icecoldwilliams

[icecoldwilliams]

"Would it kill you to dispense a compliment?"

𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐍 | (𝑨𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈) | ✲・*:✲・

In possible irony, the assassin froze. Azures for once the slightest bit surprised.. subtle dismay mangled among blue furrows. Here she almost expected her own forebear to understand.

❝Is it my fault so few have earned them?❞

Well dispensed, compliments are proven to breed further talent and motive. Growth. – In gluttonous excess, however, that growth is suffocated ; The onslaught of false hope and belief of sufficiency breeds stagnation. Complacency.

Mediocrity.

And mediocrity... only gets people killed.

The blonde shifted in her heels, weight against one foot now to the next as she systematically stared. Pros and cons of the words resting on the tip of her tongue at the very least... analyzed, before cast to drip like venom. Sultry timbre softer, almost hesitant in what little admiration slipped through... yet perhaps neurotoxic nonetheless.

❝You've cyclically navigated life and death. ...Did compliments ever pull you out from the dirt?❞

Or did the severest of lessons grant him the wisdom of how to do so on his own?

[icecoldwilliams]

Ephemeral blonde tresses, bloodied and damp against skin. A gruesome wound marring chic ivory, and muffled mutterings, pleadings repeated for nights on end, ad nauseam, delirium ; searing pain from a bullet right alongside one that shouldn't be her own. Foreign and innate, migraine amplifying confusion. – Nina saw it all in a matter of seconds. Felt all of it... just as swiftly as she attempted to shut it out.

❝So you still want to be Dio Brando...❞ She took a breath. Scowled. Amethysts brighter against garnets with a realization. Tracking every red furrow, their sights. Before daring to subtly crane her head, derisive in how she ran her digits down her neck.

❝...Then you can join him in his grave.❞

While she'd rejoin the mist ; a literal purple haze this time surrounding, consuming all in it's wake like a cyclone. Making the rooftop her ring and reaching into the coils of her Lions brain to leave him alone in the eye of the storm. Instead of lightning, however, he dealt with flashes of her ; four identical figures in her image. Elusive. Illusionary as they each took their turns dealing blow after blow. — 'PK Combo' into an 'Assassin's Blade'. 'Swallowtail'. Aconite. All imagined.

None of it real.

Not her own doppelgängers. Not their strikes. Not the cuts and bruises that he could've sworn formed on his skin. Perhaps not even the only calm amidst the whirlwind, how it all seemed to slow to a halt... with his face within her less than gentle grasp.

Her? Another her? ...Whether another mimic, or his living, breathing, undead beloved, it didn't change how she yanked his lips close to hers, the little room remaining for blood to trickle down from his gash and invade her senses, nor how it had ice fracturing. Fangs... aching.

Never mind the low whispered threat in between.

❝Did you really think.. wearing his skin would earn you my mercy...?❞

His plan worked however she had a sharp ace up her sleeve, the blade cutting right into his face at the same time his own blade piercing her skin and yet before he could do anything else she was gone like mist in the wind. She reappeared a few feet behind her and he turned to face her as he felt that icy glare.

He saw the wound he had inflicted and the blood dripping out, even if she could turn to mist he could still cause damage. His plan had worked and yet he felt no joy, only pain in his heart, he hated this, hurting her, how he wished to allow her to carve his heart right out of his ribcage to make amends but there was more to this than just his emotions, he had to control himself, control the situation and stop it from turning deadly. One way or another he had to talk to her. “You know more than anyone how difficult it is to deal with me..” he says while returning the glare.

He watched as she licked her blade, perhaps a way to intimidate him, but then he saw the change in her eyes and he felt something , a pull, a sudden vision of shapeless shadows and incoherent whispers. Even in another world, a reality that was not his just the same as he was not from hers, the blood bond they shared was still there, still strong.

The images appearing in her mind were a bit more vivid than Dio’s show in a memory she thought she lived through but different, as if seeing it from Dio’s point of view how how she got in between him and the bullet and then whispered lamentations, regret, but was this real? Or just another trick from someone she considered a fake?

“I’ve told you who I am, I am Dio Brando. You above anyone else should know who I am!” He says with conviction, taking slow steps towards her. His eyes locked onto a target, his mind focused, teeth ready to strike his target, her neck.

[icecoldwilliams]

The shadows, the long quiet.. whatever you wish to dub what lingered in every crevice of this world, either way it rarely gives. Only takes and takes and takes...

It took the vampires panic, his relief, just as much as it took the lithe figure in his wake. Treading carefully behind him the whole way from the second those grand front doors closed, to up the marble stairs. Even how it stopped, and hid herself up against the halls wall. Holstered weapons and all.

Simply listening. Waiting... despite not knowing what for. – An opening? An opportune moment to strike? Or just.. clarity.

For her a semblance of it joined that familiar timbre, escaping a fangs donned cage and greeting her like an old friend. For him, it was a recherché gift from the shade.

More minutes long silence.. before the umbra finally relinquished his Queen right to his call.

For once, a hint of hesitance in her approach ; merely apathetic as she stood at a distance, drowning him in algid, cerulean blues without a word to say. — Until the ice caps churned. Shifting to another sight for sore eyes past her hit, outside the window: everglow, still faint enough to be outshined by the distant lights of Cairo. Still time left to dwindle away.

The ice fractured into hints of mirth lying dormant beneath the surface.

❝Those in power and their scenic views...❞ Nina mused. Soon folding her arms at the vampires side. ❝You all want to feel like a God high above the rest... Frankly I think you just need the extra oxygen for your massive egos.❞

– Elephant in the room not only unaddressed, but all but left to die ; Just one more offering from the dark quiet, if she had her way. Two graves. For it and the questions it would bring.

The answers even the assassin herself couldn't quite decipher.

Steely Dan froze, he had already taken a few bites of his dinner and with that ice cold delivery he couldn’t tell if she was just boasting or if there was any truth to what she had just said. He didn’t move as she got up and circled him, nor when her hands gripped his shoulders. But he trembled, shivered, heart sank into the depths of a glacier as she whispered in his ear and he knew that no matter what happened if he didn’t kill her she would have his head. He was just barely able to turn his head to watch her walk away with her meal packaged to go in her hand. His. Breath was heavy, heart about to burst, just who was this woman? Damn it he should have done more research on her. “I’ll deal with her after the job is done…” he said to himself as he put down his fork, totally ruined his appetite.

Hours later, a man returned to his home, his mansion. He felt it, something had called him here, perhaps a feeling or something stronger, a bond that nether of them fully understood. Ether way he walked inside, his mind a vortex of thoughts, questions with no answer. Where did she go? Why didn’t she come back? What was he going to do! Time was almost up, what if she didn’t return? What if, what if what if? silence. His thoughts silent as he stood in his study that led tot he balcony and he simply smiled as he let out a sigh he had been holding on for hours.

“Welcome back mo chroí…” he didn’t know where she was, nor if she was near enough to hear him but he just knew she was there, again he couldn’t give an explanation, no way to comprehend it and yet he knew it to be true. Subconsciously he turned to face the shadows, not knowing what would come from them but hoping he would see those azure eyes again.

[icecoldwilliams]

Paint her in hues of purple and gold. Blue eyes, pale tissue if you must. But now? Simply color the killer intrigued.

Help him? Singular him? Not outright handle the issue with her own gun and knives, but if she didn't know better, what almost sounded like a proposed partnership.. of only two apparent parties. Potential to refresh like a drop of water present... yet drowned out in the obvious:

It takes more than a couple drops to submerge an inferno.

More than captured interest to breach an eerie cool silence. Consideration lasting one minute, perhaps two...

❝Interesting proposition.❞ With glasses removed, cerulean's wavered. Calculating every presence in an immediate radius.. of natural means.. just to return ever skeptical. Critical. ❝Don't think me cliche.. but you and what army?❞

— Leisurely steps then trekked against the snow dusted bridge, circling his frame. Stance, attire and demeanor yet again taken into whatever assessment currently orchestrated within wicked matters of white and grey.

❝MI6? CIA..?❞ Prada boots stalled to his left. ❝Or do you just enjoy wasting my time?❞

    Assassinations make you cynical, it seems. William can relate. At least the people (and otherwise) he's slain have been in the name of an ultimate goal. That was true four centuries past, and it's true now. What about her? Is murder just a paycheck? Does she have a means to balance the bloodshed? Keep some sort of light in her life?

    His wife did, so many years ago.

    Please say yes to what I'm about to ask you, he thinks.

    "I'm in the business of putting out fires." William nods his chin toward 5th Avenue, the tall buildings bracketing the park. Somewhere in the concrete jungle is the Zaibatsu's US HQ, its various facilities sprouting around it like a fairy ring of toxic fungi. "We've been living in an inferno for some time, thanks to certain parties, and I'd prefer if they leave some cinders for the rest of us. I know you know this keener than most."

    Adams clasps his hands behind his back. Saoirse sets her own on his shoulder, eyes and smile bright with anticipation.

    "Nina, would you help me kill Kazuya Mishima?"

[icecoldwilliams]

To the side of his head, or impaled through the Russians massive ego? Either way, suddenly her tea sipped warmer, a tad sweeter.

With the quaint thought of dear Dragunov lying unconscious, left to process the physical & prideful blows dealt by a mere pipe... Even the aviary pests flocking beneath her heels were somehow less a nuisance.

– She'd observe them with re-consuming apathy as the conversation again took an unsavory turn.

❝...I don't know, Granda. Maybe she just inherited her intrusivity from you.❞

Whatever hints of a forced smile taking on a coy curve. Fleeting, freezing over to welcome an unyielding glacier. Staring down it's kin and kill past her frames... only if he dared misstep through the ice.

❝Let's just say Anna takes as kindly to our legacy as she does being told no... When that didn't work out for her, she pinned the blame on me.❞ The fellow blonde leaned forward, tea traded for folded arms against the table.

❝Do you think that's fair?❞

    "A steel bar to the side of the head seemed to work well enough." Leaning on his knees, William picks pieces off his croissant and tosses them to the posse of pigeons he's attracted. They mill between his feet and coo amongst themselves.

    The thing at the ruined military base is a more pressing concern. There was an extra layer beneath his flesh. A result of breathing in amrita dust? Is that why he was there to begin with? As soon as Adams is done here, those are questions he'll pursue on his own.

    Nina doesn't need to get involved with that.

    "Going back to your sister...why? What makes her life so miserable? Why does she take it out on you?"

[icecoldwilliams]

AS SAID BY ASTARION ANCUNÍN *  assorted dialogue from baldur's gate 3

you are mine. no one can change that.

i wish... to drink. and be drunk.

you haven't earned the right to stare at me like that.

you could scream bloody murder out here and no one would ever know.

we should find a tavern and celebrate.

do my eyes deceive me? the gang really is all here.

i'd rather be the only dark power inside your body, if it's all the same to you.

you're cute, you know. in another life we might have been friends.

i don't hate you. because this is not you.

we just have to be vigilant. keep our wits about us.

you can try, but i will stop you.

do what you like. it's none of my concern.

i simply do not care.

we could do it, you know. we could rule the world.

i... i don't know what to say. thank you.

well that's just disgusting.

listen to me, damn it! i'm trying to save you, even if you're too stupid to see it.

believe what you want. i'm done with you.

you have no idea what i can do.

sounds like a delightful dinner plan. perhaps i'll join you.

forgiveness? you've never forgiven anything.

i don't need anyone to speak for me.

i don't owe you a damn thing.

don't worry. i'll keep watch tonight.

just don't ask me again.

is there anything else? any new and interesting ways you can waste my time?

i'll come to you tonight, when you're snugly wrapped in your bedroll and we can have a little privacy.

this time i'll make sure i'm quiet.

you're lucky i'm such an open-minded person.

why send anyone after me? i'm hardly a threat out here.

what are you waiting for? help me!

"you can do whatever you want" sounds terrifying, and it is, but there's opportunity in it, too.

i am so much more than what you made me.

hold very, very still.

i'm sorry, but could you excuse us a moment?

get out of my way. i'm in no mood to talk.

you didn't think i could do it? i'm hurt.

i appreciate your loyalty, darling, but i don't think you understand.

fair? nothing about this is fair.

i don't know who they are, but i have plenty of questions.

i'm glad to hear it.

i do believe you. i know you only did what you thought was best for me.

i just need some time to let it sink in.

you're so good to me.

safe? how can i ever be safe now?

well, hello. looking for a cuddle?

now that you're back with us, we need to have a talk.

how flattering. and disturbing.

please tell me this is important.

there's also gold, sex, revenge... quite the list, really. but failing any of those, i will always settle for shallow praise.

now just tell me i'm beautiful and we can call it a day.

i want to thank you.

you're a vision. and you're so much more than that.

this is all a game to you, isn't it?

for as long as i can remember, i've been used by others.

of course i was attracted to you. look at you, for goodness' sake!

i will forever remember what you did for me today.

that's what you've been waiting to hear, isn't it? that's what you want?

i have been waiting so long for you.

come, give yourself to me.

i'll take care of everything.

it's time to try living again.

i feel safe with you. seen.

we don't have to rush into anything tonight.

would it kill you to dispense a compliment?

looking for something?

honestly, you have no sense of fun.

i do appreciate your enthusiasm, but let's try to restrain ourselves a little.

would you like a tour? we can start with my tent, if you like.

everything was taken from me, too.

well, that could have gone better.

i don't know what you mean.

were you actually worried i was angry?

so what was it like? tell me everything.

i hope i'm not interrupting.

some day that soft heart of yours is going to be torn out of your chest.

what a party. we should do this again.

there you are. i've been waiting. waiting since the moment i set eyes on you. waiting to have you.

you've seen enough already.

i didn't want to lose control.

oh, don't be like that. not every problem has to be beaten to death, my dear.

wait! don't interrupt them!

let's not make trouble for some stranger.

my, this place is fun.

my past isn't exactly a happy story.

that was amazing.

it won't happen again. you have my word.

so many people need killing.

remember who saved you.

don't worry. i'm here.

[icecoldwilliams]

Tekken Tag Tournament Playstation 2 2000

[icecoldwilliams]

What power your lips hold, that when you kiss me, I tremble.

[icecoldwilliams]

Tired, Langston Hughes

[icecoldwilliams]

There was intrigue in watching a rat scurry about. Slitted pupils just barely interested in how the pest stupidly braved the feline, somehow always thinking itself wise as it bared it's bucked teeth and squeaked away...

Yet eventually, it grows so dull... there's nothing left to do but pin the rodent between her claws by it's grubby little tail.

And change her plans.

❝About as easy as it would be to slip arsenic in your drink.❞ Somehow the bluff sipped as cooly off her tongue as the taste of rosé, and the chilling silence at their table that followed suit. - Again the Lioness allied with the cold, the quiet. She took to it's side for awhile, idly playing with a meal she could no longer enjoy.. but soon took to her feet ; taking her place behind her client, her company, hands so fatal somehow so gentle in how they graced his shoulders...

Even as she whispered his doom a la sweet nothings in his ear. ❝I read your file. Gotta say, I was almost impressed... To think, a fellow mercenary actually capable of setting aside their ego to beg for help...❞ Painted nails just barely digging in. ❝...But I'm afraid my generosity has run out.❞

– With that, all it took was one finger to track down a waiter and have her food packaged to go ; One hand to grab her clutch and coat.

❝I'll have him on your doorstep by tomorrow morning. Try to learn how not to run your mouth in the meantime.❞

— Minutes, seconds, full hours vanished right alongside the assassins whereabouts once she took her leave. She didn't return to the hotel. Despite whatever fear she instilled, didn't trek across the desert in search of reprieve.

Yet with only 2 hours left with their own waning sands of time ; their game, their sunrise... A vampires mansion was left dim lit, den particularly adorned by candlelight.

And perhaps... a biker dressed killer hiding in wait somewhere within it's shadows.

Was she asking him how to kill Dio? Shouldn’t she already have a plan? Is what Dan thought as he raised an eyebrow. “Ether way is fine as long as he’s dead. He’s a fast one thou so it’s best to take him by surprise.” He said as he began to eat, trying to remain composed in her presence even though he could still feel the icy chill of her eyes.

“Maybe a bomb or poison, it doesn’t have to be fancy or elegant I just need him dead.” Poor Dan had no idea none of those would work on the vampire for he didn’t even know Dio was a vampire. The blonde had kept him at arms length, barely trusting him enough to work under him much less know any of his secrets. All Dan knew was that Dio had a stand that was far too powerful which an ability he couldn’t make heads or tails of.

Back at the hotel, said vampire was at the gym. Furiously working out, as if trying to focus his mind and body on one thing while he waited for his love to return. Then he recalled the soaring matches they had and visualized her moves in his mind. He formulated plans to dodge and counter attack, perhaps he might be able to impress her with this later….he stopped and looked at the clock, each second passing could be ticking down to his doom, his end of she didn’t say her name, if she won this game of theirs…no he couldn’t think about that, he had to believe in her, trust in her, for once in his life he truly felt it would all work out. Was it blind optimism or something more? Only time would tell but for now he decided to give the punching bag a good beating.

Back to Steely Dan trying to not slip on the cracks on the ice. “You’ve been with him for a week right? Surely you’ve figured out a plan to kill him. I mean just how hard is it to wait for him to fall asleep and slit his throat?” He knew nothing, understood nothing, just a rat trying to survive by any means necessary, a rat begging for help from a ferocious lioness.

[icecoldwilliams]

Searing, burning, tribulation ; The panel encased slug should've lodged between flesh and cage. It should've been fatal. It should have left him a measly pile of ash..... So why weren't his screams breaching her senses? Why did she instead have the misfortune of watching as this clone apparently rejected her ammunition without so much as lifting a finger, tore the bullet from his bones ; his all too familiar birthmark... and dared charge her way?

Amethysts blinked, widening as he made distance meaningless. And when his hand so much as brushed her glock, his killer didn't hesitate. Triggering a mechanism, wristguard sprouting a blade and slashing him straight across the face..... almost in sync with his own plunging beneath her clavicle.

He distracted her. Successfully... Cute.

Now, amethysts glared. Malice striking off tinted ice caps as she once again faded to mist... But the vampiress struggled. Unable to whisk as far away as she wished. Outright unwillingly reforming ten feet behind the former vampire lord and staggering back further. This time, guns.... holstered. Knife taken out, tossed aside with ease despite the ensuing bleed, the pain infiltrating her lungs... and own blade brought to orchid lips.

❝Not bad... a resilient cockroach.❞

— Call it impulse, call it instinct. It didn't change how her tongue then ran the length of her weapon. That same look that once accompanied moments pertaining essence and digits, now savoring remnant crimson while staring it's source dead in the face... luminescent violet brighter against neon reds, just to freeze. Close with the wound on her chest.

And open with the onslaught of foreign images invading her wicked albeit vexed brain.

❝....Last chance. Tell me who you are, and maybe I won't crush you beneath my heel.❞

His strike connected, he could feel as his fist hit her abdomen but then the sensation vanished and all he saw was mist and a pleasing scent. Confusing filled his mind, where did she go? How did she avoid the attack? What was this mist? More than enough time for her to counterattack.

He felt her presence behind him far too late, the shot hit his back causing him to feel something unexpected, pain, seething burning pain, like this bullet was burning as hot as the sun itself. He acted fast, jumping away a few feet and having his hand stab its hand into Dio’s back to rip out the bullet and toss it aside. He coughed blood, the wound on his back still bleeding and very slowly healing, much too slow for a normal wound. “That was no normal bullet…” he tore off his shirt to inspect the wound more, right below the star shaped birthmark was a hole that struggled to close, he could still feel it aching, even when he tried to turn off his sense of pain he could still feel it.

“What the hell did you shoot me with?!” He roared but his mind was already planing on how to counterattack. He couldn’t take more shots, just this one had left a painful injury, if she had shot him in the head he might have died or been incapacitated long enough for her to kill him. He knew it already but this was concrete proof, his beloved was out to kill him, why? Why did he deserve her ire? Questions for later for he knew she wouldn’t answer if he asked.

As he planned his attack he came up with an idea, yes, an old strategy that might prove useful. He ran towards her again however he used his stand to stop time and throw a knife he kept in his pants towards her from above. An attack from two directions. Time resumed and he was mere inches away from her, his target the gun in her hand.

[icecoldwilliams]

Ever bold, audacious Lion... Seems someone in their time away forgot who holds the reigns in their little game.

Blonde locks draped ivory with a tilt of her head, the imperious raise of her brow as assumption after assumption spilled from the vampires lips ; as he dared push forward again to claim her own, coquette pink and sly. Chilling curve slowly taking hold.

And those eyes... those cold cerulean blues. So familiarly akin to those of a viper with how beautifully, wickedly they gleam.

They'd paint him masterpieces in their moment of silence ; Carnal warnings of what could be, shot without weapon or word. — Luscious, torturous methodology exhibited in past experiences of her Lion left panting, trembling and moaning at the top of his lungs. Regimented body rendered disobedient at the brink of desire, chasing it whatever the cost, whether it be begging, vulgar speaking or even kissing her heel.

Nina recalled images of him left unsatisfied, restrained. Of him pushed to the farthest edges of his control, then further until it snapped... Images of her so called 'King' punished for trying to steal her crown, as if he would ever have it any other way. – All more vividly etched in azure furrows with every claw he stepped out of line ; With but one digit to her lips, in how she relents. Rejects. His wishes, embrace and all of the above. Escaped in favor of trading the report for his discarded tie, soon wrapped around his eyes from behind. — So, no. Crests didn't meet his as he wished, but instead joined sultry whispers to grace his helix.

❝Daná leoin...they don't get what they want..❞

Then his neck, his shoulder... Every inch of his skin met with kisses and her paradoxical gentle touch, until finally his killer showed mercy, and they reached below his waist ; right atop his mast.

He quivered at her touch, muscles trembling as she touched his length almost like an instrument she had mastered, skilled digits touching every sensitive vein, every millimeter of his throbbing shaft. Dio’s eyes looked down for a moment as he felt the wetness of her dripping sex pressed agaisnt his length only to see how she had positioned herself, how he could clearly see just how deep his manhood would go within her, did it always go that deep every time? The question resonated in his head as precum dripped from his tip onto her ivory skin.

His eyes returned to look into her azure pools, getting lost in those eyes he could swear glowed brighter than his. She was so close, her lips just touching his and right as his eyes began to close he was pushed back against the chair, how cruel could his beloved be at times and yet he couldn’t get enough of her.

Those words she spoke, still reading the report, reminding him of his accomplishments, of his villainous machinations to bring the whole world to its knees all so they could live the perfect life together doing what they love. Still even when threatening politicians, blackmailing CEOs and making obstacles disappear his thoughts would always wonder to one thing, her, how he would rather be with her, enjoying her warmth, her touch and how he very much wished to be ridden until dawn, perhaps that’s how this night would end, at least he hoped.

“You missed me just as much as I missed you…I can feel it…every touch, every word….im at your mercy and nether of us would want it any other way…” he tried to lean forward, trying to kiss her lips once more, to feel that softness. He wanted far more than that, clearly and that’s when he stopped and realized she would definitely want to hear it. “I want you…I want to be inside of you again, please, ride me until dawn and deep until noon, don’t let me escape, make sure I forever regret every single second I’m away from you, no matter the reason~”

[icecoldwilliams]

SPARRING/TRAINING SESSIONS WITH A DASH OF TENSION. all these sentences and prompts are made about training sessions or sparring partners that can develop into tension, be it antagonistic or sexual. These quotes explore dynamics like rivalry, mentorship, flirtation, intensity, grudges, and emotional undertones. please change pronouns, locations and more as you see fit.

“You’re holding back. Are you afraid of hurting me—or of what happens if you don’t?”

“Every scar on my body started as a lesson. Let’s see what you’ll teach me today.”

“This isn’t dancing. Stop smiling and try to hit me.”

“You fight with your heart. That’s why you lose your breath first.”

“That sword’s too heavy for your pride to carry.”

“If you flinch again, I’ll hit you for real.”

“I’m not your enemy. Not today. But train like I might be tomorrow.”

“Careful. You’re starting to enjoy this a little too much.”

“You think you can beat me? Prove it.”

“You learn fast. But I hit faster.”

“No talking. Just blades.”

“Each strike tells me more about you than your words ever could.”

“Are we sparring or settling something?”

“I said train, not try to kill me.”

“Your stance is perfect. Shame about the hesitation.”

“You’re bleeding. Still want to keep going?”

“This isn’t over. We just paused it.”

“Getting close doesn’t mean winning.”

“The floor loves you today. How many times will you kiss it?”

“Pain is just honesty from your body.”

“Try that move again. Slower. I want to see why it failed.”

“You hide behind form. Real fighters bleed.”

“I’m not impressed by technique. Only survival.”

“Your anger makes you predictable.”

“Don’t flirt with your opponent unless you can block while blushing.”

“Oh, you meant to fall like that?”

“We’re not done until someone can’t stand.”

“Training with you is like dancing on the edge of a blade.”

“Is that a sword or an extension of your ego?”

“You hesitate before every strike. Why?”

“Your hands shake. That fear’s still in you.”

“The closer you get, the less you see. Keep your distance.”

“You’ve improved. But I still see the boy behind the blade.”

“One day, you’ll beat me. Just not today.”

“You strike like you want to be seen. Real warriors strike like shadows.”

"You keep getting this close… is it my blade you’re after, or my breath?"

"You're flushed. Is it the fight, or the way I look at you between strikes?"

"Careful—if you keep pinning me like that, I might start to enjoy losing."

"Every time we touch steel, you shiver. Admit it—you crave this."

"Your grip faltered. Did my voice distract you again?"

"Harder. Or are you saving your strength for something else tonight?"

"I can hear your heartbeat. Fast. Wild. Not from fear, though… is it?"

"You breathe like we’ve already tangled in the dark—and not just with swords."

"Keep whispering in my ear during combat and I might forget which weapon I’m holding."

"If you want me on my knees, just say so. You don’t have to disarm me first."

PROMPTS.

Two rivals are forced to spar alone for the first time since a bitter argument.

One fighter begins to pull punches—until the other calls them a coward.

A training match gets interrupted when one draws real blood on accident... or was it?

The master and student swap roles mid-spar, revealing secrets.

A sarcastic remark mid-fight sparks a dangerous escalation.

They lock swords—too close, breathing fast, tension crackling between them.

One fighter is injured but refuses to stop. The other hesitates.

Training in the rain turns messy, slippery—and harder to resist each other.

During drills, one whispers something distracting, causing a mistake.

The match ends when someone is disarmed and ends up pinned.

After a harsh blow, the silence between them is louder than the impact.

A bet is placed: if one wins, the other must do something embarrassing.

One fighter keeps losing on purpose—for a reason they won’t say.

A bystander watches the match, clearly affecting one fighter's confidence.

The match was meant to be a formality—but neither pulls punches.

One grabs the other’s wrist mid-strike and doesn’t let go.

Training weapons get swapped mid-match—testing adaptability.

They practice close-combat, and the proximity flusters one of them.

A mistake leads to an awkward fall—someone lands on top of the other.

Someone uses an unexpected move that only a specific teacher would have taught.

They mimic each other’s movements, until one gets frustrated.

Sparring becomes a silent argument—no words, just strikes.

A third person comments from the sidelines, stirring jealousy.

A fighter wins with a trick, and the loser storms off—pride wounded.

One fighter keeps using a move the other dislikes—on purpose.

The match is over, but they keep going.

After sparring, neither speaks, but both keep glancing back.

A sudden shift—sparring turns into a real fight.

The tension finally snaps, and a kiss replaces the next blow.

They train late at night, when no one’s watching.

One accuses the other of holding back feelings during sparring.

Their blades clash repeatedly in rhythm—like a dance they’ve done before.

Sweat drips, bruises bloom—but neither yields.

One drops their weapon and dares the other to continue unarmed.

Sparring ends with someone flat on the ground, laughing instead of angry.

[icecoldwilliams]

|| ✲・* 𝐏𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 ━ We all about plots here babes, we don't do threads w/o them, so! You know how it goes, give this a lil 💜 or a lil ↺ if you'd be interested in plotting out a thread between your muse & Nina, and I'll check you out soon ✲・*:･ﾟ✲･ﾟ:*  ˚ₓ

[icecoldwilliams]

Tekken 8 Nina Williams Concept

[icecoldwilliams]

I WILL BE THE KNIFE THIS TIME.

prayer for the newly damned, ocean vuong / unknown / mercy, yves olade / cut, caitlyn siehl

[icecoldwilliams]

You run a great blog!

|| Why thank you lovely. I think you have great tastes 💜✲・*:✲・*:･ﾟ