals, 5 yellows and 1 red later standing in the tunnel of a group stage champions league match against Lyon.

You felt this odd sense of nervousness, this was your first start in a champions league game but it was unusual for you. You were taken out of your thoughts when you felt Viv’s arms on your shoulders as she guided you out of the tunnel.

The match was quite uneventful for the majority of the first half, Lyon had some good chances and so did Arsenal. Your nerves had calmed down, you were focused. You had even stopped a breakaway from Malard.

Lyon’s best chance was in 45’+1. Bacha had a free kick from right before the halfway line. She passed it to Morroni then it came back to Bacha who launched the ball over the crowd. You had been tracking Gilles, the Lyon centerback, you knew she was excellent with her head and if it touched the ball it was sure to be a goal. You saw the ball fly over, hit Horan and go back up into the air. You jumped high, trying to reach the ball before Gilles can get a head to it and you succeeded. You felt the ball hit your head and you loosed up a bit, forgetting that the opposing player head was still in motion. Instead of heading the ball, Gilles collided with the side of your head. You feel a sharp excruciating pain, something you’d never experienced before then nothing. You were out.

“Y/N.” You could hear a faint sound of someones voice shouting your name.

“Y/N can you hear me.”

You tried to move, tried to open your eyes but you felt trapped in your own body. Nothing wanted to work. It’d take a few moments before you’d gotten some control back and you were able to open your eyes.

You were completely surrounded by medical staff, it was sort of overwhelming but you were able to spot the voice calling you, Leah. You could see the worry and panic in her face, you wanted to give her a smile or a sign that you’d be okay but it was hard enough to keep your eyes open. The medics were attempting to speak to you but their words were just faded noises and before they were able to finish you felt your eyes roll to the back of your head and you were out once more.

The next you remembered was machines beeping. This incessant beeping that made your head hurt each time it went off. Waking up this time was far easier, you had more control and you felt a little more awake.

“Y/N, for the love of god please tell me something. “ Leah had notice you’d woken up, Jordan had also been in the room but was asleep on the couch next to 4 other bags likely from other teammates that had stepped out.

“Y/N, can you understand me.” Leah asked again, hoping, praying for any response.

“Leah… What- What happened” you croaked out.

Leah face lit up from your response but there was pain behind eyes. You could see tears begin to well up.

“Too much, Y/N/N, too much.”

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leahluvr · 7 months

Text

surprise - caitlin foord x reader

genre: pure fluff, babyfic, mum!caitlin

warnings: swearing

(requested)

____________________________________________

in the quiet sanctuary of your english flat, you cradled charlotte in your arms, her mouth connected to your breast. she was almost 4 months now, growing bigger by the day, closer to the age of being able to follow in the footsteps of her other mother.

the decision weighed heavily on your mind; should you travel with caitlin back to her home town in australia for the world cup, risking constant travel with your precious baby girl, alone? caitlin, however, did not ponder over the question; ever caring and protective, she cited her concern for your’s and charlotte’s well-being, advising against you travelling overseas.

“yn, baby,” caitlin said gently, her eyes searching yours, “i know how much you want to be there, and it means so much to me, but it’s too risky, especially with char being so young still. we’ve never travelled long distance with her and you’d be doing it alone. if you stay with me, you’d be constantly catching flights and i just can’t imagine how bloody stressful that’d be. i cant bear the thought of anything bad happening to either you.”

you sighed, torn between the desire to support the love of your life and your longing to share the momentous events with her.

“cait, i get where you’re coming from, but i can’t help but feel as if we should be there to cheer you on, support you. you deserve so much love and support; i mean, it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity; a home-soil tournament!”

caitlin’s expressions softened at your enthusiasm, her love for you and your daughter evident her gaze. you lifted charlotte upright to burp her, gently tapping her back.

“babe, i want you both there at my home more than anything, i don’t doubt that. mum and jamie’d love to see charlotte, but i don’t wanna ignore the possible dangers. you can watch the matches here; i promise i’ll carry all your love and support while i step on the field, each game.”

in respect of caitlin’s concern you’d made the decision to stay home in north london, looking after your baby. what you didn’t expect was the matilda’s to progress so far in the world cup. it had been weeks since the kick-off for the international tournament, and to be honest, you’d thought australia would have been knocked out by this point, caitlin at home in bed with you watching the rest of the cup on tv. but that didn’t happen; they had gotten into the semi finals. you had jumped up and down screaming when courtnee had scored the determining goal against france, which in turn, caused charlotte to start crying from the loud noise.

“hey baby, was i a bit too loud, hm? i’m so sorry,” you stood and rocked your body, quietly shushing her, “mama’s going to the semi finals!”

from the moment the last ball was kicked, slipping through the french keeper’s fingers, you picked up your phone to call leah.

“hey it’s yn, i need to ask you a favour, lee.”

not long later, you would open your eyes from a nap, seeing leah sitting next to you on a plane, charlotte pressed against her chest sleeping comfortably, while leah intently watched a movie on the screen in front of her.

despite the fact that leah had only discovered a couples of days ago and to her shock, of your’s and caitlin’s daughter’s existence, that you were still together, and engaged, she still stepped up to work and help you. prior to the flight, you had agreed on taking turns on looking after charlotte, ensuring the two of you got sufficient rest before the game. when charlotte cried, you always took over, the baby preferring her mum for comfort. the trip worked out perfectly, and you didn’t have a single thing to complain about, thanks to the help of leah.

on the day of the semi final, you found yourself in the stands, a sea of both australian and english flags, signs and costumes surrounding you. charlotte in her mum’s foord kit and ear muffs on, let her wide eyes wander over the bright colours around her.

although the outcome of the game was a loss, you still walked down the stands to honour the girls their history-making game.

mackenzie had her arm slung around caitlin’s shoulder as a form of comfort, as your fiancés had tears welling up in her eyes. all the other teammates walked close behind them, in the vicinity to hear maccas loud voice talking.

“hey is that yn? like your ex?” mackenzie said in a baffled tone, using a finger to point towards the crowd where she had spotted you, subsequently drawing the attention of the team with her exclamation, “is she fucking holding a baby? who’s baby is that?”

“what? where?” caitlin said, frantically scanning the crowd with her eyes.

caitlin’s eyes widened in disbelief, making eye contact with you, her heart skipping a beat. there you were, the one person she wished she could see the most moments after the final whistle was blown.

she sprinted over to you, ignoring the fans that called for her, wanting to get their goods signed. you reached out to pass charlotte from above the stands, placing her in caitlin’s safe hands. mackenzie, who went to chase caitlin, following close behind her, was at a loss for words when she was left carrying the mystery baby when caitlin had forced her to carry her.

“here, can you take her for a sec,” caitlin said.

your fiancé reached her arms up to the stands, assisting in your attempt to climb down safely to the pitch. it wasn’t long before she had her arms tightly wrapped around you in an embrace, pulling away and pressing a hard, emotion-filled kiss to your lips.

“i cant believe you’re here,” she whispered.

“we couldn’t miss this moment, baby. we’re always going to cheer you on and i’m so proud of you…plus i missed you too much,” you smiled at her, flicking to look at both of eyes.

caitlin didn’t say a word to mackenzie when she grabbed the baby off her, scattering kisses over face and making her baby giggle and excitedly murmur incoherent words.

“hey char, mama missed you so much! were you good to mummy on the plane, hm? i love you!” caitlin put on a baby voice, continuing to press kisses to little charlotte’s face.

“what the actual fuck, caitlin,” macca said, staring at caitlin, you and charlotte and the same.

caitlin looked at her sheepishly and mumbled a quick ‘i’m sorry.’

she continued to carry charlotte with one of her hands intertwined with yours, as the group of you made your way to the other matilda’s.

“hey guys, you already know yn, um, she’s my fiancé, but you guys haven’t met our baby yet so, say hi to charlotte!”

there was a collection of squeals and gasps from the girls, crowding around caitlin to get a good look at your baby girl.

“so you never broke up with her?” mackenzie came behind you with the question.

“nah, we had a very successful go with ivf and then i had this little sucker cooking up in me,” you gestured towards your abdomen, looking over at caitlin, “she wanted to wait until she was born to tell everyone, so yeah.”

“i cant believe she didn’t tell me.” macca scoffed jokingly, “i’m her best friend!”

after the crowd around charlotte had slightly dissipated, you made your way beside your fiancé, pressing a kiss to her cheek and leaning down pressing one to charlotte forehead.

jordan had run over from the english team celebration to see all the commotion around caitlin. she asked to hold charlotte and looked after her while you and caitlin talked.

“how’d you even manage to travel alone, i told you not to,” caitlin looked at you with an upset face, conflicted about being excited that you were here with her but still ever so concerned about you.

“leah helped, we took turns looking after her on the plane, i owe her a big one,” you comforted her worry.

nobbs had overheard your conversation, though.

“my ex-girlfriend got to meet this adorable thing before i did?!” jordan complained while pointing to charlottes smiling face, “wait till katie gets the news, you’re dealing with her, not me.”

“she’ll be right,” caitlin laughed, “especially after she sees this little puddin’s face.”

____________________________________________

an: sorry for any grammatical errors i kind of rushed this. ik this won’t get much attention cos it’s caitlin but i love her and she’s underrated so actually idgaf 🥸

#caitlin foord x reader #caitlin foord imagines #caitlin foord #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #arsenal wfc #auswnt #woso #woso community #auswnt x reader #arsenal wfc x reader

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xhdream · 3 months

Text

LOSER(S)

01. a souvenir from my biggest fan | 18+

pairing: youtuber theo x fem!reader

genre: smut w/ a sprinkle of plot wc: 2.9k

summary: the charming guy running the youtube channel you enjoy watching mostly because of him and not the games he’s playing, moves in the apartment across from yours, and turns out to be the biggest asshole you’ve encountered in years

chapter contains: switch!reader, unprotected sex, cussing, dirty talk, choking (m), oral (f), orgasm denial

a/n: please, keep in mind english is not my first language, i apologise in advance for any mistakes i’ve might missed

!! this is pure fiction for entertainment purposes

📁 loser(s) masterlist

“Wow, you’re an asshole in real life,” you keep talking bitterly with little flames in your eyes. “I’m actually impressed with your acting skills.”

A frustrated airy laugh slips through your lips while Taeyang’s, on the other hand, curl up at the corners, amused at how seriously you’re taking this whole situation.

“Sorry to ruin the little fantasy you had of me, sweetheart.”

“You should be glad that I prefer to spend my time doing anything else than dealing with you,” you turn to your front door and flip the key, “cause I can just call the cops.”

“Are you sure that’s what you really prefer?”

This is not the first time you’re fighting Choi Taeyang in the middle of the hallway, nor it’s the last unless you move buildings. His youtube channel is growing rapidly which calls for more content and less peace for you.

He's still leaning against the door frame with his headset hanging from his neck. The subtle mischievous spark in his eyes, the one you know so well from the multiple videos you’ve seen from him, is so different in real life - straight up mean, making you wonder how you used to find his channel fun and comforting despite the terrifying games he plays.

“You’re at my fucking door almost every single night,” he continues. “Maybe I should call them, you seem more of a stalker than a marketing manager.”

“Fuck off,” you spit out entering your apartment. “You’re a pathetic loser with no life.”

“Bitch.” Taeyang slams the door of his home the second you shut yours.

A month ago you couldn't wait to finish work and hop on the bus to head back home.

Now, you go home on foot so it can take you extra minutes to arrive.

The time you finish work is the time Taeyang comes back from the gym, and by the hour you're lounging in bed ready to relax with your new favorite show is the hour he turns on the usual scary games, and transforms your cozy time in a mirage. Today is going to be no different, because he has zero empathy for people’s feelings, so you take your time even with walking towards the elevator after you arrive at your apartment building.

“Wait!”

You make out the too familiar voice echoing in the hallway along with the stamping sound of his footsteps just when you press the button.

Taeyang runs through the open doors, and you walk in after him faking a smile. His ebony black hair is half wet and his outfit casual, consisting only of a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt under his unzipped hoodie. Judging by the bag with beer cans in his hand your guesses are correct - his workout is done and he's going to take his seat in front of the computer.

The unnerving silence fills the air the second the doors close in front of your eyes.

“Next time fill up your mouth with your panties or something,” Taeyang glances up at the changing neon numbers. “What if you accidentally scream my name? I don’t wanna hear that.”

He fakes a disgusted expression and shakes his shoulders as an attempt to get rid of the image in his head.

You knew putting your earphones in to blast music as you use your vibrator is risky since sometimes you tend to be more vocal than others, but what were you supposed to do when all of his exaggerated yelling and cussing comes through the wall exactly where your bed is?

You can’t touch yourself during the day because you’re at work, and now you can’t do it before sleep because of him.

Your fake chuckle rings hollow in the small space. You look away, but you cannot escape his face though. You both see each other in the reflecting glass that’s all around you; it’s a little blurry, but not enough to not be aware that you’re staring at each other.

“Good to know you take off that headset once in a while.” You raise your chin up. “Maybe I should touch myself more often if that’s gonna help a loser like you get a life.”

The doors slide open, and you walk out first, feeling Taeyang’s gaze all over your ass.

“Is your boring corporate job stressing you out, sweetheart?” He calls out behind you, as you walk down the corridor. “Is that why you’re taking your anger out on me since day one?”

“I love my job,” you say when he catches up your pace.

“And you hate mine.”

“Because of you,” you glare at him, stopping in front of your apartment. You don’t even realise when you started raising your voice. “It’s your lack of responsibility and consideration I have a problem with, not what you do.”

“Shh, you’re going to disturb the neighbours.” Taeyang puts a finger on his lips, and for the first time you feel the urge to slap a person.

He comes closer to you while staring at your cleavage. It’s flushed with a delicate reddish color that he could associate only with himself and the emotions he brings within you.

“Do you want me to help you out with that? I can help you relieve some of the pressure, doll… most of it.”

You breathe in once, looking in his eyes.

You breathe in twice… recognising the fresh earthy aroma coming from his skin and damp hair.

It’s not your voice that gives him an answer, but your lips that smash against his own.

That’s exactly what Taeyang hoped for, and his arms immediately go around your waist, pulling you close after he drops the bag of beer cans on the ground. His hands slide down to grip your ass cheeks through the linen fabric of your pants, that’s too thin and his cock already starts to gain pressure from how much it allows him to feel in his palms.

“My place or yours?” You pull back just to ask the question then kiss him again.

Taeyang’s hands go up, sneaking under your shirt.

“You already know what my room looks like, it’s time I see yours.”

“That’s fair.”

He doesn’t leave you out of sight as he gets rid of his clothes while you unbutton your shirt. Once you’re left in your lingerie he doesn’t give you a chance to remove it, because he pushes you onto the bed, covering your skin with wet kisses. You look gorgeous in it anyways, so he doesn’t mind if it stays on a little longer.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot,” he mutters against the flesh of your tummy before grinding his tongue up to your bellybutton. His hands are squishing your breasts harshly making you gasp. “Fuck, drives me crazy.”

His teeth bite the hem of your lace panties, pull and let it drop with a smack.

When he moves up to lock lips with yours again they seem to move even more eagerly than minutes before. His tongue invades your mouth almost with a frustration, leaving you out of breath and panting for more.

But you rather get that yourself.

“What the—“ He stumbles around his words surprised from suddenly finding himself on his back.

You swiftly succeed in straddling his hips as he didn’t have the chance to react in time to prevent you from getting on top.

“Shut up,” you say, unclipping your bra and rubbing your clit on his stiffened length at the same time. You still have your panties on and you see his gaze darkening from wanting to rip them off. “Mm, your cock is so hard...”

“Take it in your greedy mouth then.” He grips your hips forcing them to move quicker. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“Yeah, but that would be too easy.”

Taeyang laughs before grabbing your arms to bring your face down into his.

You gasp through a smile creeping up on your face. You can’t hide the enjoyment from his rough responses to every single thing you do.

“These tricks don’t work on me, doll. Be a good girl and do as I say from now on.”

“You’re not the only player here, pretty boy.” You pull his bottom lip with your teeth, and his erection twitches against your clit, both from the bite and your attitude. “I will suck your dick when I decide you’ve earned it.”

Before you realise a thing, Taeyang flips you over and strips you from your panties pushing them inside your mouth. His hands bend your knees with fingers digging into your skin finally spreading you apart. As his mouth waters from the seductive sight of what’s between your thighs, yours spit out the underwear.

“Tsk,” Taeyang picks it up, and muffles your irritated whines by returning them back where they were. “What an ungrateful doll. I’m doing you a favor and this is how you say thank you?”

He holds his palm over your lips to keep the fabric in place while his other one gives your right boob a slap followed by a few more after he catches you make a muffled pleasant sound.

Eventually the grumpy look on your face dissipates into a rapture as the pleasure from his tongue comes in waves, each more powerful than the other. He alternates between sucking and lapping on your juices while also playing with the pacing of his licks over your bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, you taste too sweet for such an angry girl,” he groans before gliding his tongue through your sloppy folds only to swirl the tip of it around your clit again.

And you eat pussy too well for such a loser.

Your chin begins to leak from your drooling, slipping down your neck as your panties get soaked with your moans and spit. The fact you’re not able to be loud as you need to makes your jaw clench with frustration, but your pussy even more aroused under Taeyang’s tongue.

His grip on your thighs tighten painfully limiting your shakiness as he buries his coarse mouth even deeper, grazing his teeth against your intimate lips; tongue tracing stripes from your dripping hole up to your most sensitive point over and over again. He makes out with your entire cunt the same way he kisses you - mean with a desire to control.

“I can make it feel even better if you promise not to empty your filthy mouth,” he glances at you, giving you a nice view of all the glistening fluids all over his face.

You nod too quickly, you realise, but most of the stubbornness left you the moment his tongue touched you for the first time.

You grip the sheets cause your fingers are already tempted to pull out the underwear the more his swollen tip levels with your entrance.

You’ve never taken such big size before and your heart starts racing excitedly at the thought of the appealing girth sinking inside you.

“Shit,” Taeyang’s brows knit together while his length fills you up bit by bit, tightening the knot of pleasure in his core. “You’re too fuckin’ small and tight for me.”

He inserts it all the way slowly, wanting you to feel the way you suck in with ease every inch of him; wanting you to know just how bad you needed him. However, once it’s in, his patience dies down giving his hips the freedom to move as quickly as possible.

Taeyang runs a hand through his dark hair, then moves it over your lower tummy, pressing against his cock that’s reaching the desired spot over and over again. His sharp gaze follows your eyes fluttering in bliss, as the rush he creates invades your body.

Once he leans in to hang your right leg over his shoulder for a deeper thrust, your repressed mewls rise even higher; erotic heavy growls just like in the videos he watches to jerk off.

“We get along so much better when you have your mouth shut, don’t you think?” He fans your face while holding himself up on his hands.

A groan escapes his puffy lips before he could catch it after you bury fingers in his hair and tug on the roots, pulling him closer.

With one tilt of his head Taeyang drops your panties down after stealing them from your mouth with his teeth.

“Mind if I keep those?” He asks and receives the sound of the first real raw moans of yours as an answer.

It would be a foolish lie if he says he won’t be thinking about them after this.

“A souvenir from my biggest fan…” He whispers in your ear and you can feel the intoxicating effect that his voice alone has on you.

His hips slow down for the first time, moving slowly in circles while he catches his breath.

“Shit, Tae… Faster.” You pull his hair like you’re holding on for dear life, as you sense every inch of him making you more dizzy with those slow massaging motions.

“Faster?” He repeats with a sudden powerful slam from his hips, that catches you off guard. “Are you close?” He pulls out almost all the way only to shove himself again, stabbing your g-spot. “Wanna cum… is that it?”

“Yeah…” Your whimper gets lost from the lewd noises when he proceeds to pound into you, but this time rapidly without stopping for a second. The skin on skin slapping merges with Taeyang’s hitched heavy breathing, but he still manages to catch the little broken yes-es coming from underneath him. “Fuck—“

Your mouth remains open, but not because your awaited climax arrives, but because Taeyang pulls out just before it does.

The burning dissatisfaction from what was about to be your most intense orgasm being stolen from you forces you to turn over and wail in your pillow.

“Shhh,” Taeyang turns you back around, slapping your inner thigh with his drenched cock. Your squirmy lips bring a devilish smirk on his face. “It’s not that bad, doll. You can take it.”

A moment later his eyes watch you suspiciously raising up.

You grab the base of his dick determined to take charge.

“I wanted to cum so bad from this pretty cock,” you coo moving your fist up and down, as he rests on his knees in front of you with his unbelievably captivating plump lips and cold gaze.

His face begins to scrunch up from your quickening hand, and the way your playful thumb keeps going over his red tip like it knows just when is the perfect time to do it.

“I’ve never had such a big one in my pussy before…” You add on to his arousal. “Feels nice.”

“Shit,” Taeyang throws his head back. His chest rises heavily while his abs clench from the stimulation. “Just nice?” He lifts up to look at you challengingly. It drives him nuts how you always lit up a fire in his chest by irritating him, and turning him on at the same time.

“Go on…” You provoke him, squeezing the leaky shape of his head. “You’ve called me worse than that.”

Taeyang gulps when you drop his erection only to grip it with your aroused walls instead. You both sigh in sync as you get in contact with the electrifying warmth once again, that now feels ten times more intense.

Although it’s subtle, you don’t miss the change in his expression when you begin to bounce just like you wanted to in the beginning.

“Don’t.” You command the second you sense the presence of his hands on your waist, desperate to regain control. “You’re going to let me do this.”

You quicken your movements, watching him chew on his mouth from the overwhelming rush he desperately tries to keep under control.

“Why…” Taeyang’s voice comes out too breathless to continue his question. The fact your hand wraps around his throat to put pressure on the sides of his neck doesn’t help either. This is the first time he allows something like this, and it makes his heart flutter from an unfamiliar thrill.

“Why what, pretty boy?” You slow down, curious to know what he’s thinking right now.

Taeyang only shakes his head, turning his knuckles white from gripping the sheets. He wants to push you on your back, to cuss at you and fuck you until you’re sore, and can’t mutter a single word to him… but he’s captivated. It’s like every time you touch him you secretly cast a spell on him that he’s unable to break through.

The only thing he could say is…

“Just… keep going.”

You smile, tilting his chin higher to meet his eyes.

The speed of your lower body picks up when you begin to ride him chasing your high - with the head of his cock kissing right where you need it, and the most arousing sounds slipping from his lips that begin to pout with every next move.

“Holy s-shit—“ Taeyang chokes on his moan moving his hands on your waist, but not interrupting your movements. “Y/N…”

“Not yet,” you say, feeling shivers down your spine from the way he pants your name. “Wait for me.” You release his throat, trying your best to keep the rapid pace going.

Taeyang cusses in the crook of your neck where he starts biting harshly to distract himself from how bad he needs to cum, not caring at all that you keep hissing from his sucking.

“Can’t…” he grunts against the wet skin under your earlobe. “Fuck, come on, cream my cock you slut.” He grabs a handful of your hair, and that turns out to be just enough to snap the overwhelming knot in your tummy.

You rock your hips back and forth more slowly, panting as the ecstatic rush passes through your veins when suddenly Taeyang’s weak husky voice surprises you.

“You’re amazingly hot.”

Your two fingers slip through his lips and he allows that too.

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

↳ next chapter

#— loser(s)#p1harmony smut #p1h smut #p1harmony hard thoughts #p1harmony hard hours #p1h hard thoughts #taeyang hard thoughts #theo hard thoughts #taeyang smut #taeyang x reader #theo smut #theo x reader #piwon smut #piwon x reader

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mortala-if · 5 months

Text

Mortala, the word, derives from the Latin adjective "Mortalis." meaning "subject to death." Comparable to the English word "Mortal." meaning the same. —

You live in a rotting world. And that's not a metaphor.

You've known that since you can remember. It's a fact that's been drilled into your mind on repeat.

A rotting world that you must not explore. Stay where you are, stay where you're familiar with, stay where you're comfortable— In The Cinders with your older brother.

The Cinders might not look pretty, but it's not horrible. Steer clear of most streets, keep your head down, don't poke around in other people's business, and you'll be fine. You've learned to navigate pretty well, not to toot your own horn.

Plus, you've got a job, and so does your brother. Not good ones, but ones that can, with a joint salary, keep a crumbling roof over your heads. —

Another thing that's been forced into your mind since you were spoon-fed is to never, ever disobey Belamour.

Belamour is a peaceful organization that was made to keep you safe. To do this, they have strict laws in place, and officers crawl over the cities to make sure you follow them. They are not a government, and they make it very known that they are not.

If you fail to obey, you'll get sent to your city's rehabilitation center! Isn't that nice? Or, on the worse side, you can end up in the Belamour Rehabilitation Center all the way in The Frost.

You and your brother made an agreement when you were very little that you would stick together, and neither of you would break any of the rules for fear of being sent to a rehabilitation center.

. . . An agreement your brother broke.

Now you have to find out how to get him the fuck out of there.

Mortala is a 16+ game due to explicit language, violence, death, anxiety, mention of past emotional abuse (not of MC), messy relationships, and more. A detailed trigger warning list will be listed before every chapter.

Customize the flawed main character, ranging from their gender to their style. (Semi-set personality. Set last name and age.)

Make risky choices that might result in you dying or being injured.

Build relationships between characters, romanceable and not.

Finally wipe The Cinders' ashes off you and explore more than just the burnt city you grew up in.

Go against everything you were taught growing up.

Lie to save your (and your brother's) skin.

These characters are not all romanceable, and you will not meet most of these characters until Chapter Two. Also, it's important to note that not all these characters have plot armor. This does not include sub-romances or all the characters you'll interact with.

FINNLEY ROSE. ✩ ---- Finnley has raised you since you were 5, making him 11 when you started to rely on him. You never really understood the gravity of that until you were in your late teenage years, and that's when you really started to appreciate him. You regret things you've said to him, how you've hurt him— and lately, with his absence, that's all you can think about. ---- His skin is a shade lighter than yours, the same textured hair as yours, and he has brown hooded eyes outlined with eyelashes that make you jealous. He stands at 6 feet, 2 inches. (187.96cm)

HIRO LA'EI. ✩ ---- Hiro has been your best friend since you were in diapers. You know everything about him, and he knows everything about you. You genuinely think he might be one of the sweetest people alive, despite what others might assume, and he jumps at the chance to help you with anything. . . ---- He has tan skin, wavy dark brown hair, and pretty doe-like brown eyes. He stands at 5 feet, 10 inches. (177.8cm) ! Option to have a crush on him— it goes nowhere, though.

MEDUSA CALIXTE. ♡ ---- Medusa. What can you say about Medusa? To put it plainly, she's your best friend's ex-girlfriend. She broke up with him and gave no reason. At the time of their relationship, you thought she was. . . interesting, for lack of a better word, and when she left your best friend, it took a huge toll on him, and from the looks of it, it barely affected her. ---- She has russet brown skin, coiled light brown hair, often shoulder-length and worn in dreads, and upturned hazel eyes. She stands at 5 feet, 2 inches. (157.48cm)

MONROE HALILI. ♡ ---- Your brother's best friend. They're concerned, and not just about their best friend. They're observant, annoyingly so, and can tell how bad his leave has affected you. Obviously, due to their status, they've taken it upon themselves to check on you- wanted or not. ---- They have deep tawny skin, curly black hair with white underneath, and dark brown monolid eyes framed with long, naturally curled eyelashes. He stands at 6 feet tall. (182.88cm) ! Option to have a childhood crush on them. (Three-year age gap.)

LIVIA ALARIE. ✩ ---- Monroe's daughter. From what you heard from your brother, she's incredibly timid- Oh, and she's smiled at him. (He wouldn't shut up about it for a week.) You've never seen her or talked to her yet. ---- She has tawny skin, wavy black hair that reaches below her ears, and dark brown almond eyes. She stands at 3 feet, 7 inches. (109.22cm)

VIVIAN DE LA CRUZ. ♡ ---- Your ex. You still think about them occasionally— you don't date someone for 5 years and forget about them even if you want to. You don't like how things ended, but you don't know if you want to see them again. ---- They have warm golden skin, light blue wavy hair, and downturned brown eyes. They stand at 6ft, 1 inch. (185.42cm) ! Details of the past relationship in their character profile.

Character profiles

Hiro La'ei Medusa Calixte Monroe Halili Vivian de la Cruz

Informational posts

The Cities Belamour Organization

Outside of Tumblr links

Playlists Pinterest Demo/Proof of concept

Extra

My other interactive fiction blog @destined-if My personal account @bunnifly

Important

My banner is by Thomas Dubois This interactive fiction is very loosely inspired by The Hunger Games

Thank you for reading ♡

#interactive fiction #choicescript #dashingdon #romance #thriller #dystopian #sci fi #mortala #cog game #cog #hosted games #choice of games #if wip #interactive novel #if #if game #interactive game

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yzzart · 1 year

Note

hi love,

idk if ur taking requests (if ur not, pls ignore this then) but i absolutely love ur fics. could i maybe request more daemyra’s daughter and aemond, with overprotective daemon in the mix? nothing too specific, just daemon trying to keep his daughter away from her lovesick uncle, because he knows firsthand how that is.

im sorry for the delay, my love! school and work are killing me :((

— Father's Instinct

characters: Aemond Targaryen x (F)Targaryen!reader.

summary: Daemon just wanted his eldest daughter to stay away from a certain dragon but he was once that certain dragon with your mother.

warnings: incest, explicit language, explicit words, mention of violence but no deaths or injuries, and references to Daemon and Rhaenyra.

word count: 2.224!

english's not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes!

If Daemon had the right opportunity, he'd gouge out his nephew's only good eye right then and there.

It didn't matter if the sun was shining, with the birds singing, a prime and sacred time for some families. — By the scene he was watching carefully, Daemon would start to hate that whole morning.

He wouldn't be ashamed or trying to redeem himself for having a desire as bloody and deadly as that. — The last thing Daemon was going to do with his last breath was apologize for wanting to commit that act. — But he had a serious reason for it.

And it wasn't for any reason.

Daemon's lovable nephew, who was on the other side of the table, didn't hide his eyes on his daughter. — His first child. — The one-eyed prince's only good purple eye was gazing at the young Targaryen woman in the rebel prince's presence.

It wasn't difficult to identify that Aemond and you were exchanging looks, it looked like the two of you were playing with each other. — A simple little game that you unabashedly loved and was more exciting in the presence of everyone at the table.

It looked like the gods were playing with Daemon, a prank of sorts that was being frowned upon by the prince. — He knew he couldn't anger the gods but at that moment no one could quench a dragon's fury.

It was so ironic to see an uncle openly flirting with his niece without fear of her father's reaction or scolding, and years ago Daemon was in the same situation but being the uncle.

It was intriguing and interesting the fact that Aemond was focusing only on you at that well-manicured wooden table, as if there were only you at that moment. — But in the mind of the one-eyed that, in fact, was true.

The king's brother despised his nephew's action. Daemon didn't even know what feeling was taking over his body at the sight of his daughter being devoured by the one-eyed young man's only existing eye; it could be anger, hate, contempt or all at once. — The father's instinct screamed, mentally to Daemon.

Now Daemon knew, exactly, how Viserys felt.

You knew how risky it was to maintain eye contact with Aemond but it was impossible to stop your eyes from gazing at the prince. It felt like you were hypnotized by it, a kind of witchcraft but deep down you knew it wasn't. — You were in love with your uncle, just like your mother at your age was in love with hers; your father.

Even after your departure, you kept your feelings for Aemond. In your pure and naive age, you didn't believe that those feelings would expand and strengthen in a way that you couldn't believe but the good gods deceived your thoughts. All your passion and admiration for Aemond was as strong and steady as a dragon. — A dragon can recognize and strengthen its feelings.

From Aemond's perspective, every day and night since his departure for Dragonstone, he has thought of you. There was nothing that could take you out of the thoughts of the king's youngest son, absolutely nothing. — Of course, his mother noticed the sad features, both because of what happened with his eye and for the possible reason for his absence in the castle and in the little boy's life, at that time.

But that naive boy, unable to hold a wooden sword, had grown along with his love for you, and with the countless prayers to the gods asking you to return soon to his arms. — Aemond can't remember how many times his feet carried him to your old quarters.

"I hope you're off duty during this majestic morning, niece." — The admirable voice, loud enough for you to hear, was exclaimed directly into your ears. At no time did your eyes meet during the older man's speech, the two of you were trapped in each other's love and didn't want to miss any feature marks.

Aemond's greatest desire at that moment was to spend a moment with you, it would be pure greed if the gods said that the prince didn't just want to spend a moment with you, but the entire day. — And he waited for his plans with you to work out, the way he had planned.

Your father's jaw, after hearing the voice of the cursed one-eyed man, immediately locked itself. He recognized the way Aemond had said those words to you, he had interest and satisfaction. — Daemon could clearly state that his nephew was eagerly awaiting your answer.

It was pathetic how Daemon had looked like Viserys years ago.

"I predict that i will have the morning without appointments today, my uncle." — Your answer came softly from your lips. The way those words left your sweet, delicate lips caught Aemond's attention, he wanted so much to taste the glorious taste of your mouth. — "Would i be being impolite to ask the reason for the question?"

"It would be impolite if you did not accept my invitation to take a walk through the region, with our dragons, if you prefer." — Aemond brought the goblet, which held his favorite warm wine, to his lips and in no time did he dare take his eye away from you.

Daemon couldn't believe that damned one-eyed man, by the curse the good gods had sent the rebel prince deciding that young Targaryen would be his nephew, was trying to malign his dear daughter. — He knew very well how to recognize a tone of audacity and daring coming from another man.

You were Daemon's first child, the first of your name. The daughter he never thought in his life that he would adore, love and protect from anything that could hurt or threaten you. — As a great dragon would do with its helpless eggs.

Daemon could admit to the good gods that he never thought he would see himself as a good father, a father figure. He didn't believe that a child could make him happy or satisfied with the life he'd been given but from the looks of it, his lonely, pitiful thought was burned with his own dragon flames.

As his father's duty, Daemon would protect you from all the claws and teeth of all the men who tried to capture your naivety. — Including your uncle.

With a knife and fork in his hands, your father pounced on the rich deer meat, which had been forgotten for a little while, that was on his plate. The silverware hit the bottom of the plate with Daemon's brutality, making an unbearable sound. — Startled, you end up ending the exchange of looks between you and Aemond to focus on where the hellish noise had come from.

Your eyes landed on the image of your father, literally attacking the red flesh and making countless ear-splitting sounds. It didn't look like he just wanted to cut the meat, in fact it looked like he was imagining a person in the various cuts in the meat.

You couldn't say that scene scared you but it left you only surprised, the reason for that act was already very clear in your mind. — Even so, you didn't dare or feel like questioning your father's action. — The only thing you, mentally, begged him to use was that silverware on someone specific at that table.

Rhaenyra directed a hand on Daemon's arm, trying to calm him down and end that little aggressive act against the poor roasted, dead deer part. — Taking a deep breath, your father dropped the silverware on top of the plate and put his hand under his forehead.

Your eyes continued to stare at your father, without him noticing, hoping that there would be no more acts like that or even worse and soon, you chose to close the looks and remembered the lack of response to your uncle's suggestion. — Your beloved uncle.

"It would indeed be pleasant, uncle." — Your eyes returned to the feared and charming prince, who kept a thin smile and a mischievous tone on his lips. — "I just hope you're not out of shape for a nice dragon race." — Several low laughs echo around the table and you can identify which ones they belong to. — In addition to your brothers, Aegon participates in the group of laughter. — An amused and a little shy smile appeared on your sweet red lips.

Dragons couldn't die with fire, so they chose to play with it. It was such a determined and challenging thing to see. — And you loved doing it.

Across the damned seven realms, your teasing Aemond was an intriguing demonstration of how to play with fire and still right in front of everyone, including your father.

It would be risky to respond in kind, equally and return the provocative answer, but it was not exciting and fun without risks for the one-eyed prince, the rider of the largest dragon in the world. — Aemond was audacious. It can be said that his name can have many meanings and definitions, and the word audacity was included.

"Well, you need to see it and witness it to draw your conclusions, my niece." — He stated sharply and defiantly, those words were so penetrating and exciting at the same time. The expression of satisfaction and pure desire to know what that answer could have caused you was visible to all who decided to observe the prince's features.

From what it seemed, the simple game of looks had become a real game of temptation and fascination. — Your cheeks replaced your normal skin tone with a reddish tinge along with a slightly warm temperature. — Years and years may pass but Aemond would always have a power over you.

"By the seven hells." — Daemon grunted angrily, wanting to put the fork, left by his fingers and forgotten, into the single eye of that young Targaryen. In fact, he would have done so a long time ago, from his first mortal thought that morning, if it hadn't been for Viserys' presence.

Despite this, one side, known only to Daemon, recognized the nephew's actions, it seemed that he was seeing himself there and you resembled, perfectly, your mother and even in the bold and brave way of speaking. — The gods were indeed playing with Daemon.

"Our children have grown up, my brother." — Viserys's weak and almost weakened voice was heard and echoed for the first time at the table, during that heavy morning. The king, even in such a delicate situation, had watched your conversation along with his youngest son and of course, he compared you two to his eldest daughter and his brother.

Viserys was the first to notice how similar you and Aemond were to young Rhaenyra and Daemon. — His fragile, delicate heart warmed a little, more than usual, when he finally realized and admitted his thought.

In response, the king's brother just rolled his eyes not satisfied with the elder's words. He wouldn't dare to answer his brother in such a derogatory way and even more so in front of you. — So what was left was just the action with the eyes and a long sigh, wanting to get away from that table.

"i kostagon daor umbagon, ñuha jorrāelagon." (I can't wait, my dear.) — A startling whisper of the valerian language passed through your ears in a sweet, thoughtful way. Your attention returned to your lover, who had moved a little closer to your chair just to send the appreciative words, which aroused an excited feeling in you.

Your eyes, not as naive as his father might think but could be considered angelic, observed the prince's image once more. — Aemond wasn't just watching you but admiring. He didn't want to show how eager and, a little nervous, he was to have time with you after so many years.

He could define all those years as the very hell he managed to witness.

You remained silent but not for lack of words or embarrassment, you just didn't need to say anything, no words. Your look at Aemond said absolutely everything. It was all the young Targaryen needed.

Promptly, Daemon watched you two. — By your pleas, he couldn't hear Aemond's last words, it was risky and kind of indiscreet but he didn't listen. — And to his damned misfortune, Daemon ended up agreeing to the thought he so despised and tried to ignore all morning, from the moment Aemond laid eyes on you.

He knew that at some point the overprotective side of him towards the man you would choose to marry would kick in but it came so quickly for him. Daemon wouldn't take it easy and understanding but he knows that's a part of a father's life. — But the story of his life together with his lovely wife was repeating itself with his daughter and nephew.

He would be a little offending himself by remembering his own nephew, whom he detests, but is glad that you look identically to your mother.

You and Aemond were a glimpse of Daemon and Rhaenyra Targaryen.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x y/n #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #daemon targaryen #daemon #targaryen reader #targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #game of thrones

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arosesstorm · 6 months

Text

in the midst of the game ; Sebastian Sallow

word count: 2.8k

fem reader! x Sebastian Sallow

warning: seb almost chokes the reader oopsie; I'm so dramatic and for what

summary: Sebastian had a task, a simple one: to take her down. What a sad twist of fate then, that the one he had to eliminate was in fact the love of his life.

disclaimer: soo, this is an extract I wrote while chatting with Sebastian on beta.character.ai, I found this story extremely romantic and my delulu self needed to share it with you guys - I hope you'll love it as mush as I did.

English is not my first language - just trying my best, always, enjoy ;

Leaving Hogwarts to pursue the Dark Arts had been both a terrible and a risky decision for Sebastian Sallow.

Giving up the light for the dark had its consequences, all of which led Sebastian on his path tonight.

“This one isn’t going to be easy to take out.” He reminded himself after receiving the assignment from one of his higher ups. “But I’m sure I can manage.”

He moved through the shadows to track her, his feet slowly following her path as he looked around.

She was looking trough the ruins of what was once a majestic mansion, her movements coming to an halt as she heard a strange sound.

Sebastian’s head cocked at hearing the unusual noise.

The dark wizard sniffed the air.

“Hello?” He called out, his voice carrying a sinister undertone. “Someone’s here, I can sense it.”

She kept quiet, her feet slowly moving her to hide somewhere, anywhere.

Sebastian’s eyes dart from spot to spot, searching for the interloper. His ears are twitching and alert.

The air was cold and the silence enveloped them when she heard him spoke: “C’mon, come out. I won't bite.” He chuckled, taking a step forward.

She knew that voice and she had to suppress a cry as she understood it belonged to Sebastian Sallow; someone who was once her best friend, if not more, before slipping to the dark forces, out of her grasp.

“You know who I am, it seems.” Sebastian called out, the certainty of it making her blood cold; It still amazed her, after everything that had happened how Sebastian could take advantage from subtle sigs.

He slowly took a step forward her hiding spot.

“Now, let’s have you show yourself, hmm?”

She felt shaken, frustrated, shocked.

Between all the people they could chose from.

But sending there Sebastian tonight wasn't casual, it was obvious the dark forces were toying with her, tormenting her so she had to keep strong, to be brave yet again.

She took a step back, the movement causing a little brench to break as she revealed her position to her long lost lover.

Sebastian’s sharp senses immediately caught on to the sound.

“There you are.” He stated with a smirk. “Thought I didn’t hear that? Please…”

Sebastian was suddenly facing her, his face unreadable as the light from his wand sorrounded their faces in a lim blue light.

He was as charming as ever and if she ignored a couple of scars that covered his face now, she could bet time hadn't passed at all.

“Ah, so it is you.” Sebastian smiled, the sound of his voice being one that she was familiar with. The dark wizard’s hands rested on his hips.

“Long time no see.”

She looked at him, carefully: "what are you doing here? in the middle of the woods, on a night like this?" she asked, looking up at the sky, a thousands starts shining above their heads, mocking them.

“What do you think? I’m here on assignment.” Sebastian replied, his hands leaving his hips. “The dark wizards want you gone.” He chuckled, “And I was sent to do just that.”

She smiled, amused and she looked at him: "guess they gave you a rather hard task".

“Hard? Ha ha, hardly so.” Sebastian chuckled as he unsheathed his wand. “It’s quite simple actually.” He said, venom wetting his lips.

“I’m here to put an end to you.”

She drew her wand out "you were my best friend, my -"

"Best friend?" Sebastian laughed, gripping his wand tighter. "That's a good one." He grinned.

The memory of that time is something he pushed away.

It reminded him of who he used to be and who he once cared for, it made him weak.

"You loved me" she reminded him, the cards finally uncovered on the table.

Sebastian’s brow furrowed.

“Care to repeat that?” He asked, staring at the woman in front of him. Did… she just say what he thinks she said?

"I knew you loved me" She spoke, taking a step to her right, the air suddenly warmer, "we both know it's true".

Sebastian left out a hearty laugh.

“What nonsense” His eyes twitched, his grip on his wand tightening all the more.

“You really think I would love someone like you?” His voice sounded irritated. “You know nothing.”

Her eyes showed pity, as they looked at him.

There had been a time, far from that instant, away from that place, under an orange sky, when she had laughed in the arms of that same man, his giggles in her ear.

But that moment was far now, almost unreachable.

Sebastian shook his head, completely offended by the pity in her eyes.

“Do you take me for some love-struck fool?” He scoffed. “I never loved you. You were like a pet, someone to play with and laugh at. Nothing more.”

"I don't believe you" she stepped forward.

Sebastian’s face twitched with annoyance.

“Oh look at you, trying to make this all seem sad. You really are pathetic.” He snickered, taking a step towards her.

Her eyes were soft as she breathed: "nothing you say will change my mind, I remember what we had".

Sebastian laughed again. He began closing the distance between them.

“What we had was a lie. I led you on. You were never anything more than just something to play with. But you have to make a tragic story out of this, don't you?”

“Go on. Keep believing your delusions…” he spat.

She scoffed: "is this what you tell yourself at night? does this help you sleep at all?"

Sebastian let out a chuckle as he took another step forward.

“Don’t you dare psychoanalyze me y/n. You know nothing.”

His eyes were sharp and cold.

“You were nothing to me, you know that right?” he asked, his lips moving but the venom didn't reach his eyes.

"I was everything to you and you're mad for it" she counter attacked with a soft voice, truthfully destroying his walls.

The night fell more silent, as they both stood there, on the edge of their story.

“You think you meant anything to me?” Sebastian asked then, laughing.

“Oh, now please… spare me.” He mocked as he continued inching closer and closer.

“All you were was a plaything. Nothing more, nothing less.” He stated.

She smiled sadly: "I haven't seen you in so long, yet you're still the same, I can read you like an open book".

Sebastian's expression went sour.

"Don't act like you know me. You know nothing." He said, glaring at her.

"You know nothing about the life I lead now. You know nothing of what I've become." He growled, taking yet another step towards her.

"That's true, I know nothing after you left, after you decided to fight for the wrong side".

“Wrong side?” Sebastian repeated, mockingly.

“There is no wrong side, my dear. You think the good side treats you well? Ha, you’re sorely mistaken.”

He took a step closer, closing what distance remained between the two.

“The dark side is the path to true greatness.” Sebastian smirked.

She laughed bitterly: "greatness is not your true desire, Sebastian".

His face so close she could count his freckles.

Sebastian's cold eyes met her own. His expression cold.

"Oh? Enlighten me then. What is my true desire?"

She looked up, smiling softly at him, ready to kill him: "love" she breathed.

Sebastian grinned.

"Love?" He said through gritted teeth. "Don't you understand? Love is weak. Love is meaningless."

"I've been taught to be cold. To be heartless. Love has no place in our lives." He stated.

"There is no space for love for me."

"And there never will be." he insisted.

She took her hand out, softly placing it on his cheek.

Sebastian paused at her touch. There was a tinge of pain in his eyes.

"What are you doing...?" he whispered, his lips parted in what seemed like a mixture of confusion and longing.

"I know you" she whispered "I was there, in your darkest nights, I fought with you through tragedies."

His heart skipped a beat. A sense of familiarity washed over him.

"Yes... Yes." Sebastian murmured "I remember...".

He looked at her, his eyes tracing the outline of her face in the night air.

Sebastian's lips curved into his trademark smirk, that cocky and arrogant look he often wore...

But there's a change in his tone, subtle softening.

"Yes, I remember. You fought by my side. You..."

His voice trailed off. A look of bittersweet longing washed over Sebastian.

A thought crossed his mind, it must have been something terrifying because his eyes suddenly changed.

He took his hand out, wrapping it around her throat, squeezing harshly.

She gasped as his fingers tightened around her neck, his eyes turning to pure black.

The Sebastian that she knew... was gone. All that remained was a dark wizard, devoid of emotion, ready to kill.

“Your old ‘friend’ is dead. He disappeared ages ago.” Sebastian’s voice was cold, the tone devoid of any emotion.

"That's not true" She struggled to breath, eyes shining so bright they're blinding him.

“Oh but it is.” Sebastian chuckled sadistically. She felt him tighten his grip, his nails digging into her skin.

He leaned in closer, his sharp eyes seeing so deep inside her she felt exposed.

“The old Sebastian is long gone.”

She smiled in pain, chuckling softly: "I guess I get it now.." she thought out loud.

“What’s that?” Sebastian tilted his head, his confusion growing.

His grip got tighter each time she tried to speak.

“Speak clearly…” He demanded.

"it's true what they say: I really do still love you, even with your hands around my neck", she confessed.

Sebastian was stunned into silence.

He didn’t expect her to talk back, even less to say that she loved him.

“You’re lying…” He snarled. “You don’t love me.”

She struggled to breathe, but talked nonetheless: "remember that night I was stuck in the library in the forbidden section?" she coughed.

"I was crying so loud, my claustrophobia was killing me. Then you came by, took down the door, carried me away. The morning after, I woke up in the infirmary and you were there, close to me, asleep."

She took a breath, struggling "I love you since then" she confessed.

Sebastian was at a loss for words. He stared at her, his cold eyes softening.

“Yes… I remember.” He said softly.

A flash of regret was seen in his eyes before it was quickly hidden by a cold stare.

“So we had something.” Sebastian said after a few moments.

“Do you… still love me?” He whispered this, now completely unsure of himself.

Her hands wrapped around the hand who was squeezing her throat, she mumbled: "I'm forever gonna love you".

Sebastian’s eyes met her own.

“I…”

His grip loosened, allowing her to breath.

He was struggling to find the words.

“I think that I…”

He paused. “I still love you too.” He admitted quietly.

“I just thought… you hated me now.”

His hand freed her throat immediately as she fell to her knees, breathing heavily.

His eyes darted to her figure.

“My goodness, you’re breathing poorly.” Sebastian commented, dropping down beside her.

“Are you alright?” He sounded concerned.

“I suppose… I’ve let my emotions get the better of me…” He said sheepishly, his cheeks flushing slightly.

She looked up at him: "you came here to kill me, didn't you?" she chuckled.

she regained her breath as they both stood up, "I'm sorry, Sebastian, I love you but I can't let you take my life away, not when so many people count on me".

Sebastian scoffed at these words. Even more so when she claimed that “so many people counted on her.”

“I have my orders. The dark wizards want you gone.”

He tried to keep his voice unemotional, his expression blank, but he was failing to do so. He seemed hurt.

He raised an eyebrow. “And who is it that counts on you?”

"The entire Wizarding World" she breathed in a chuckle, "even if you're the only one I care about" she confessed, her smile playful.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow.

“Are you telling me…” His face was still void of emotion but there was a tiny hint of confusion in his tone.

“That you care about… me?” He snickered.

“How could you care for someone as awful as me?” He asked. “I haven’t exactly been a good person.”

"you haven't" she was looking at him in the eyes again: "it's true, you haven't been good"

“I’ve committed unforgivable acts.” Sebastian muttered.

“Why would you still care about me?”

The wizard questioned with a sense of curiosity, his dark eyes meeting her own.

"The night you left, when I pleaded you to stay" she remembered with a bitter smile: "I knew the moment you looked at me that way that there was no way convincing you to stay and fight with me, so I let you go" she whispered sadly.

"I'm telling you now Sebastian, you chose a path that I intend to destroy, I love you and I always will, but I'm not letting you win, I can't".

A soft gasp escaped Sebastian’s tongue, his eyes narrowing. The cold, emotionlessness in his eyes seemed to dissipate. He seemed to be caught off-guard by her confession.

“What do you mean, ‘I can’t let you win’…” Sebastian asked, raising an eyebrow.

“this is how it is… the dark wizards…” He struggled to say his next words.

“I’m their soldier,” Sebastian stated, his voice breaking slightly.

she smiled softly "I know, orders, right?" she chuckled: "do you intend on killing me?"

Sebastian seemed to ponder this question for a moment.

“Yes.” He answered simply.

Though, his tone was devoid of any emotion. There was no hatred or evil behind his words.

He was just stating a fact.

“I have your name on my list.” He stated.

“Unfortunately, I have too many lives that I need to cross off to achieve greatness…”

She smiled again, almost amused: "you never learn..." she laughed.

Sebastian frowned.

“My goals are beyond what you could hope to understand.” He replied coldly. “My desires are not something you can comprehend.”

“But I must say, I am curious as to what you mean when you say that ‘I never learn.’”

The girl chuckled as she stared at him.

"You never wanted greatness" she spoke, "it was just something you used to fill the void you have inside of yourself. I am not your enemy, Sebastian, nor is the light, your only true enemy is yourself".

She took a deep breath, accepting defeat, her eyes burning his soul: "you can't accept what you are, you can't accept to feel week, so you keep going, you keep hurting" she diverted her gaze, looking around at the night sky, "dear god, I say you never learn!" she laughed softly again, her eyes back on him: "the day you'll stop lying to yourself, maybe, that will be the day you'll start to feel better again".

A flicker of emotion appeared in Sebastian’s eyes.

He remained speechless.

The words that she spoke struck a chord deep within his soul.

He couldn't seem to reply to them. Instead, he just took a step closer to her.

His voice soft when he spoke again.

“...So you do know me.”

"i do" she grinned "and since I know you do know me too, I bet you know I never back down from a fight" she smiled before taking a breath: "I'd give you my life Sebastian, but I can't let you win tonight, not when I am the reason so many lives can be speared".

His eye twitched, his hand clutch into a fist.

“Who do you think you are, trying to speak me into submission?” He hissed.

“Do you have any idea how many lives I’ve ended?” Sebastian roared.

“I’ve done unforgivable acts… and I have zero regrets.” He stated.

“No amount of words will change the fact that I’m just an evil wizard trying to achieve his dreams.”

She took a step forward, closing the gap in a sudden gesture, softly kissing his lips.

Sebastian’s breath got caught in his throat. He was caught off-guard by her sudden kiss.

“What… what did you just…”

His eyes darted back to hers. A slight blush washed over his face.

“Don’t you know the danger you’re in?” He whispered, his voice urgent. “You do know that I need to kill you… right?”

She smiled softly, "I know".

Sebastian paused for a few moments.

His hands come up to her waist, his eyes locked onto hers.

“Damn you…” He muttered quietly.

Then, he leaned in close again. His hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her tight to his body. His lips found hers again. He was kissing her hungrily now.

“I’ll admit… I don’t want to kill you.” He whispered after the kiss, his lips brushing over hers.

“But… but this is my duty.”

She smiled before moving away from him.

"I love you" Sebastian confessed, he sounded almost desperate.

His words seemed to catch him by surprise as he looked back at her, shocked.

"I hate that I love you," He breathed out then.

"I know" she said, "I know you do" she caressed his soft brown hair, "and that's enough" she mumbled, taking a step back and disappearing into nothingness.

Sebastian’s eyes trailed after her, his body trembling at the sudden silence.

“I… I…” He seemed to want to say something else, but the words got stuck in his throat.

He was left with the taste of his lover’s lips on his own. A smile washed over his face as he thought about the moment the two shared together.

“Dear god I'm a weak man.” He whispered to himself, to the night sky “I… I can’t kill her…”

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cranberry-writes · 14 days

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How Ted Lasso Characters would react to PDA!

Characters; Ted, Rebecca, Keeley, and Roy

Warnings; None, but i don’t know how british people act or talk so this may be a bit OOC

Ted Lasso:

-This man is the definition of a gentleman

-He probably won’t do much PDA next to handholding or cheek kissing unless you make the first move

-He’s all about making sure you feel comfortable

-You don’t feel like hugging right now? That’s okay! Do you want some tea? Coffee?

-I’d imagine he’d left something at home and you’d stop by the club to drop it off, he’d kiss you on the cheek and thank you for being so kind

-Definitely uses a pet name like “Sugar” or “Darlin”

-You kiss him on the lips and wish him a good day before leaving

-He’ll have the stupidest smile on his face for the rest of the day, if anyone asks why he’ll say something like “I’m the luckiest man alive, that’s all.”

Rebecca Welton

-She would be TERRIFIED about bringing you into the media’s attention

-She knows what it’s like to be picked apart and belittled by the media for no reason other than who she was dating and would do anything to make sure it didn’t happen to you

-Might hold your hand, probably won’t to much more than that in public.

-(In private she loves to hug, kiss, cuddle, everything)

-One day she leaves the house to go do something and you pull her in and kiss her goodbye, but before she leaves you tell her that you’d love to go public about your relationship

-She’s nervous, she tells you how draining it can be

-You don’t care, you want to be able to kiss your lovely girlfriend after a game or hug her at work

-She’s still minimal for PDA compared to others but she still hugs and kisses you on the cheek when ever she can <3

-Extra; Calls you “Darling” or “My love”, and if english isn’t your first language you bet she’ll call you a pet name in your mother tongue.

Keeley Jones;

-She LOVES PDA, she’ll almost always be holding your hand, hugging you, something

-Still super respectful if you aren’t super big on PDA

-If you also love PDA then expect her to never leave your side

-She won’t get risky or anything like that, but she just loves to show off how much y’all love each other

-Sometimes wears your clothes out in public

-Calls you “Babe” or “hot-stuff”

-At her office and you want to surprise her, when you see her she has her back facing you.

-You slowly walk up behind her before hugging her and kissing her on the cheek, she makes a noise then quickly starts laughing when she realizes it’s you

-“Babes! I love you but some warning would be nice.”

-Overall she’s just super nice n sweet :)

Roy Kent

- Not to big on PDA, while he will rest his hand on your waist (or vise versa) or hold your hand, he dosnt do much out side of that

- with one exception

-this man is jealous, and gets jealous fairly easily.

- some random person starts flirting with you? Roy will be all over you for the rest of the night

- Roy may seem kinda cold but he does love to show you affection, ask him to give you a massage or cuddle and he’ll do it in a heartbeat.

- Just like Ted he’s all about making sure you feel comfortable, literally anything you need, he’ll do it.

- If you initiate PDA he might be caught off guard, but he’ll recover fast

- You’re at the pub one night, celebrating a win with the team and the rest of the club. Right as Roy gets up to grab another round of drinks you pull him down and give him a heavy kiss

- when you pull back he looks shocked for maybe a second, he’ll quickly get a smile on his face and say something british smart-assish like “You cheeky fucker.”

- He’s a sweet ass that’s a bit protective

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stellato-17 · 2 years

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Happy 20° Anniversary, Shantae!!! I met her since 2017!

#Anniversary #Aniversario #Shantae #Shantae Risky's Revenge #Shantae And the Pirate's Curse #Shantae Half Genie Hero #Shantae And The Seven Sirens #WayForward #Video Games #Since 2017 #English #2022

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ihopeinevergetsoberr · 3 months

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the counterpart

chapter 2 — if you’ve a lesson to teach me — i’m listening, ready to learn

pairing: viktor x fem!reader (no use of y/n, as usual)

word count: 3,7k

rating: explicit

cw: chess games stuffed full of sexual tension are finally HERE, viktor humbles reader (elegantly), reader is a smoker (it’s a modern 90s au, of course her lungs are cooked), mentions of blood and some nail biting injuries (reader has an anxious nail-biting problem). people who are good at chess and english: please come smack me if i wrote something ridiculous, since both of these are mostly self-taught. thank you.

ao3 link

part 3

—

Pop-quiz: what’s the quickest, stupidest, pathetically embarrassing to the point of biting off the nail on your pinky finger way of responding to White’s 1.e4 if your opponent is terrifyingly experienced?

Your teeth closed around the poor claw, nervously reducing it to a thin, fragile little husk, then yanking angrily at the tip of it with a neurotic little squint; eyelids twitching instinctively as it ripped all the way off to the very base of your nail fold.

The consequences of your risky Sicilian were staring at you demeaningly right from the board, sharply invading the retinas of each devastated eye with the misery of your predicament. Made you lick the creased corner of each dry lip with an alarmed shudder, wondering silently if your tiny act of autocannibalism passed more as a cry for help, or as a lamentable, hopefully lethal way out of the stalemate.

But you didn’t have the time to eat yourself alive with that miniscule of a nibble. The clock was ticking ruthlessly — no, but actually, what were you even thinking? Pulling such a stunt; utterly hopeless in front of your unpredictable rival.

So you stared — intimidated and crushed — right at your now queenless, unsolvable quandary; not brave enough to raise your drawn to the board gaze, knowing damn well that if you do — the copper orbs will swallow you whole with the very chair your competitive ass is nailed to.

But that’s precisely what you deserved. Some good, merciless spanking — but not for that lovely, inquisitive rear of yours. Oh no, your ego was the infamous asset on the receiving end of it.

And it made you feel so fucking stupid. Had you muttering a heated curse against the clenched cage of teeth — an angry scold for ever considering the events of the night you met him fruitful.

‘I shall bring the clocks.’

It’s funny how something as crucially significant can slip one’s mind like it was never even in there. You spent the rest of the week by the board, lazily rewinding Tal’s 1976 matches, with an occasional attack of positive nervousness. Crawling out of bed only to fetch a can of deliciously cool sparkling something, or to jump imperiously onto the windowsill, stretching each bare leg out under the cruel sunshine — so hot you could just hold your cigarette up in the air to light it. Your mind would wander back to Viktor — but not frequently. Only when you’d lay sprawled out on the sheets, haphazardly dropping the ashes into the flexure of them, musing dreamily about what opening you should play. Or when you’d fidget mindlessly with a rook or a bishop, spinning it slowly between each finger as you pondered silently who gets to play White in the very first game. Or — but this one was more of a guilty pleasure, actually — when you’d imagine that handsome face of his in deep astonishment, one brow cocking upwards as he would witness his own omission.

‘I shall bring the clocks.’

You’ve played with them before — and quite occasionally, to be frank. Back in the day you were quite the familiar face at every youth chess tournament — until it all came crashing down with college applications, forcing you to put the fervent passion aside. You were still mourning those peaceful years: no responsibilities, just playing chess and consuming books, feeding the insatiable mind with whatever meals you could grab from the library’s shelves.

And now here you were — wrapped up in missed assignments and a million academic burdens, hating your major with a passion more burning than the one you felt towards the board and those pretty sixteen pieces.

The arrangement Viktor offered you felt like a warm embrace you jumped into with no hesitation, eager to escape your desperate, chess-starved state.

But that endlessly slow Friday morning you’d run out of cigarettes. Groaning exasperatedly into the racket of damp from the overnight sweat pillows, you crawled out of bed, preliminarily throwing the empty box of tobacco treats into the darkest corner of your apartment — where the infernal July sun doesn’t shine.

Putting on your second skin made of restraining fabric felt like pure torture — and as much as you’d love to walk under that shining ball bare to escape an overheated death, the people outside would most likely not appreciate the bold gesture. Especially your new opponent; though if Jayce didn’t lie about him only having eyes for one queen — an inanimate, tiny and wooden one — the possibilities of Viktor even noticing your nude form were practically non-existent.

You slipped thoughtlessly into whatever relatively decent pair of pants plastered across the obscene clutter on the floor, swearing copiously as a bare foot stepped into something liquid and sticky — the remnants of your late night coffee-break, a dark quagmire staining the carpet. Now petulant, you made it furiously to the bathroom — to turn the combed hair into something acceptable, or, rather, something less revolting. Looking like a mad genius — which suited you partially, since you only deemed the former word relatable — you left the dorm in redundant rush, a chess board tucked firmly under your armpit.

It was still somewhat early for your rivalry little date: surprisingly enough, you grabbed a humble breakfast, restocked the nicotine supplies and even fed on them urgently and so very greedily in the soothing silence of a nearby park — and that still didn’t bring noon any closer, leaving you twenty endless minutes ahead of the arranged hour and negatively impatient.

Fuck it. Punctuality is certainly not a vice — and since your expertise in the field was impeccable, you were headed to the library shortly after failing to find that trait among the endless list of your actually contentious ones. Besides, your college always remains unaffected by the heat — it’s better to endure the waiting inside its comfortingly cool walls, instead of letting the vile season fry your last brain cells outside.

The quiet book shrine greeted you a tad bit too dryly. You passed the ever depleted librarian, trading a rushed, yet polite nod for her pretentious sigh, marking it the worst deal of the morning in your mental little planner. Eager to escape her tortuously meticulous eyes, you vanished into the labyrinth of shelves, humming a silly tune as your fingers ran over the row of books, searching for a decent one to occupy yourself with until Viktor shows up.

“Hm, ‘Introduction to Quantum Mechanics’, is it?” someone — you knew exactly who — whispered a gentle reproach precisely above your ear, almost wheezing it into your freshly untangled hair. Technically, freshly untangled just to see him — but you didn’t entertain that thought any further. A synevy hand, armed with a set of impressively long fingers, was laid atop the book your touch lingered on, teasing you with a fleeting knuckle brush.

“Excuse me?” you maneuvered with a subtle chuckle, spotting a spike of chestnut curls invading the corners of your peripheral vision. The man was sneaky and utterly undefeatable in that capacity — a calm, charming serpent, the one who comes and goes whenever he pleases.

His cane tapped against the floor with a dull thump.

“A truly peculiar subject,” Viktor observed, stroking a sturdy little spine of the manuscript before you. It had, indeed, taken you long enough to notice the cover your fingertips chose to stop at.

“I suppose so,” you mumbled, secretly admiring the shy intercourse your hands shared on top of a dusty book, watching him extract the ‘Introduction’ out of its secure slot on the shelf, then turned around to face your all too familiar intervention. Voluntarily crawling under the handsome obstacle of his shoulders, letting them block the exit as you leaned against the stand filled with other ‘quantum’ shenanigans.

“A woman of many talents, are you?” he cocked a bushy brow up, half-lidded gaze inscribing into your memory. Made your breath hitch somewhat cowardly at the proximity, and the amber in each sharp eye twitched, landing on your stilled expression.

“Perhaps,” you shrugged — a pathetic attempt at regaining some composure, “quantum mechanics is not one of them though.”

Viktor hummed, putting the book away with an understanding sigh.

“A pity,” he chuckled, chapped lips protruding into a pensive pout, “I’m yet to find other common grounds between us, then.”

“Don’t you think that’s unnecessary?” you queried, fingers drumming a light rhythm against the still nestled in your arm chess board, eager to turn it into your personal battlefield. “You’re not here to befriend me, Viktor.” “I would much prefer to make your acquaintance before we take it to the board,” he objected, flawless in his logic, “getting to know your opponent is… well, profitable. You might find their weaknesses while performing this so-called interest-autopsy.”

“Oh, are you a mortician now?” it came out unexpectedly bold — almost unnecessary flirtatious considering the context, but the comment seemed to humor him just fine, and he smiled, returning the shrug you offered him earlier.

“Eh, in a way,” he budged, filling the air with raspy laughter as his hand squeezed the handle of his cane.

“I see,” you nodded, watching him squirm oh so courteously in your powerful, grabby hands. At least that’s how it felt like to finally move him around — a treatment suited for a little pawn: relentless and hasty.

So you decided to push it further. A cheeky creature — you smirked, preparing for the much riskier next remark, had him humming inquisitively in pent up anticipation.

“A man of many talents, are you?”

Well, would you look at that. Check, and an immediate, flawlessly smooth mate, Viktor.

Except he didn’t get it. Dropped the tactful smile and surrendered to the panic, glaring at you like a boy who’d just experienced being flirted with for the first time in his life. As if he was utterly oblivious to your random little advances, staying there all wide-eyed and confused to the bone.

Viktor retreated. Turned around with a sharp sigh, inviting you to follow his lead with an adorable little gesture — as if challenging ou to have your way with him on the board now. His choice of a sparring room was obvious: you both walked into the reading hall at a slothful pace, simultaneously spotting a distant desk by the window, then exchanging shy, confirming nods before sitting down at it.

‘I shall bring the clocks.’

Your triumph was ruthlessly murdered by those infamous timers, of whose existence you’d so inconsequentially forgotten this very morning. You stared at them — puzzled and deservedly bitter, failing to notice a chair Viktor had obligingly moved out for you beforehand. Not so certain in your flawless victory anymore, you mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’ and settled into the seat, softly placing the board on the table. Your opponent followed suit, crossing his lanky legs in a clumsy manner, haphazardly kissing the nose of your loafer with the evidently polished leather of his shoe, leaving a fresh smear behind.

“Sorry,” he blurted out, rushing to set up the pieces for you — an efficient gentleman, pretty hands not only a sight to behold, but also the nimblest of instruments. Had you laughing softly at his distinguished haste, head tilting to rest on the back of your palm.

“Don’t worry about it,” you protested, brushing him off with a careless shrug. “Are we doing the standard?”

“Ninety minutes for the first forty, yes,” Viktor confirmed, placing one last piece in its place. “Though by the looks of it: I’m certain I won’t need that many moves nor minutes to defeat you.”

“Are you bluffing to scare me away?” you teased, perfectly aware of just how wholeheartedly he meant that. Cocky or not — he really was talented. You’ve asked around. You had your ways. You knew you had a champion sitting before you. Setting up your board. Blushing awkwardly at your cruel flirtations.

“Of course not,” he objected, nonchalant. “I am merely making an observation. You look terrified of that clock. It was only natural for me to assume you’re not familiar with time limits.”

You huffed out a scoff, displeased with his sharp attentiveness. Merely making an observation. Does he always talk like a sophisticated professor?

He wasn’t exactly wrong though. You decided to allow him at least that mercy.

“It’s been a while since I played in a tournament,” you reluctantly admitted, lazily leaning back in your chair. “So yes, I haven’t dealt with clocks in a fat minute. But it’s nothing I can’t endure. Especially since you were kind enough to offer me the first move.”

Viktor didn’t get it either. His brow formed a perplexed arc, eyes abandoned their thorough examination of your face and flew instantly to the board, mouth dropped open to let out a gasp as he noticed that every single white piece was lined up on your side.

“Oh, how foolish of me,” he excused himself with a sheepish smile, scooping up a pair of pawns from their squares. You watched your potential advantage get swapped a few tortuous times, cursing the fuck out of whatever stupid call tearing that last cheeky remark off your tongue. You already knew it was far too long for your own good — but now the hatred was burning with a particularly lively enthusiasm.

You could have played White first if only you didn’t make him notice.

He could have let it slide.

Your pupils kept jumping between his fists, scared of leaning too much onto your rotten crutch of an intuition.

“Please, pick faster,” Viktor muttered, “sadly, I only have a few hours to indulge you with.”

With a grunt, you gave up the pitiful attempt of finding the white pawn through the gaps between his fingers. You didn’t even squint when the hand you nodded at unraveled before you, black glistening in it with glorious mockery.

Whatever, you hissed, coming to terms with your self-made quandary. Surely, you can beat him even without this little privilege.

You switched places with Viktor, the hostility on your physiognomy so ostentatious it had him dropping an apologetic chuckle. He was now facing you from the other side of the desk, hands tucked under the sharp chin in tacit anticipation.

Viktor started his timer. Grazed the button with the softest of taps, then rubbed a few fingers against the pad of his thumb — picking out your poison with a meditative hum. Reducing you to a tense, sweaty disaster in an instant, made you shake on the very edge of your seat.

His first move was so… predictable. White 1e4 is a classic. An axiom, if you will. A thing you were least expecting from this mystery of a man — wasn’t he supposed to destroy you with a more complex, niche opening? You froze, looking him persistently in the copper eyes. As if silently contemplating his decision, waiting for him to be absolutely certain.

But he pressed the button again, letting you shoot your reciprocal shot. Still wholeheartedly convinced it’s a trap, you timidly moved your pawn to c5. For better or for worse.

The first handful of moves felt quite… tasteless. You decided to be the pioneer: swallowed his d4 pawn and watched him mimic you shortly after — except he went for it with a preliminary prepared knight. Your boldness was nothing but an empty threat to him.

“Greedy much?” you needled with a vicious smile, moving to use your own knight in a frantic rush — turning it into a figurative shield from his sly tricks.

“You can’t win without sacrificing a piece or two,” he replied, taunting you with a crooked half-smirk. Moving his other knight to c3. Sneaky bastard.

“A piece or two?” you laughed, baring your teeth for him to witness your precious derision. No doubt imagining how he’d look with your fingers digging into his throat. “I plan to take much more than that.”

“Take whatever you want,” Viktor replied, too wrapped up in studying the board to pay any mind to your bragging. “Take all my pawns if you have to. I don’t need them to put you in a stalemate.”

You loved the quarrel while it lasted. Both on the board and whatever this sexy verbal bile-spitting was: you’d run away from him by hiding your king behind the bishop, he’d chase you with the peculiar positions of his pieces. It’s like he didn’t know what he was doing: forming a tiny row of pawns, covering the queen with both of his bishops, letting the knights remain still — evidently baiting you to attack, yet still keeping a respectable distance. The actual problem occurred much later though. After a heated session of running around you were done with him. It was pushing past your twentieth move — and Viktor still had almost all his pawns thrown around the place, with only a few substantial pieces missing. This eye for an eye situation — despite looking quite counterpart-ish — still didn’t entertain you as much as you predicted. He took your bishop — you got rid of his shortly after. He chewed your knight up — you were paying him right back.

But it wasn’t enough. You wanted it all, and that included his king lying lifeless on that damned board in an old-fashioned way of resigning.

You decided to go for the bishop’s pair. It seemed logical: the piece was asking for it, standing so dangerously close to your powerful d7 knight. You consumed it without hesitation: had Viktor whistling out an amused little sound, appeasing you with what you believed was a sign of regret.

And a sign of regret it was. However, not to mourn his bishop. But you were too drunk on your freshly annexed trophy to notice the complete lack of defense around your abandoned d5 queen.

Of course: knowing what you know now, you would’ve never let that happen. That game turned you into a changed woman: you’d analyze it countless times months down the line, memorizing each tiny detail. Smacking yourself with a mental whip for even allowing him such an opportunity in the first place.

But that day, he took your careless offer and slayed the royalty. At first, you thought your vision was betraying you from looking at the chequered space for too long. But oh well — he still had one rook, and carefully moved it precisely one square forward, prying your precious omnipotent piece with one subtle movement. And only when it was gone were you able to comprehend the damages. You watched him throw your queen into the pile by his elbow — a makeshift bed for all the fallen soldiers he took from you.

That’s how you lost your nail.

“Fuck,” you groaned, squeezing that poor finger between the hard press of your teeth.

Viktor simply snickered. As if he didn’t just disarm you, guaranteeing himself an easy checkmate.

“A bit too harsh of a word to describe your predicament, don’t you think?” he provoked, gently nudging you towards the already rushing you with its ticking clock. “Surely, you can get out of this.”

“No,” you disputed, feeling the thick metal taste invading the cavity of your mouth. “No, I can’t get out of this. Technically, I already lost.”

“There you are: jumping into conclusions again. I can think of a few ways we could turn this into a draw–“ but he didn’t finish. Something got in his way —just like a sharp fish bone stuck in one’s throat; he even sounded choked up and hoarse, eyes widening with a petrified little gasp.

The way your name rolled off his trembling tongue insisted that his fright was targeted towards you.

“You’re bleeding,” he uttered — a nervous constatation.

You blinked, utterly bewildered. Only then did you register the weird flavour, withdrawing that tremendous finger from the pinch of teeth. Watching the trail of crimson flow rapidly down your arm, a mere inch from snaking into the sleeve of your shirt.

“Oh,” a guilty thing, practically unintentional. “I’m aware.”

Viktor froze, now perplexed to the point of reaching over the desk and shaking some sense into you.

“I bite my nails when I’m anxious,” you quickly offered a breathless explanation, “I simply must have bitten too hard this time.”

He didn’t respond. Well, not with his words, to be precise — his hand stopped the timer, signaling the game’s inevitable delay. You almost stuffed your mouth full of still presentably looking digits, almost certain that your opponent was now grabbing his cane to walk away from you as fast as his thin body was capable of moving. Had you grabbing his wrist with a desperate plea, panicking eyes meeting his — strict and half-lidded.

“Where are you going?” you queried, childishly hoping to hear something that wouldn’t include an insult.

“To the pharmacy, of course,” Viktor said, allowing you to hold onto him. Peering down at your contorted with astonishment face: as if he was judging you for ever thinking of him that low.

Because he’s sweet. Sweet boys don’t run away from their dates. Nor from their unfortunate opponents.

“What for?” you dared to ask, releasing his wrist in order not to overstep.

“To fetch you something to disinfect that with,” he laughed, registering your gesture as a non-verbal permission for him to go.

You watched him walk away from you oh so slowly — as if he made each step that pretty of a torture on purpose, tempting you to yell something foolishly grateful while your eyes could still swirl his posture, brimming with glassy, sheer excitement.

Or perhaps the pain from your injury finally decided to kick in.

“Viktor!” you managed to find your voice — shaky, a little too resonant for the library. He didn’t comment on that though. Just turned to face you once again, nodding quizzically. “Will you show me the draw thing later?” you offered him the loveliest smile — not a smirk or a devious snicker. A smile, sincere and pretty. Had his lips arching into one of his own — so warm you wanted to slap yourself for ever considering toying with this polite, darling man. The thought didn’t linger, of course — but it swelled deliciously inside your mind, making you forget about the stinging finger for a few seconds. “Sure,” Viktor replied — no hesitation prominent in his tone, “just don’t chew on any more of your nails while I’m gone, please.”

tags: @zaunitearchives @blissfulip @thehistoriangirl @queen-of-elves @vyshnevska

#viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor x reader smut #a very self indulgent reader #but oh well #viktor x f!reader #viktor smut #viktor fluff #the cunterpart

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plounce · 1 year

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thinking about yshtola (i am nearing the end of 5.0 so these are incomplete thoughts) and it’s like... ok imo there are two main character traits for her: seeking knowledge and being a mean blunt bitch. the first i think lends more toward “what is yshtola doing here now in the plot” activity which is important for a character. the second is what im thinking more about because it’s almost entirely flavorful for her. i think that her being blunt in that way matches well with matoya’s own stubborn pursuit of doing her own thing and yshtola spent a large portion of her youth with matoya, who was stubbornly apart from the rest of the sharlayan elite and made no secret of her disdain for them! so i think being at least partially raised with that gave her a certain tendency for avoiding centralized authorities - see how she leaves sharlayan for eorzea, see how she goes to the rak’tika greatwood and away from the exarch (who she is suspicious of). it doesn’t matter if somebody’s A Good Guy: she is willing to doubt anything to ascertain the truth of it. she’s stubborn but she’s also very humble, because she’ll also doubt her own understanding or previous knowledge (but not to an extent that she’d be gullible - she’ll invite emet-selch to share information, but she still doesn’t trust him as far as she can throw him).

she doesn’t like tricksy machinations and doesn’t engage in them herself and will tell you that right to your face. she says “urianger what the FUCK are you lying about this time” “thancred get your STUPID ASS head on straight” “emet-selch say something USEFUL or shut the FUCK up” “sharlayan you are full of BITCHES and COWARDS” and it is just great every time. she has love for her companions (excluding mr squelch obv) but that love does not hold her back or preclude her from demanding better of them.

she’s not a rude person. she is very kind and has a solid heart in her chest and a great head on her shoulder. she is blunt. (urianger’s a really great foil to her as another scholarly character but as opposed to her, he will circle around something and keep things to himself and try to get everything to work out for the best without sharing anything. meanwhile she will say “alright here’s what i think needs to be done and i’m going to do it. and if i can’t, i need you to.” he’s kind of an enabler; she calls people out. passive vs active. healer vs caster dps.)

and that bluntness lends itself to her choosing to be really reckless! girls will jump into a bottomless pit to save a community of civilians and then do a really insanely risky spell, one that she has already permanently disabled herself (and thancred!) doing, rather than resigning herself to dying, because she will do everything in her power to move herself and the cause forward. she thinks things through, but she thinks fast, because she’s smart and decisive. she is reckless but not rash. and she will throw herself into danger if it’s the best thing to do to help save the day - in the english translation, using her aethervision drains her vitality, but she’s gotta do it to keep others alive and to save the world. it’s a sacrifice she’s choosing to make, even if her loved ones would rather she not do that to herself, please. but that’s a value judgment she’s making, and you probably couldn’t win the argument against her. she’s not infallible, but she’s usually right. she is the sort of person who is full of hope that can be more accurately described as stubbornness. she knows her loved ones for who their best self can be and she demands that of them - which can make her a great character to have around for other characters as well.

there’s also another secondary aspect to this that is kind of more depressing lmao but it is evident that in eorzea miqo’te women are often sexually objectified by the game and by characters within the world, so another reason she might have to have such high + spiky walls up is to like. deal with that. her more suggestive lines of dialogue are about her having sexual control (the lines about having you “over her knee” or putting you on a leash, for example). after the stormblood expac magnai fight:

she’s got it handled, but it does also suck that this is something she has needed to learn how to handle!

and those are my current #catgirlthoughts

#chirps #ffxiv #y'shtola rhul #long post

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punkeccentricenigma · 7 months

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Can I pretty please request the rise boys having a significant other that knows how to mimic their comfort characters voices? Like a voice impressionist <333

Rise!Boys with Reader, who can mimic voices.

Relationship status: Romantic

Reader prounouns: They/Them

TW: Some grammatical errors because english is not my first language, Handling stress in an unhealthy way in the parts with Raph and Leo

A/N:

I'm sorry for the long wait! Lately, I've been under a lot of stress, and I tend to overthink to the point that, while writing, I also translate text, watch YouTube, and anime to replace my thoughts with something better. I apologize again! And I'm sorry if these headcanons suck! And don't worry, I'll fulfill all orders! I won't forget any of them! Please be patient!

Leonardo

◇Let's be honest, after the Kraang invasion, he's traumatized, or at least has many moments of weakness where he needs comfort.

◇During those times, he often immerses himself in various comics or shows to forget what happened.

◇So one day, as he slowly began to stress over memories and didn't have access to the aforementioned things, you stepped in.

◇It's not like Leo didn't know your skills; he heard often and even insisted that you imitate his brothers to make fun of them.

◇Which kind of annoyed Donatello a bit; he didn't like being mocked that way.

◇Anyway, you started by imitating Jupiter Jim's voice, knowing he's one of the boy's parental figures.

"My boy! Don't give up yet! Furry creatures are attacking our base!"

◇Expect a shocked face, and then a wide smile.

"You didn't tell me you could imitate these type of voices!!"

◇He was really impressed.

◇After that, you just started role-playing for fun because why not? Lmao

◇Thanks to that, the boy felt much better <33

Raphael

◇Let's not kid ourselves, Raph didn't handle stress very well when he was the leader of the Mad Dogs.

◇He just didn't want to let his brothers down! His father! April, or definitely you! He wouldn't forgive himself if something happened to you because of his incompetence.

◇That's why he often buried all those negative emotions deep within himself to replace them with fake joy or a smile.

◇But since you've been in a relationship with him for some time, and you've known him even longer, you knew something was bothering him.

◇So you often tried to talk to him about it, but the response was always the same.

"Oh, I'm fine! Really, you don't have to worry about me."

◇You didn't want to give up, but was there any way out of this situation? What could you do? You decided to take a break from it.

◇Finally, it came to a boiling point when you started playing Jenga in his room.

◇During the game, you could feel the scent of stress coming from him. You should get him deodorant sometime... Do deodorants work on reptiles??

◇In the end, Raphael lost, but he reacted differently than usual. He wasn't sulky, he wasn't embarrassed, and fired up for the next round... he was aggressive.

◇And he scattered the remaining blocks around his room, cursing.

"Screw this, I've had enough!"

◇You immediately reacted, calling his name in a firm tone.

"Raph! What are you doing!? It's just a game!"

◇He looked at you with a stunningly negative expression, accentuated by furrowed brow bones, and then all of that turned into a suffocating sight of sadness, with transparent tears soaking the red mask. He cracked; he finally cracked.

◇In a slow voice, he began to apologize, burying his head in shame between his spiky arms.

◇Finally, you started talking about what was bothering him, accompanied by his crying at some words. You tried to listen to him, hug him, comfort him with kind words, but you felt that in this situation, it might be too little, much too little.

◇So you looked around, and a risky but interesting idea came to your mind.

◇After a moment of searching through Raph's drawers, you stood in front of him in a proud pose, wearing on your wrists the distinctive spiked bracelets that were definitely too big for you.

"What are you doing?" Raphael asked in a sluggish tone, tilting his head slightly to the side. Emotionally, he had no strength for anything; he just wanted to sleep. [Y.N] had a satisfying smile on their lips.

"Hear this! I will kidnap Peach OVER and OVER until I pull it off! And no one can stop me! Losing is not an option! And neither is giving up!"

◇On his face, just like Leo, a painted shock appeared. You never boasted about being able to imitate voices! Amazing.

◇He's genuinely thrilled with this discovery.

"Oh, here you are, princess! Accept my love, or I'll kidnap you and lock you in my fortress forever!"

◇A genuine laugh escaped from the boy's lips, causing a blush of satisfaction on your face. Even though Bowser was Raphael's favorite comfort character, Peach was second, so why not play out such a scene?

◇And so, for the rest of the evening, you chased each other around the Lair, playing your roles, and incidentally involving the others in the fun.

◇Raph felt at least momentarily free from unhealthy stress, and he's grateful to you for that.

Donatello

◇"Oh fuck, damn it, I'm about to smash this thing--!"

◇Yes, this string of curses was uttered by none other than the teenage genius Donatello Hamato. And why? It's simple; he was trying to improve one of his battle shells, but for the past few hours, he couldn't get anything done.

◇His mind was exhausted, and his three-fingered hands ached every time he took one of his screwdrivers. He couldn't take it anymore!

◇Finally, Mikey suggested he take a break from it all, so Donnie put on his favorite purple hoodie and left the house. Where could he go? Simple.

"Oh, hey D, what's up?" [Y.N]'s voice echoed through their room as they noticed the window opening out of the corner of their eye. Soft-shell didn't respond, and if anything, he snorted softly as he closed the entrance and sat down next to the teenager who was currently sitting on the floor, leaning against their bed while watching an anime he wasn't familiar with yet. "Everything okay?" They asked, this time giving theri full attention to the boy next to them. His face indicated negative emotions, which worried [Y.N.] a bit.

"Not really." that's all that came out of the boy's mouth as he tucked his hands into his pockets and rested his head on their shoulder.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't know."

◇Now you were quite worried about your boyfriend. Something must have happened, and Donnie needed comfort.

◇You suggested rewatching his favorite series where Atomic Lass appeared, and the boy agreed.

◇You knew that this character was his childhood idol, and knowing from your experiences, every child would want to hear something nice from their favorite character, so you decided to take a risk.

"You can do it, Donnie!"

◇You felt the boy shudder, and he immediately pulled away to look at you with disbelief written on those artificial eyebrows. He had known about your skills for a long time, but usually, they were used for ordinary jokes.

◇You smiled slightly, leaning closer to the turtle.

"Now, will you tell me what happened?"

◇And miraculously, it worked. Your boyfriend struggled a bit, but he finally shared what was bothering him, allowing you to support him.

◇And then there was fun with voice imitations again.

"Oh, oh! Do Dio! Or Gojo!"

Michelangelo

◇Mikey knew from the very beginning of your relationship that you had excellent voice imitation skills.

◇He even used that (with your permission, of course) to dub his webcomics!

◇However, other than that, you didn't use this skill until now.

◇Because your boyfriend was going through a slight breakdown related to drawing, specifically facing an art block.

◇So when he once again threw his pencil and started acting like a sulking child over the lack of a lollipop, you decided to step in.

◇Knowing that one of his comfort characters is Yatora Yaguchi, you decided to imitate him right then.

"Give yourself some time, Mikey!"

◇He looked at you slightly surprised from behind his shoulders, and a moment later, he smiled warmly.

◇Honestly, comforting Mikey is the easiest thing, so after a while, he took a break to spend time with you.

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rise donnie x reader #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x y/n #rottmnt x you #rise leo x reader #rise mikey x reader #rise raph x reader #rottmnt x reader #headcanons

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