#if it's faced with an opponent it can't beat however...

[writingwisterias]

Anon from the professional boxer Leon request, I have an idea 😍

One, he comes home from after a fight he lost, with a nasty black eye and a bloody nose, and we just tend to him and gently kiss his sweaty face while icing his eye. But he’s also like, all riled up too, shower sex.

I'M HERE I SWEAR ANON SORRY! I will not let boxer!Leon go. He's on my brain again finally... I hope you enjoy

Boxer!Leon Kennedy x AFAB!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut MDNI, Praise Kink, soft Angry Sex? idk he's using you to calm down, Soft Dom Leon, Shower Sex, Implied Size kink, Semi-public sex, Porn with little plot

Who knew I just needed to sit in another room to be so productive and finish this off! Thank you @shymoob for proofreading again ily

Taglist: @senawashere @danigirls-missions @lxzy-bxby @074calicocat @gut1ess

You didn't need to mention the outcome of the match to him, there was no need to console him in the mistakes he had made. It was evident with the tension that laced his body, the words that spat out of his mouth to his manager, he already knew what he did. That he was already beating himself up with what could have been. There was no point in reminding him that he failed, it would just land you in the firing line of his anger and tension. Instead it was safer for you to follow him, despite being blinded by all the camera flashes and disappointed fans, all of them trying to get a word or glimpse of him.

Your hand covered your face to block, whilst the other hand was held tightly by him making sure to keep your body hidden close to his back. You could feel the hardened muscles through the dressing down he had draped around himself. The silk fabric decorated in his name like it was something to be proud of.

A polite smile was plaster on your lips, one of the kind that formed out of awkwardness. You could see the door you were both aiming for now at least, finally able to move from behind him as you both exited the tunnel. The same one he was bounding out of a few hours earlier eager and smiling, feeling like he was on top of the world.

With just a glance to his face you can tell the last half of the match the opponent had knocked his game up. The blood dripped slowly out of his nose, one of his eyes slowly swelling shut with the promising bruise that was coming into play. No one would bother either of you in here, the locker room after the match strictly out of bounds as it was the only way you could calm him down. Using both traditional and not quite traditional methods. The manager couldn't give a fuck, as long as he got his money from Leon and his head was screwed on for next available match. You were the stress reliever of his team and with his mood like this, your skills at the job were definitely going to be tested today.

Leon slumped on the bench first, a large frustrated groan leaving his lips as his palms rubbed into his eyes. You rummaged through the numerous bags he has in here, most of them being stuffed with many outfits for him to decide to wear in the ring. However, you were looking for the minor first aid kit whilst Leon began to shrug what little clothes he had left on. The robe with his name dumped carelessly on the floor, his surname in a satin font laid face up, glinting in the light. Leon refused to look at it, as if looking at the blue letters made him admit his defeat tonight.

You didn't miss the hiss of pain as he leaned back against the wall or the groan as the aches began to settle in now the adrenaline wore off. “I can't believe I lost,” he grumbled, another sigh rumbling through his body almost like a growl. Your fingers lifted his chin, guiding his features to look at you as you began to wipe him free of any blood. Leon's hands gripped your hips, holding you like a life line as he swallowed himself in self pity. His eyes avoided you, worried he wouldn’t see the love and affection that normally laced them compared to the alternative look of disappointment everyone else seemed to sport today.

“Everyone loses sometimes” you spoke softly, acting as if the man in front of you was but a wounded animal and you needed to be gentle so you didn’t spook him. Sometimes even Lions have to get their egos bruised every now and then. “I shouldn't have lost, the fight was easy. It should have been an easy win” his chin jerked from your hand, his eyes fierce with something you couldn't quite pinpoint. “Even so…I think you did well. You looked good” Your tone dropped to that sultry one he loved so much, his eyes watching as yours narrowed a smile growing across your pretty face. You were tempting him and who was he to refuse?

You watched eagerly as his own smirk grew, his touch slowly becoming more possessive as the fight of self-pity left him. His mind as it always did grew distracted by your taunting presence, the way your fingers worked softly through his sweat slicked hair. Playing with a few of the strands that fell in front of his face, curling them between your fingers as you looked down at him. His muscles rippled with temptations, stiffening his form as you touched his shoulders again. “You seem like you need a shower, maybe all the hot water will ease all your– tension” you whispered, your breath tickling against the shell of his ear. Leon smirked, his body towering over yours as he stood up. “Are you going to join me?”

“Did you even have to ask?”

His hand engulfed yours, the heat spreading throughout as he walked over towards the showers. Steam slowly filled the room, the warmth spreading throughout you faster as his hands went to the hem of his tight shorts. His hardened length is prominent through the spandex material. Your fingers twitched at your sides as you watched him pull them down his thighs, clearly flexing the muscles he had gained through his training. He was putting on a show for you, as if he was attempting to make up his sour mood to you. If there was one thing Leon never failed at it was ensuring you were never left unsatisfied.

His tip was beading pre-cum for you eagerly as he turned to look at you, his fist slowly working his length as he backed into the shower stream. You watched his eyes roll back, a his of pleasure escaping his lips as he worked himself. You felt targeted when he opened his eyes– watched as they raked over your body with lust and desire. “Seems a little unfair, sweetheart” He teased, his free hand gesturing to your current clothing situation as his other hand continued to pump himself. You watched his thumb move over his slit, gathering the fluid he was presenting you with.

You started with your blouse, the buttons already straining against your chest. He grinned as your breast became exposed, your nipples hardened against the mesh of your bra. Perked and beautiful craving for his attention. Your trousers were next giving him a little shimmy as you let them drop onto the tiled floor. You pulled the underwear away displaying your pussy to him– a light shine already decorating your thighs as your arousal pooled. “You were turned on before we got here, weren’t you?” Leon taunted, chuckling as your eyes widening before nodding sheepishly. “Your anger is hot”

“That so?”

You cupped your breasts as you approached him, now playing with your peaked nipples once they were free from the bra. Leon watched your actions, mimicking a similar motion with his tip until you were finally within reach. His hands left his cock to reach for you, his length twitching in the stream. Leon’s lips were upon your neck instantly, his hands gripping the flesh of your ass pulling you closer into his frame. He was hungry for you, desperate for a prize he should have won today.

He shouldn’t be here in the locker room fucking his frustrations out on you, he should be listening to his fans scream proudly, listening to the praises offered by his manager. Instead he got your needy noises, the sweet whimpers you offered him when he sucked against your pulse point. Whilst it wasn’t the reward he was expecting tonight, it was one he would gladly take. Leon hoisted you up, holding your weight as your legs wrapped around his hips. Your nails scraped his shoulders as they wrapped around his neck making his already battered skin. You hissed at the feeling of the shower wall hitting your back as he spun you both behind, his tip pressing against your entrance groaning as it fluttered at his slight intrusion.

“Such a good girl for me” He groaned, his lips finding your in a messy kiss again. You could feel his muscles tighten as he pushed himself inside of your pussy sighing thankfully at the feeling of you wrapped around him. His usual methods of foreplay forgotten as his desire for a release on the forefront of his mind, he couldn’t find himself to care at this moment. Not as your cunt squeezed the life out of his cock, the burning feeling flooded through the system as he began to move. “Squeezing me so tight – fuck girl” He grunted, the pain soon turning into the pleasure that only he could achieve.

He held you effortlessly, your weight never a bother. Leon’s head fell to your shoulder, biting and soothing the skin in a continuous battle. “Leon–so fuck–” You whimpered. Your nails left crescent marks in his skin, the biting pain you were causing him helped distract himself from the loss. The angry shouts of his fans, their hurtful words of disappointment fading away with your persistent whimpers and begs for more. You wouldn’t break on him, lose your faith in him like they would. Each flutter of your cunt was a praise, well done for all his efforts today.

You could feel his ass muscles clench beneath your heels as he pressed himself closer, forcing his cock deeper. His tip brushed against your cervix bullying his presence inside of your cunt. His mouth left bite marks as he felt himself grow closer, each spot feeling tender despite the kisses he left after. Your mind was filled with nothing but him, your body was filled with nothing but him but as your orgasm grew closer you didn’t care. “More” You begged, “Please”

Leon grunted, his cock twitching as he stilled his movements. He moved you both to the nearest bench, the sounds no longer muted as the shower faded to a stop. You began to bounce immediately, your slick body moving with ease as you began to chase after your high. Leon watched your tits, following them like a cat with a laser as you pushed them further in his face, your hands braced on the wall behind his head as you focused. “Such a good girl using me like that – makes me feel like I’m good for something” He cooed, his lips kissing the breast closest to his mouth before latching on. Pleasure shot to your throbbing core, his wisps of hair teasing your clit with every movement.

“You’re perfect” You moaned, slowing your bounce to a low grinding, following the pleasure his hair was giving you. Leon wasn’t going to stop you, not as his hands encouraged your slow grind pressing you further into his lower abdomen. “Leon–”

“That’s it, good girl, give it to me baby” he whimpered, his balls tightening. At his praise the coil snapped, your hips slowing their movements as your thighs shook with pleasure. Leon smirked before working your over sensitive body on his cock like you were some expensive fleshlight before with a final deep groan he spilled himself inside you.

The pulsing of his cock was beautiful, the thickness and length keeping the warm love he gave you plugged inside. Leon stroked your hair, cooing at you as you collapsed on his chest. Feeling used and useful in his huge world. “Fuck baby, so good for me” He whispered against your temple, pressing a kiss in the spot as well. You giggled against his form, relishing him in his lighter mood. “I’m proud of you Leon” You muttered against his neck. Leon stilled, his hips jolting his now softening length inside you as your words affected him more than he thought. “Really? Even though I lost”

“Yeah because I know you can still get up and win”

[no1blacksapphirefan]

I'm gonna add another self aware ask to your box lol- based on what I'm doing rn lolol

How do you think the self aware cookies (I specifically have beasts/ancients in mind but do whoever you want lol) would react to a player who's literally nodding off while doing daily missions/tasks before bed? Or if they just straight up fall asleep with the game open.

I've done this like at least once when I was doing alliance lmao, fell asleep and woke up to my cookies cheering because it was the end, god they must've waited for so long cheering and waiting for me, poor guys </3

Pure Vanilla He notices it quickly, he tries his best to subtly urge you to sleep, changing his voicelines a bit to try and encourage you but it doesn't work...well mainly because you're too drowsy to sleep, it's no wonder you didn't realise his voicelines weren't correct.

When he does see you finally falling asleep, he's thankful. Finally...though he is a bit stuck until you notice, don't worry. He doesn't mind keeping an eye on you as you sleep.

White Lily She looks at you as you seem to stiffen in a yawn, needing her and a few others to fight a few cookies in arena, however after a while after beating the opponent she realised...you fell asleep. She wonders how tired you were during the day, my she's worried, especially if it's not even in bed you fell asleep.

She could hardly care less if she's stuck "celebrating" their win as she looks at your sleeping form. Wondering when you'll wake up, she knows you will but she's just worried what happened during the day when you were off. You may just be tired which she hopes is the case, she doesn't want you overworking yourself.

Dark Cacao He knows a look of tiredness when he sees it, he knows when someone overworks themselves to the very bone as well. He's willing to break the code in the game, to go against what most cookies have been doing and "break" the 4th just to make sure you get ample rest.

He can't have one of his favourite people working endlessly now can he? He knows you enjoy playing and perhaps want to play daily, and while he also enjoys just seeing your face everytime, he needs you to rest as well. No need to come see them if your body is telling you to rest.

Golden Cheese Similar to Dark Cacao, she isn't scared to break the 4th wall to tell you to sleep, besides. Perhaps you're too tired to realise your cookie "game" is talking to you. She cares a lot for your health, and while, sure sleeping when you're tired is fine.

Seeing you seemingly push yourself awake before inevitability falling asleep worries her. She doesn't mind if she's stuck wandering aimlessly around your kingdom, stuck being in her defeated or celebrating animation. Her main concern is you, oh she wishes she could tuck you into bed and put your phone away. She's heard from others that it seems to burn up your phone a lot...she'd rather you not wake up to a scorching phone.

Hollyberry doesn't release it quickly, she's continuing to celebrate, she thinks perhaps you went to quickly do something but when she looks at you she sees your peaceful sleeping face. Awe you look so cute, but didn't know know it wasn't a good idea to sleep next to your phone? Especially with it charging (let's hope it isn't)

She finds it sweet, thinking about how tired you must've been before falling into a slumber but still tapping on the game to finish up some things. You didn't need to do that, most cookies are fine without seeing you. You should've went to bed as soon as you yawned she thinks. She won't lecture you though, even if she could/wanted too. She may advise you to head to bed earlier though if you can. The more sleep you have, the more energy you'll have so this won't happen again.

Shadow Milk At first he doesn't notice, trying every trick in the book to get you to look and pay attention to him. Thankfully for him, he's one of the few cookies you "expect" to break the 4th wall, his attempts stop as he hears you snore.

Finally realising you fell asleep. At first he was a teeny bit offended, thinking you fell asleep during his shows until he remembered you don't even know they're real...wait how long ago did you sleep? Don't tell him he's been trying to get the attention of a sleeping person.

Gods now he looks like an insane person...at least that's what you seem to like about him. He continues watching you sleep for a bit, up till either the phone battery runs out or the phone naturally closes due to inactivity.

Or if it lets him continue watching he will, he finds you rather pretty when you sleep

Mystic Flour she notices the moment you fall asleep, the moment your eyes shut innocently to capture those Zs. She stares motionless at your sleeping form. Enjoying the sight, that does sound creepy but she claims it's to ensure you have a peaceful nap.

And if anyone nearby tries to make a loud sound, whether intentionally or not, she isn't afraid to stare daggers at them until they stop. You need your beauty rest after all, though if you ask her. She thinks any more would be overkill, she finds you rather ethereal afterall.

Burning Spice probably nearly woke you up, it isn't until the other beasts shush more. Mystic Flour glaring at him and Shadow Milk covering his mouth while pointing does he shut up about how boring it's been without activity and where you went.

Well at least he got his answer, now I feel he'd love to wake you up, he'll definetly find your shock rather entertaining (and shadow milk would be lying if he said he wasn't curious) but...damn you look peaceful as hell...maybe he'll be quiet.

Sure he's still bored as well waiting till you wake up, but if it's for you to get some much needed rest so you could cause more destruction in arena? So be it, he'd prefer not to do it again but...He supposes he wouldn't mind seeing your sleeping form again

[standfucker]

Post-Injury Hurt/Comfort Series - Law, Shanks, Mihawk, Rosinante, Blackbeard

Characters: Law, Shanks, Mihawk, Rosinante, Blackbeard

Reader: GN (afab in Rosi's)

Word Count: 5.7k

CW: blood, gore, graphic depictions of injury, stitches, sepsis

Summary: Continuing the series. Blackbeard's is more of a small bonus drabble that came to me, so his doesn't meet the 1k minimum I was shooting for in these. (And Rosi's went way over...)

Ao3 Link

Law

Your opponent is quicker than you're used to. As a cat mink, his reflexes are far better than yours. However, he fights unarmed while you use twin short swords, so you're able to keep some distance between you and even the playing field.

You tilt your head left to avoid his swipe, claws barely missing your face. Acting quickly, you return with a jab that pierces his armor and stabs into his shoulder. He hisses in pain and you grin–that's one arm he can't use anymore.

Your moment of confidence makes you slip up. Focused on the movement of his remaining arm, you're taken by surprise when he suddenly kicks one of your swords right out of your hand. He hasn’t used kicks at all until now, likely to catch you off-guard like this. Before you can recover, he follows up by thrusting his claws into your chest, digging in and unleashing electricity into your body.

Law looks over just in time to see you drop like a stone. “Y/n-ya!” he shouts–but you're unresponsive. He turns to Bepo, fighting by his side. “Bepo! Count to two, then kick as hard as you can where I am!”

Bepo, wisened to Law’s tactics, nods. “Aye-aye!”

Law flexes his fingers. “Room!”

The sphere of his power expands wide to cover the battlefield. He swaps places with the cat mink, hearing it yowl a moment later as Bepo’s foot connects with its gut. Grabbing your arm, he creates one more room from where he is and teleports you both to its perimeter, a safe distance from the fight. Aside from some bloody claw marks, he can't see major injuries.

“Scan!” Law calls, voice tinged with panic as his ability checks your vitals. To his horror, the scan of your body shows your heart has stopped entirely, and his own seems to follow suit. He quickly removes your heart from your body, holding it in his hand. Focusing, he runs his own electric current through your heart in a swift, measured jolt.

The muscle twitches once and remains still.

“No, no, come on.” Law tries again. Zap. No response. “Don’t you do this.” He tries again. Zap. And again, no response. “Come back.” Zap. Your heart is still.

This time, he uses both hands and runs a higher voltage, shouting, “Come back right now!” Your heart jumps–then, finally, starts to beat. The relief is almost nauseating.

Clutching your heart to his chest with one hand, Law tilts your jaw open with his other hand and seals his mouth over yours, delivering rescue breaths until he feels you start to breathe on your own.

Slowly, your eyes open, your breaths shallow but even. He's hovering right over your head, looking into your eyes. “Law?”

“Just stay still.” He runs another scan, making sure everything's running normally.

You try to get up, fighting the sluggishness of your body. “The fight–”

“It’s still going. Lie down.” Law pushes your shoulder, forcing you to recline.

“Then you need to go help them.”

“The rest of the crew has it handled. I'm not leaving you.”

You’re not sure what happened–everything went black while you were fighting–but whatever it was, it must have been bad if Law’s saying that. Still, you’re eager to rejoin the battle. “Am I going to die?” you ask stubbornly as you try to sit up again.

“Don't be ridiculous. I'd never let that happen. Lie down, Y/n-ya.”

Law doesn't let you fight. He doesn’t even let you get up, not until he's checked everything–blood pressure, oxygen level, potential blood clots, your ability to follow commands–and even then, he doesn't give you your heart back, stating he needs to keep an eye on it for a while “just in case.” The battle ends in victory, and you walk back to the crew with a square hole in your chest.

You don't know much about electric shock effects, but you suppose it's okay to make sure your heart hasn't been thrown out of rhythm. It is weird to go about your day with the hole in your body. And it’s weird to feel Law’s fingers around your heart. It’s difficult to describe–a sort of warm, sensitive, almost ticklish physical contact that you feel within your chest, despite it being outside your body. Every time Law picks up your heart, you’re aware. You don’t know where he keeps it, but it must be somewhere on his person; you feel it at random throughout the day or as you’re laying in bed at night. You can infer he stays up late, as you often fall asleep to the sensation of him holding it in his hand. 

Throughout all those days, you’ve never felt more secure, never slept more soundly than when you do knowing he’s keeping your very heart safe by his side.

Every day Law does another exam, taking the time to run a scan on your body. It seems a bit excessive to you, but you’re not about to tell him that. You’re just grateful for the attention, truth be told. You and Law have been close for a while now, even exchanging some fond words in the rare moments you’re alone, but neither of you have the courage to risk damaging your friendship. But having him literally hold onto your heart makes you feel linked to him in a way you never have before, and it’s driving you insane.

“All clear?” you ask as Law finishes another scan.

“Yes, you look good,” he says, making your cheeks warm at the phrasing, “though, occasionally your heart rate picks up when you’re at a resting state. I haven’t figured out why yet, but I will.” He holds up your heart in front of his face, scratching his beard with his other hand as he thinks. “Like now.”

That answer is fairly obvious to you, and entirely his fault. Watching him inspect your heart so closely makes you oddly nervous. And he puts his hands on you during these exams, too, feeling lymph nodes on your neck and instructing you to breathe in and out while he listens to your lungs. What are you supposed to do? You can’t help it. It’s involuntary.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

Well, there was a hole where your heart should be that only he could fill. But you don’t say that. You just mumble, “I feel fine.”

“You always say that.”

“It’s always true.” Aside from some fatigue in the beginning, you’ve otherwise been back to normal. “What do you think? Can I have it back?”

He thinks for a second. “Alright, one more day, then, just to be safe. Do you mind?”

“No, I don’t,” you say. “It’s weirdly comforting, to be honest.”

“How?” Law looks at you incredulously. “I could crush your heart in my hand right now.”

Of course that would be his perspective. The risk of trusting someone so intimately isn’t lost on him. But after all these years, you would easily trust Law with your life, so you simply shrug. “You wouldn’t break my heart, would you?”

He stiffens. Surely you didn’t mean for it to come out that way, but the way you say it–so earnestly, so innocently, looking at him with those big doe eyes of yours–he can’t help but feel a pang of longing. He desperately wants to protect you, to make right where he failed in the past. Law wants to reassure you, to bring you comfort that he hasn’t figured out how to give.

Instead, he says, “No.”

“Promise?” you ask softly.

“I promise, Y/n-ya.” Your heart beats faster in his hand. Law looks down at it, then at you, and there’s a flash of understanding in his eyes.

“Okay,” you say. If he’s finally figured it out, maybe…maybe this is your chance. “Prove it.”

“How?” He looks a bit shocked, and the way his eyes keep flitting between your heart and your face tells you that he knows exactly how. 

You’re slow in your approach, and even slower when you put your arms around his neck, giving him plenty of time to back away. He’s uncertain, frozen in place, but if he wants you to stop, he isn’t saying so.

You lean in. Law closes his eyes. Your heart beats like crazy in his hand.

You kiss him. Just a brief, soft touch of your lips.

“Law,” you breathe. “Was that okay?”

Law responds by cupping your cheek and pulling you in for another.

Afterwards, he jokes that he doesn’t want to give your heart back. But that’s alright. Truth be told, he’d stolen it a long time ago.

Shanks

You return to consciousness through a cloud of black spots in your eyes, flashing in and out of your vision like raindrops on glass. It's immediately accompanied by the piercing whine of your ears ringing. You can’t hear anything else, nor can you tell where you are. A battle…you were pretty sure there was a battle. 

The spots recede to the edges of your vision, and you can see a cloudy sky, filling with gray smoke. You’re on your back. Faintly, you can hear shouts, filtering in through the shrill whine. A few seconds later, your brain starts putting names to the voices. Yasopp, Benn, Shanks.

Your captain’s face fills your vision a moment later. Instantly, you know something is very, very wrong, because you’ve never seen Shanks look panicked before. It’s just not an emotion in his repertoire. Always cool, always collected, always joyful, until now. He’s shouting something–your name.

“–you hear me? Just hang on. Hongo’s on his way. Fuck, fuck!”

“...Shanks…” you rasp, dimly becoming aware of your body. “What happened…?”

“It’s my fault, I didn’t stop them in time, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

It’s distant, but pain starts trickling through your body. Dull, throbbing pain, everywhere. Well, almost everywhere.

“It’s okay,” you say, trying to raise your head to assess yourself.

“Don’t!” Shanks stops you with a hand on your forehead. “Don’t move.”

Gradually, you start remembering the battle. The chaos, the noise. Now, there’s no more sound except the ringing in your ears, so it must be over. You were fighting someone who specialized in explosives, that was it. That explained the hurt, and the confusion.

“I was hit,” you say slowly.

Shanks just nods, looking grim.

Benn appears on your other side, crouching next to you and frowning. You search his face for an idea of the damage, but he keeps it carefully still as he looks you up and down. Then his eyes meet Shanks’, and they exchange a look that gives you a bad feeling.

As the ringing dies down just a little and your vision clears, the pain grows. It’s distracting, more so than you’re used to, but what’s even more distracting is the particular lack of it where it should be.

“...Shanks?” you say. “I can’t feel my leg.”

His lower lip wobbles, and then his lips press together in a tight, thin line, and that’s when you know. You lift your head to try and see, but he stops you again. “Don’t look. It’s better if you don’t look.”

It’s funny–he looks like the one on the verge of falling apart. You hate to see him so distraught, so unlike himself, all his cheerful confidence vanished.

“It’s my left leg…” you say.

“Yeah...”

“That means we match.”

He smiles ruefully, tears breaking from his lash line and running free. “Yeah.”

“It’s gonna be okay,” you say, reaching for his hand.

He takes it gently. “That’s my line.”

Coping is a funny thing. You spend most of your energy post-surgery comforting Shanks. Not because he can’t handle it by himself, and not because he asks you too. It’s just easier to externalize the situation, to make it about his self-blame rather than address the gaping loss of your body.

Shanks tries to hide it from you, to not burden you, but you know him too well. Eventually, you get tired of how he drinks himself into a stupor most nights. You get tired of how your crutches irritate your armpits, tired of how you keep losing balance, tired of the phantom pains that shoot through nerves that aren’t there anymore. You snap at him. You shout. You cry that blaming himself won’t regrow your leg, so can’t he please just be there for you? You need him–you’ve always needed him–now more than ever before.

It’s an ugly, broken confession, but it finally reaches him.

Shanks pulls you in close and apologizes. His eyes are moist even though he’s not usually a crier, overwhelmed by what he’s put you through, overwhelmed that you’re finally admitting your feelings under such nightmarish conditions.

“I love you,” he whispers, over and over. “I love you.”

Healing is both easier after that, and yet harder. Now, with no distraction from your loss, you have to face it head on. It’s easier because he’s there. That he’s been through this before makes you cling to him more than you would have, surrounding yourself in the grim comforts of someone who understands. Shanks holds you tight on those nights when you scream “it’s gone,” over and over, lets you squeeze his hand when you have phantom pain, helps you shower when you can’t manage it by yourself, supports you on your first shaky steps using the prosthetic. The recovery journey is an arduous one, but you make it out the other side closer than ever before.

Years later, it’s something you can joke about without feeling that twinge of loss, especially when your crewmates call you and Shanks a complementary set. Now that you’re finally official with him and back to your full battle capacity, you can appreciate what happened to you for what it proved: that together, you and Shanks are complete.

Mihawk

You and Mihawk were opposite sides of the same coin. As different as you could be from each other, but still inexplicably connected as longtime rivals. Being warlords was the only thing you really had in common: He was a swordsman, you used guns; he sailed alone, you commanded a large crew; his colors of arms was better, your colors of observation was better. He preferred not to talk much, while you loved to egg him into trading banter. Many clashes with each other throughout the years solidified your strange, thrilling rivalry until you looked forward to the rare times you ran into each other.

Nowadays, you only really see each other during warlord meetings. So, when you were ambushed by your own crew, Mihawk was the last person you expected to save you.

He took out the four men holding you down, tossed you your pistols, and fought by your side. Your crew wasn’t weak by any means– you hand-picked them to sail with you–and had you been alone, you wouldn't have survived. With your combined strength, however, the battle was over quickly.

It surprised Mihawk, then, that you didn't stick around to bother him like you usually did. You fired a smoke round and disappeared. He figured that you were demoralized from the mutiny and didn't have it in you, but when the smoke cleared, he saw tell-tale drops of blood where you were. 

Mihawk finds you in an abandoned shed not far from the battle. You're panting, hunched down against the wall and facing away from him, a first aid kit at your feet. He's as quiet as a cat when he approaches, but naturally you sense him anyway.

“How did you find me?” you ask without looking up.

“I followed the blood trail,” he says flatly. “You should have stemmed the flow before running off.”

“I’m working on it.”

“Did you tie a tourniquet first?” he asks, and even from there he can see you roll your eyes.

“Can’t. It’s not in the right place.” You raise shaky arms to your head, fiddling with something–stitches, most likely.

“Let me see.”

You glare at him for a moment, eyes uncharacteristically hard and angry. Then you quietly relent by turning, letting him see your other side. There’s a long, deep gash going from your temple down to your neck. Still oozing blood, he can't see for sure, but estimates it's gone down to the bone. You’ve got a few crude, clumsy stitches started in the top, the needle hanging from the wire, but without being able to see what you’re doing, it’s a piss poor job.

Mihawk wordlessly approaches you and crouches down, sharp gold eyes fixed on your wound. “It needs to be redone,” he says, unsheathing Kogatana and cutting through your stitches. You don’t so much as flinch when he pulls the wires out–you wouldn’t dare in front of him, he supposes. He’d likely do the same. Maybe you were more alike than he thought. 

He takes the first aid kid from the ground and re-threads the needle, then starts to stitch your wound, pressing gauze to soak up the blood as he goes. “It's deep,” he says.

”That explains why it stings so bad,” you mumble. While you successfully resist the urge to wince, you can’t stop yourself from tearing up. “Man…”

“It could be worse. It went down to your skull, but the bone itself wasn't damaged.”

“What, are you trying to cheer me up?” You turn to look at him, but he tilts your chin back to the side and chides you to hold still.

You exhale harshly through your nose at the unpleasant sensation. “I hate needles,” you say suddenly. “I hate sharp things in general. The thought of a blade going through skin gives me the creeps.” He doesn’t respond, and you feel awkward, but you continue anyway, feeling the words tumbling out of you before you can stop them. “I’ve teased you about using swords, but the truth is, I could never.”

Mihawk doesn’t pause in his stitching, only hums. “If it’s worth anything, I’m a terrible shot.”

The corner of your lip twitches up. It does make you feel a little better, to be honest. 

You glance at the swordsman as he works. His eyes are always so much more intense up close. You used to find it unsettling, but right now, focused as they are on your wound, it just seems oddly endearing. You glance away, blinking quickly, and a tear breaks from your lash line.

When Mihawk pauses to wipe it away, it’s so fluid and unhesitating that you debate if it really happened at all. Warmth creeps into your cheeks, and you avoid looking at him.

“Hey, ‘Hawk,” you say.

“What?”

You stare at the ground carefully. “Why did you help me?”

He’s quiet for a while, perhaps thinking about his answer, perhaps just keeping up his mysterious image.

“You’re the only one who’s ever successfully shot me,” he finally says. “To think someone of your caliber would be taken out by such cowardly tactics doesn’t sit right with me.”

You let that sink in while he finishes his work, tying off the stitches and applying the bandages. It’s weird–all the times you’ve bickered, all the times you’ve fought with lethal intent, and yet you trust with all your heart that Mihawk won’t harm you right now.

You’ve let your guard down too much, you think to yourself. That’s how you missed the warning signs of your crew’s mutiny, that’s how you got injured in battle, that’s how you’ve let Mihawk get this close.

Even then, you find yourself leaning your head into his hand. He doesn’t say anything, just brushes his thumb over your cheek.

The reality of what you’re doing hits you a moment later, and you quickly stand up, only for the world to spin and your knees to buckle.

Mihawk catches you easily. “You've lost a lot of blood.”

“It'll refill,” you mumble.

“In time. You need to rest.”

“Alright, alright,” you say. His hold is so secure, you kind of never want him to let go. Damn, you have lost a lot of blood. “I owe you for this, Mihawk. Somehow I'll pay you back.”

“How about dinner?” he asks, and you’re so caught off-guard that you stare owlishly.

“H-Hey, come on, now,” you say, but Mihawk has never really been one to joke. There's a crack in your confident demeanor. “Serious?”

“Serious.” He takes your hand, raising it to his lips, and kisses your knuckles.

Rosinante

“It’s not a fucking show,” you snap at the crew, crowded around where you are in the med bay of the Numenca Flamingo. Doflamingo is bent over the wound in your side, a string attaching his finger to the bullet still inside. Corazon holds your body down.

“You gonna scream?” Diamante teases cruelly, but you roll your eyes.

“You’d like that, huh, you sick–FUCK!” you shriek at the end as Doflamingo yanks out the bullet, body jerking against Corazon's iron grip. Diamante and Trebol both chuckle like the bastards they are, but Doflamingo waves them and the rest away as he moves in to disinfect the area.

You shiver, fighting not to tear up in front of the two of them. It is of the utmost importance not to show weakness around Doflamingo. After years of dedication and rigorous work, you’ve clawed your way into a promotion from a top Donquixote Pirate to one of the people in his Family.

It’s imperative, as an undercover Marine, that you don’t lose this chance. Your job is to support Corazon. You’d rather not cry in front of him, either, but that’s more about pride than anything else.

Doflamingo traces your hip as he finishes sewing you up with his string. “Buffalo said you took the bullet for Baby 5.” 

You stiffen at his touch, an oddly soft contrast to the string that nonetheless makes you ill at ease. “Yes, Young Master.” Are you in trouble? You don’t want to act soft, but you couldn’t stand by and let a child get shot, either.

“I see,” he says, and you hold your breath. “I’d expect no less from someone I hand-picked.”

He pats your head once, then leaves the room, and relief courses through your veins alongside the adrenaline.

Corazon gives you a look you can’t decipher. He doesn’t speak to you, of course–too risky. His voice is a distant memory at this point, all the way from back when you were in training together.

A few uneventful days pass as the crew sails back to base with their spoils. The pain in your side seems to spread to right below your gut, intensifying as it goes. The wound area isn’t red or swollen, so you realize you must have gotten your period on top of everything. Great.

You’re the unlucky type that suffers from hellish, unpredictable menstruation, the pain often debilitating enough to put you out of commission until it abates. It was easier to cover up back in the Marines, feigning illness, but you wouldn’t be granted such liberties in the pirate world. You've had to fight through the agony to keep up your appearance as a tough-as-nails pirate commander. It seemed you were being tested again, as now you had to resist while under watch of the Family.

The cramps continue to get worse by the day until you’re nauseated from the pain. You end up vomiting over the side of the ship more than once, which you claim is from eating bad food. You try everything to take your focus off the pain. Meditation, breathing exercises. But for some reason, it just keeps getting worse. There’s one day where it seems to slightly abate, and you go to bed believing you’re past the worst of it, only to wake up the next day in complete, room-spinning agony. Moving makes it worse, every time you go to the bathroom or help with the ship tasks it feels like you might pass out. You can’t get comfortable no matter which position you lay in, and you sweat like crazy even though it’s cold.

You’re shaky while you help haul in ropes, thoughts so consumed by how terrible you feel that you jump when Corazon taps your shoulder. He scribbles something on his notepad, then shows it to you. 

‘You look like shit.’

“That obvious?” you ask, even as your guts and head both swim in a thick fog of pain. Corazon scribbles some more.

‘Your pain tolerance is high. This is unusual for you.’

“It’ll pass,” you respond, turning away from him. He starts writing letters on your back, something he does to make absolutely sure no one can read your conversation later through his notepad.

‘Worried.’

The guilt eats at you before he can even finish writing it. As Doflamingo’s right hand, Corazon has himself to worry about. You’re supposed to make his job easier, not be dead weight. So even though this is the worst it’s ever been, even though you just want to cry at how much it hurts, you steel yourself. You can’t crumble now. “I’ll be okay, Cora,” you dismiss.

Law stands at the foot of your hammock that night as you writhe, a curious Baby 5 next to him.

“What do you want, Law,” you grit out.

“List your primary symptoms,” Law says. You glance at him to see he’s holding a notepad and pencil. “Also, you should let me look at how your wound’s healing.”

“I don’t need the opinion of an eight year old,” you spit, the pain making you lash out. You’ve already looked at your wound, you’ve dealt with many in the past, and the area around your incision looks fine.

Law clenches his fists, irritated. “You’re being a real bitch.”

Baby 5 gasps. Law shoots her a glare that makes her whimper and hide behind your hammock. He mutters to himself as he storms out.

“Why don’t you tell someone if you’re feeling bad?” Baby 5 asks timidly once Law’s gone.

“Because,” you say, taking a deep breath to try to focus on getting the words out. “I don’t have a devil fruit. My haki abilities are rudimentary. I can’t fall behind, Baby 5. I want to be useful to the Young Master.”

“I don’t understand.”

“One day you’ll get cramps, and hopefully they won’t be this bad. But when it happens, you have to be tough and not let anyone know. It’s looked down upon by those who don’t get them. You’ll be left behind…”

“That’s gonna happen to me?” Baby 5 looks worried.

You try to reassure her that since she’s handled everything the adults have thrown at her thus far, she’ll be fine. Baby 5 doesn’t look convinced, but you don’t have it in you to care right then.

By the next day the pain is so searingly, blindingly intense that no amount of willpower can overcome it. You’re woken up by it, and this time it’s unmatched by all the previous days combined. It feels like someone’s poured molten lava into your guts. It feels like your organs are being ripped out of your body. Pressing a pillow into your gut gives you a fraction of relief, but even the slightest relief is like heaven when the pain is that bad–until you’re ripped back down, not to earth, but to hell, and it’s agony all over again.

Somehow, you manage to get out of your hammock, only to end up on your knees on the floor, holding your stomach and making pitiful noises.

Distantly, you get the sensation that Corazon is writing words on your back, but you’re so out of it that you can’t parse them.

“Need help,” you whimper, voice breaking.

Corazon sends someone to get Doflamingo, who has Law assess you. After taking your vitals and pressing on your abdomen (you’ve never considered killing a child before, but it hurts so bad that you scream) Law declares you need to be hospitalized immediately, and also says he told you so just to rub salt in the wound.

It’s a miracle that there’s an island within a few hour’s sail. You don’t remember those hours very well. It’s in and out, coming and going with the waves of pain. All you remember is Corazon, staying by your side the entire time. He keeps the crueler Family members away from you, lets you squeeze his hand for comfort, holds your hair back when you throw up. When you make it to the island, he’s the one to carry you to the hospital.

You get palpated again by the hospital doctors (your own special hell) while Corazon holds your hand, get scanned by a machine, and finally diagnosed with a severe infection that’s gone septic. Post-surgery finally has you in relief, doped up on painkillers, but very, very weak.

Recovery is its own trial. Combined with the strength of the painkillers, plus your body fighting off the infection, you see things when you close your eyes. You’re not sure if members of the Family come to visit you, or if you’re imagining they were there. The only constant is Corazon.

You wake up one night to see him hunched over in a too-small chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. Even half-awake, you get the sudden sense that he’s trying not to cry. He probably wouldn’t want to see you like that, and you’re so, so tired still, so you go back to sleep.

You dream that he speaks to you. Perhaps it’s a memory, but when you wake up, you see his silhouette in the door.

“Cora?” You smile, lifting your head, but your smile dies when you see Doflamingo stepping inside. 

“Young Master,” you say weakly. Why is he visiting you alone? What could he possibly want, aside from telling you that you were demoted?

“Baby 5 was inconsolable,” he starts, sauntering up to your bed. “Someone told her she’d suffer the same condition that you did. Then she said something strange...” He trails a hand on the railing of your bed as he walks up to your side, looming over you. “She begged us not to abandon her.” You feel your blood run cold as Doflamingo grins. “What a silly notion.”

You open your mouth to speak, but can’t find the words. He reaches out a hand to brush back your hair and cup your cheek. It takes everything in you not to flinch away.

“Could it be, perhaps, you thought I’d abandon you, Y/n?” he asks, your daunted face reflected crimson in his sunglasses.

Swallowing, you nod, and he grips your chin harshly.

“In your concern, you almost got yourself killed,” he says. “I selected you to join me for a reason. You're no good to me dead. Do you understand?”

You nod quickly, and after another terrifying moment where he stares into your eyes–maybe your soul–he finally leaves.

Corazon writes furiously later, berating you for being so dismissive of your own condition. 

‘You were on death’s door! Your CRP was over 200!’ 

“How much is it supposed to be?”

‘Zero! Fool!!’

You apologize endlessly, and more so as he helps you recover, until he gets sick of your apologies, too–but when he takes your hand, his gaze is soft.

From here on out, no more suffering alone, he writes into your palm, we fight together.

He holds your hand in both of his larger ones and, doing a quick check to make sure you’re still alone, brushes his lips against the tips of your fingers.

Suddenly you understand just how much he’s longed not to fight alone in his mission, and how important it is for you to be there. You bow your head, pull his hands so they’re at your chest, and kiss the back of one. “I understand.”

Blackbeard

Comparatively, you are the better in sheer physical strength to your opponent, but the other pirate outspeeds you. You fail to dodge back far enough from the downward stab of his dagger, and it sinks into the meat of your thigh.

You snarl in pain while he roars in triumph. His roar gets cut off as you suddenly grab his throat.

“Insect!” you snarl as you squeeze hard, grinding his windpipe to his spine. He flails, making horrid choking noises and digging his nails into your hand. There’s a brief struggle where he tries to reach the dagger in your thigh, but you grab his wrist before he can and, with a surge of armament haki, snap it in your grip. He can’t even cry out like this, just writhes around like mad, and you wait a few more seconds before the blood flow is cut off to his brain for too long, and he goes limp.

The rest of the crew watches from the seats of the bar as you snap his neck sharply before letting him drop. The other patrons of the seedy bar cheer, and cash is begrudgingly exchanged while you hobble back to the Blackbeard Pirates. Doc Q starts to look over your leg as you lean against the bar.

“Thirty seconds,” Lafitte says, looking at his pocket watch, “you said it would take you ten.”

“Shut the fuck up, Lafitte,” you warn. The pain wracking through your leg gives you no patience for his snide commentary. “Or I’ll choke you out next.”

“Promise?”

In an instant, you yank the knife out of your thigh and stab it into Lafitte’s so deep it’s almost at the hilt. He screams while Doc Q yells at you, “Don’t pull out the knife–!”

“They fucking stabbed me!” Lafitte shrieks as Blackbeard, Burgess and Auger burst out into laughter. 

“I missed your femoral on purpose,” you grumble. “Next time I won’t.”

Doc Q rushes to stem the bleeding from your thigh, and you cross your arms, trying to quell your temper. Because the Doc has to sew you up first, Lafitte will have to wait a while with that dagger sunken into his leg. It’s a fitting punishment, but you still kind of want to kill him.

Blackbeard, wearing his shitty grin, drapes his arm around your shoulders. You throw him a warning look that he ignores, as usual. Most times he does this, you push his arm away and otherwise reject him to his face. This is one of the rare times you don't. You’re still in a lot of pain, and there’s pretty much nowhere else–no one else–on this planet that you could get a comforting touch from. You let him hold you to his side, if only to abate the burning of your injury, and ever so slightly, you feel your rage boil down to a simmer.

“Better, trinket?” Blackbeard asks you, smirking.

“No,” you lie.

[harunayuuka2060]

*MC's family came to visit the Royal Palace.*

Falena, Leona, and Kifaj: ...

MC's father: Thank you for granting us permission to visit today. I sincerely appreciate the opportunity.

MC's brother: Yo, ex-brother-in-law~! Looking good today, aren't we? *waves at Leona with a goofy smile*

Leona: *scoffs*

MC's sister: Can't you be the least respectful, brother?

MC's brother: I don't know. Stop being delusional first. I might consider you.

MC's sister: *glares*

MC's father: Behave. Both of you.

MC's father: *bows his head to Leona and Falena* Please excuse my children's behavior.

Falena: No, no. It's fine. Though I wonder why have you decided to pay a visit all of a sudden?

MC's father: *raises his head* *and looks at them straight in the eye*

MC's father: I want to meet my grandson.

Falena and Leona: ...

Falena: *smiles awkwardly* Please forgive me, but MC has... strictly instructed us that you should talk to them first before seeing Prince Liora.

MC's sister: How rude! They're just a commoner and they dare to instruct the Royal Family?!

Kifaj: Miss, I would like to point out that you are the one being rude to the one who gave birth to the prince.

MC's sister: E-Excuse me?!

MC's brother: We just need to ask them, right? Can you tell us where they are?

Leona: In my room, resting.

MC's sister: Y-Your room? But... aren't you two divorced? You shouldn't even-

Leona: Who are you to tell me what to do? You're just my former sister-in-law.

MC's brother: True! *nodding*

MC's sister: *hits him*

MC's father: I see that His Royal Highness still cares about MC.

Leona: ...

Leona: *smirks* Hey, father. Can I ask you something?

MC's father: Of course, Your Royal Highness.

Leona: I want to marry MC under the divine law of transcendentals.

Leona: Will that be possible?

MC's father: ...

MC's father: Prince Leona, you and MC are already married under the divine law.

Leona: !!!

Falena and Kifaj: *surprised to hear that information*

Falena: Goodness! Is that true?

MC's father: Yes. However, if the spouse who is not a transcendental decides not to acknowledge their divine marriage, they can do so.

Leona: Heh. So spiritually, we're still a couple? *smiling*

MC's father: Yes.

MC's sister: *is on the verge of tears*

MC's brother: Ooh... I know that hurts. *funnily side-eyeing his sister*

Kifaj: It seems the information has left a smile on your face, Your Royal Highness.

Leona: Is it?

MC's brother: Now all you have to do is to make them fall in love with you.

Kifaj and Leona: !!!

MC's brother: *has been following them from behind*

MC's brother: Yo! *smiles*

Kifaj: Sir, I thought you had already left...

MC's brother: Hm? I want to see my baby nephew! And father asked me to take pictures! *does a peace sign*

Leona: I don't think MC will approve it. Go home.

MC's brother: Eh? We're not close, sure. But we're not enemies either.

Leona: ...

Leona: Anyway, about what you said earlier-

MC's brother: You want suggestions? :3

Leona: ...

MC: Why did you suddenly ask me to play chess?

Leona: I just remembered that you like playing this.

MC: *looks at him, trying to discern his intention*

Leona: ...

MC: ...

MC: What did my stupid brother tell you?

Leona: ...

Leona: *sigh*

Leona: He said that one of the reasons you agreed to marry me was because I was good at playing chess.

MC: Hm. He's not wrong.

Leona: ...

Leona: Really?

MC: Yes.

Leona: How come? *couldn't hide his interest*

MC: ...

MC: *recalls how Leona looks beautiful while crushing his opponent*

MC: Beat me in this game and I will tell you.

Leona: *smirks* Okay.

*After a few minutes*

MC: Checkmate.

Leona: ...

Prince Liora: *giggles*

Leona: *frowns* I want another round.

MC: Hm. Alright. It seems entertaining for Liora. We can continue so he can watch how you lose.

[the-lazyyy-artist]

crush yukimiya kenyu x fem!reader

Summary: it seemed so distant, yet seeing him now, you get reminded of your pathetic pining towards him years ago.

Tags and Themes: cringe and awkward, high school setting, reader has a big fat crush, yukki being who he is, loosely based on a true story, mentions of other blue lock boys, reo being your bf lmao

Author's note: this happened to me personally. high school crush and s/o are currently friends, and I'm surprised he knows me lmao wtf. anyway, enjoy the story! reblogs, likes, and comments are much appreciated!

@fishii28 @x3nafix ✨

Crazy how it's been years since you met him.

You stood awkwardly in the restaurant where your boyfriend and his friends decided to meet for a little get-together. You knew it was someone's birthday, but you forgot who it was. However, everyone was familiar; there was Nagi, then Karasu, then that guy with a streak on his hair that you always forget his name and Rin. Most of all, there he was, your high school crush who you never thought you'd meet again at this age.

God, how long has it been?

Yukimiya Kenyu. Once you hear that name, expect a trail of girls squealing at his presence. He was not only good-looking; he was gentlemanly, kind, very intelligent, and an athlete. He was your school's most treasured player, a master at beating opponents 1-v-1. The girls in your school would try to catch his attention, and he would politely smile and wave at them. An angel, some would call him. The cherry on top is he's a model at a young age.

You transferred to his school in your 2nd year of High School. Typical, but it was for the best, your mother said once. It was pathetic. You skipped the first period two days in a row because you forgot where your class was. You could've asked, you knew that, but it took a lot of guts to approach someone and try not to look like a total idiot while doing it. Luckily, you found friends in your class: the prettiest girls to ever exist in your section. Chizu and Kimiko. You thought these two lovely, kind, and smart girls couldn't befriend a shy, simple, and awkward girl like you, but it worked. You ate lunch with them, laughed with them, and did your homework with them. They even helped you with math, which was great!

How'd you meet Yukimiya?

For context, you didn't know who the hell he was.

Every afternoon during the first months of the beginning of that school year, the football team would be training on the school's football field. The girls would spend too much time gawking at the athletes, calling their names, and squealing. It was a sad sight for you. You know the appeal of athletes. Heck, you had a few crushes of your own growing up because of your aunt and mom watching sports on TV, gushing over players they found attractive, and in return, you did too. Walking past the field, Chizu pulled you to the fence near the bleachers. "I need you to do me a favor," she said sweetly. "Sure, what is it?" You asked, smiling at her. You watched her smile back at her, then she turned you around, so you'd face the field. "Do you see that guy in purple?" she pointed, and you did. The guy in purple on the other side of the field, looking around at the players. I nodded and focused on him. "He's one of our friends; his name is Yukki. Can you call him for us so we could meet him?"

"Eh? Couldn't we just go around the fence and catch his attention there?" you asked, frowning. It was embarrassing to yell across the field, especially with the guys taking their break on the bleachers. "We can't," Chizu reasoned, "practice is ongoing. We need to call for him from here."

"Don't you guys have his phone number?" you asked again, now looking at Kimiko, hoping she'd find the logic in all of this. Sadly, they both shook their heads. You sighed and agreed with what Chizu asked you, earning small yays from them. With a deep breath, you held your hands around your mouth and yelled, "YUUUKKI!"

The guy in purple did not turn his head in your direction.

"YUKKI! HEY!"

Nothing.

"YUKKI! YUUUUKI!!! YUKKIIIIIII!!"

You got a little frustrated as you turned to look at both your friends, who were already snickering. "You're doing great! He might've not heard you. He has bad hearing, you see," Chizu said with a smile on her face. Kimiko beside her was having trouble holding her laughter. You felt a little embarrassed now, but you still called for Yukki several more times, and the guy across the field didn't budge.

"This is stupid, let's just go to him," you said, walking away. You heard Chizu and Kimiko burst into laughter as they pulled back, stopping you in your tracks. "I'm so sorry," Chizu said, "We're so sorry to play you like that! The guy Yukki you've been calling for the past 3 minutes now..."

She lifts her hand to point at the guy in the bleachers, looking confused. Him with his orange goggles and his messy brown hair. He was looking at your direction... no, at you, specifically.

"... It's him on the football team!"

You felt your knees buckle as you blushed widely, realizing that this prank ruined your reputation as the new girl. Now, everyone's gonna know you as the weird girl who screamed Yukimiya's name furiously on the field. You met Yukimiya's confused gaze, and you smiled at him awkwardly. You then took your leave, never turning back despite Chizu and Kimiko's calls.

The next month was horrible as you would avoid seeing Yukimiya in the halls or anywhere at school. You'd take a quick u-turn whenever you see his hair in the hallways, hear his voice ringing in the cafeteria, or hear girls calling his name because that meant he was nearby. Chizu and Kimiko teasing you about it for weeks didn't help, imitating your yells whenever you guys hung out or scaring you about Yukki being around. It was overbearing!

And in a turn of events, your avoidance turned into admiration. Crazy.

You began to watch him play, see how he moved on the field. He was amazing, crippling the other team with his footwork. Hearing more about him being a model and always being in the 1st section since 1st year amazed you, too. An intelligent and sporty guy sounds perfect at that time. The more you heard about how kind he was too, how he said hello to every girl who looked his way, and how he looked so clean and neat every day deepened your admiration towards him. Honestly, your friends already knew you'd like him eventually. Who wouldn't?

However, even though they pushed you to say hello to him, you never dared to. All you can do is look at him from afar as he laughed with his friends or as he practiced football on the field. You felt like there was no chance. You two were worlds apart. You were a nobody, and he was somebody everyone knew and admired. Heck, even the teachers liked him! They favored him for his courtesy and politeness, making him the role model for everyone at school.

3rd year came, and your pining increased as Yukimiya ran for the student body. It was a surprise when you received a letter on your desk with your name on it, your heart pounding in your chest as you opened the letter, and it was the most heartwarming letter you've read... though it was written in Microsoft Word. It was a little thank you letter for supporting him in everything he did and now as he ran for the student body. The best part is that he knew you. He knew your name. It made your whole day!

Until you found out how everyone in class received the same letter.

And that your class president submitted a list of your names to him for the campaign letter.

What a bummer.

The way it ruined your whole day was pathetic because you really had your hopes up. You thought that it was finally that moment where you could say there's a chance. You pined for Yukimiya for so long and all you can do is to watch him walk by, watch him laugh, and watch him...

Watch him give his second button to the prettiest girl in his class during graduation.

After leaving high school, you left your admiration for Yukimiya, no longer learning about his whereabouts.

Until tonight.

"Y/n, right?" Yukimiya asked, approaching where you stood. You must've looked stupid when he asked because he smiled widely at you and said, "Yeah, I know you."

"Oh, you do now?" You asked awkwardly. Yukimiya nodded and chuckled softly. "You were pretty memorable."

You laughed at him and shook my head, suddenly remembering the scream fest you held that day on the field. "Please," you said, "let's not talk about that. It was so embarrassing. I hated it." Yukimiya laughed as he cradled his glass. You both fell quiet for a moment, watching his teammates talk from afar. "I really wanted to be friends with you back then," he spoke softly. It was stupid how your heart was pounding so hard in your chest. Never in your life have you expected this to happen; to finally talk to him like a normal person and not as an awkward teen that you were before.

"I don't think we'd gel well, Yukki," you replied as you looked up at him. It's crazy how he still looked so beautiful. His orange eyes were still so soft as he gazed at you. His hair was still styled neatly and still kept his circular specs. It makes him look prettier.

"Who knows? You never knew how much of a weirdo I was in high school."

"Well, I never knew that."

"Weirdly, you're in a relationship with Reo," he said, nodding at Reo's way who was busy talking to Nagi. "Did you know we were teammates?"

"No," you lied. Then you heard him scoff jokingly. "Alright. I knew. I've been avoiding his invites to your get-togethers since everyone's girlfriends also join, and he feels like he's being left out because I don't come with him."

"Is it because of me?" Yukki asked. You nodded, and said, "I couldn't face you after my hopeless pining at you for two years before."

Yukki was about to respond when Reo jogged in your direction. "Baby!" Reo chimed, kissing your cheek. "I want to introduce you to Nagi. Remember Nagi?"

"Of course, I do!" You giggled, pulling him closer to you. "Thanks for keeping her company, Yukimiya," Reo said as he pulled you away from the brunette. You looked back at Yukki, and you saw him raise his glass to you, to which you smiled.

[sevikasupremacy]

Hey! Can you please do fem reader x Sevika, where they are enemies and they get in the fight where Sevika obviously dominates and kicks y/n's ass (but y/n also gives her back couple bad bruises), and when Sevika tells her not to stand up and to keep lying on the ground, y/n gets up bcuz she doesn't want to give up easily and it goes on and on for a couple of times, in the end Sevika gets impressed of it but however she stabs y/n and from that the y/n just passes. Y/n laying on the cold ground bleeding out, Sevika keeps standing right near her body and decides to take her and patch up.

Maybe a part two where y/n wakes up in panic & pain (like a couple of broken ribs, bunch of bruises and cuts on her face from Sevika's metal arm) and realizes that she is in Sevika's bedroom and Sevika is sitting near the bed. So y/n tries to act strong and okay, but once Sevika (who is also bruised up) stands up without saying anything and leans towards y/n, y/n can't keep hiding her true emotions and finally shows weakness and. vulnerability, especially when Sevika lifts the blanket. However she does that to change y/n's bandage from the wound when Sevika stabbed her.

And of course if you don't mind, perhaps after changing the bandage they finally have a talk, and even there both of them try to be dominating with each other. Everything finishes with y/n provokes Sevika that she could beat her if not Sevika's metal arm and Sevika decides to shut her down by kissing y/n. However, Sevika was shocked by y/n's reaction that she pulled her even closer right to top her injured body. Y/n feels weirdly safely by Sevika's body topping hers...

Oooo~ How did you know that I love writing enemies to lovers trope 🫢 Honestly I can definitely write this in one part so no need to wait for a part 2 ;)

(I also decided to take inspiration from Vi’s and Sevika’s fight scene, so there are similarities in this one shot.)

Rivalry to Romance - Sevika x Fem!Reader

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: Mentions of blood

Summary: A violent confrontation with Silco’s right hand woman unexpectedly turns into an intimate moment between the two of you.

Living in Zaun was never an easy task. It’s common to find yourself in near-death situations.

And you were a feisty one, picking fights whenever you could. You got used to coming home with cuts and bruises all over your body.

But ever since Silco took over the Last Drop, your life in the Undercity became much more…violent.

Not everyone accepted Zaun’s new leader but who would dare to go against Silco and his goons? Let’s just say that you knew plenty of people who were against Silco’s enterprise – and you were one of them.

What you hated the most was his right hand woman.

Arrogant, cruel, selfish – You had countless reasons to despise this woman.

And you couldn’t help but provoke her every time you had the chance. You weren’t afraid of the consequences.

⁍

“Fuck you.” You hissed, eyes filled with anger as you struggled to escape from your enemy’s grasp but there was no hope. Sevika snickered, tightening her grip causing you to wince in pain.

You cussed under your breath, lifting your knee to strike her in the groin.

“YOU-” Sevika growled, stumbling back as her shimmer-infused mechanical arm began to recharge. You wiped the blood from your nose, raising your iron staff in defense.

“Just give up already, Sweetheart.” The older woman smirked, still ready to attack you at any moment.

“I’m not your fucking Sweetheart.” You snapped, immediately charging toward your opponent, swinging your weapon toward her head.

Just before your iron staff could even come in contact with Sevika’s skull, her metal claws had already clutched it, bending it with a single motion.

Of course the shimmer gave her quick reflexes.

You clung to your broken weapon as Sevika swung you around but due to her strength, your grip faltered, causing your body to slam into a nearby brick wall.

You swore you heard your bones cracked.

“Shit…” You spat out blood, your legs struggling to move as you sat there exhaustingly. You took a few deep breaths before reaching your arms out, pressing your palms against the dusty brick wall to support your weight.

“I wouldn’t even try if I were you.” Sevika rolled her shoulder, her gray eyes subtly glowed in the dark as they prey on you.

“Fuck. You.” You growled, your trembling legs finally held you up, your back still leaning against the wall.

“How about less talking and more fighting hm?”

“You’re such a bitch.” You shouted before darting toward your bent iron staff, successfully retrieving it. It should suffice for now.

Sevika didn’t let you waste another second as she chased you, swinging her mechanical arm toward you. But you were prepared this time.

You dodged and blocked her attacks with your weapon, gradually getting used to her fighting tactics. You took your chance and glided behind her, striking the back of her head.

Sevika let out a low groan as she stumbled forward, shaking her head as she tried to regain focus.

You struck her again, hitting her head and calves, forcing her to kneel down.

Finally you were getting an advantage.

You kicked her back, earning another groan from your enemy as she fell forward, face-planting the cement ground.

“You really are something.” Sevika hissed as she rolled onto her back, her eyes still locked on you.

You smirked, tossing your iron staff to the side as you confidently sat on top of her, noticing Sevika’s smile turning into a frown.

“Finally giving up now huh?” You sneered, your thighs pinning her hips down as you wrapped your hands around her throat. You chuckled, convinced that you had won the battle against Silco’s number two and you couldn't be any happier. You couldn’t wait to boast to others about this achievement. Even better, you looked forward to mocking Sevika for her defeat.

“That’s what you get for underestimating m–”

But all those exciting thoughts were interrupted by a sharp, searing pain deep within your abdomen. You choked, eyes widening as you stared at your opponent, a devilish smile forming on her face.

Well fuck.

At least Sevika was nice enough to grant you a quick moment of victory before plunging her claws into you.

You tried to hold yourself up as long as you could but your strength was fading. The world seemed to spin around you as your unresponsive body swayed to the side, collapsing to the ground.

You laid there, unable to say another word as your eyes frantically tracked Sevika’s movement as she began to stand up.

Guess this might be your last moment on earth.

You let out a final breath and closed your eyes, your consciousness finally slipping away.

⁍

Your eyes fluttered open, only to be met with pitch black darkness.

You blinked a couple of times, contemplating whether you have been transported to the afterlife after the incident. You’re not surprised if you were already dead honestly. After all, the last thing you saw was Sevika’s foot as you laid in your own pool of blood.

You entire body was numb and you can’t even fully process where the fuck you were. So you’re now fully convinced that maybe you were dead — not after a good minute you realized you were laying on something super soft. Everything just felt so surreal.

“What the…” You groaned as you tried to sit up, completely forgetting about the deep stab wound on your abdomen.

“Don’t move.” A loud, booming voice echoed through the air, causing you to freeze.

Nevermind. You’re definitely not dead…yet.

You heard a soft click and before you knew it, the darkness instantly began to peel away, replaced with a warm, golden light.

You squinted your eyes, trying hard to adjust to the brightness. As you started getting familiar with the new lighting, your eyes landed on a figure sitting near you.

‘WHAT THE –” You jolted in shock, your head accidentally hitting the hard material behind your head, adding more pressure into your injuries.

“AH FUCK –”

“Now what did I just tell you?!” Sevika growled as she grabbed your shoulders, holding you down.

“HEY LET GO OF– MMMM?!”

Sevika’s hand clamped over your mouth, cutting you off mid-sentence. Your eyes widened as you tried your best to mumble a response but the words came out all muffled and incomprehensible.

“Oh for fuck sake STOP MOVING!” Sevika raised her voice in frustration, “Do you ever know when to fucking shut up?!”

You furrowed your eyebrows in anger, not showing any signs of stopping. You clawed at her hand, trying to pull it away from your mouth.

Sevika took a deep breath as she tried to calm down but failed as you continued to fuel her anger.

“Shut the fuck up will you?” Sevika finally let go of you as she glared.

“Well I have a mouth so I can do whatever I want with it.” You barked back, biting the inside of your cheek as you tried to endure the pain.

Sevika rolled her eyes, closing them as she tried her best not to beat the shit out of you again.

“You’re a pain in the ass.” The older woman groaned as she stretched her sore arms, trying hard not to pull a muscle.

“Did all this and didn’t even receive a proper thank you.”

“What?” You raised an eyebrow, confused about what she was referring to. That’s when you slowly lifted the blanket to see that your wound had been cleaned and bandaged.

“Oh.” You muttered, awkwardly biting your bottom lip.

She eyed you up and down before shifting her body closer to you.

“Woah woah–” You straightened your back and slid backwards until your back hits the bedpost, “What do you think you’re doing?”

You gasped as you saw Sevika’s claws move closer toward you. Your whole body tensed up, your eyes fixated on your reflection on her metal claws. Her expression was blank somehow – you couldn’t really process what was in her mind at the moment. But it’s probably murder. Murdering you in fact.

“WHAT ARE YO–”

Your breath hitched as you shut your eyes, finally succumbing to your fate.

Imagine dying in your enemy’s bed.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” The cold hair nipped your skin as Sevika lifted the blanket to examine the stab wound, “Stop being on edge.”

“How could I not be on edge? I’m literally in your bed. You could stab me again if you want.” You snapped back, your eyes fluttered open.

“If you don’t want to see death yourself then shut it,” Sevika shook her head in irritation, her eyes still fixed on the stab wound as she reached down to pull open the cabinet beside the bed which was designated for a nightstand, “Just relax.”

Sevika whipped out a bandage roll before looking back at your bewildered expression.

She rolled her eyes, trying to ignore your uncomfortable stare as she got to work, gently using her human hand to unwrap the soiled bandages around your waist.

You held your breath as Sevika examined your injured abdomen before throwing the dirty bandages in a nearby bin. Your body tensed up as you felt her touch once again. The older woman cautiously wrapped the clean bandages around your waist, making sure that they were secured. She stared at it for a second before looking back up at you.

“The fuck are you staring at?” Sevika grunted, somehow still glaring at you.

“I’m keeping an eye on you in case you have second thoughts.”

“Second thoughts on what?”

“I don’t know, maybe you’ll have the sudden urge to rip these bandages off and stab me again.” You cautiously pulled the blanket back to cover your wound.

“Oh for fuck sake.” Sevika scoffed, her hand finding its way to her temples, massaging them.

“If it wasn’t for your stupid robot arm I would’ve won.” You grumbled in annoyance as you crossed your arms, hearing a scoff coming from the older woman.

“Does anyone ever tell you how annoying you were?” Sevika interrupted you, hoping it would finally make you shut up but it didn’t work.

“If you want me to shut up then just kill me now. What are you waiting fo–”

Just as you were rambling on, you felt a pair of warm lips against yours. Your eyes widened in shock as you felt Sevika tilt her head to the side, deepening the kiss.

You were about to punch her in the face right then and tell her to get off of you but somehow you felt…relaxed.

Was it because you’d never kissed anyone before in your entire life? Or was it that you were starting to like the feeling of Sevika’s soft pair of lips –

Sevika stole your first kiss.

Your enemy stole your first kiss.

And you were kissing her back for fuck sake.

You hummed in satisfaction as you closed your eyes and slightly parted your lips, drowning in the rush of emotions that were dancing inside your chest.

Your hands found their way to Sevika’s collar, your fingers teasingly playing with the fabric.

“You’re really driving me crazy.” Sevika pulled away, whispering against your lips, her arms wrapping around your waist.

“Shut up.” You yanked her by the collar for another kiss.

Sevika hummed, her chest gently pressed against yours, causing you to lie back down. The older woman hovered on top of you, mischievously nibbling your bottom lip causing you to whimper.

You couldn’t help but take in the scent of the older woman as you wrapped your arms around her, relishing the warmth of her body.

You knew that this was wrong.

But you definitely weren't regretting this… You somehow wanted more.

Author’s note: Ok I’m having too much fun writing this—

[yanderecookierunkingdom]

Six becomes Five

Prev | Next

Shoutout to average-crk-enjoyer whose tags on part 1 of Six becomes Five itch my brain right

As you struggled there, locked in a what was basically a shoving match with Shadow Milk Cookie, you wondered what was running through his mind. Nothing you could comprehend, you were sure. Even back when he was still a hero, helping those around him, he was spontaneous and wild.

Now, as you struggle against him, you can't but miss that part of him. The part of him that wasn't corrupted, that was kind and loving.

And as you stared at him, you couldn't help but wonder. Pure Vanilla Cookie had his Soul Jam, albeit much weaker. Would your dear friend turn out just like Shadow Milk Cookie?

That brief falter gave your opponent lunge forward and shove you away. You grunted, slamming the end of your scepter into the ground to stop yourself from skidding too far.

"Sparkling Joy Cookie-!"

"Reader Cookie." You snapped at him. "I chose the name Reader Cookie, and you will at the very least call me it, Shadow Milk Cookie!"

"That's not your name!" Shadow Milk Cookie seemed distraught despite his grin. "How are you still under their control?!"

You didn't know whether to feel uncomfortable or annoyed.

You opened your mouth to argue back, when a familiar shot of light magic shot past you and struck Shadow Milk Cookie in the chest, sending him stumbling back. You turned your head, eyes wide to see-

"Pure Vanilla Cookie!" You gasped, magic swirling as you shrunk down. You ran over to him and gently grabbed his shoulder as he abruptly stumbled, and his staff looked at him with worry.

"What are you thinking, are you alright?!" You fussed over him, eyes glancing at his Soul Jam, which was considerably fainter.

"I wasn't going to lose you," Pure Vanila Cookie spoke, his voice faint, far from the normal softness it held.

You gritted your teeth. "I told you to run, Pure Vanilla Cookie! I can handle him-!"

With a gasp, you switched to your giant form once more as shadows lashed out at you and Pure Vanilla Cookie. You cradled him close to your chest, and glared at Shadow Milk Cookie.

However, that glare faltered when you saw the look of pure rage on his face. Gone was his grin, replaced with a menacing scowl.

"Him?.."

Your eyes shoot to his Soul Jam, and notice how fiercely it's glowing. Oh, by the Witches, was Shadow Milk Cookie.. draining Pure Vanilla Cookie's power?!

"HIM?!" Shadow Milk Cookie erupted in pure rage, and you barely hand time to put up a barrier of magic as his shadows lashed out, trying to wrench Pure Vanilla Cookie from your grip.

You didn't think twice. You shrunk down to more manageable size. It's not your normal one, but one where you could still easily hold your dear friend. Then?

You fled.

"You're crazy!" You hissed at Pure Vanilla Cookie as you ran from the Silver Tree, dodging and weaving through any enemies that lashed out. "You're actually crazy! Why did you come back?!"

"I couldn't leave you alone," Pure Vanilla Cooke reiterated, his free hand gently gripping your shoulder. He managed to crack his eyes open to look at you, a small smile on his face. "Not when you had that look on your face, my friend.."

"Look..?" You furrowed your brows, some of your magic shooting away spores.

"That guilty look.." Pure Vanilla Cookie glances down. You stiffen a bit. "That look where you feel terrible for.. not revealing something important."

He closes his eyes, and his body falls limp in your hold. "Pure Va- Pure Vanilla Cookie?!"

You skid to a stop and manage to duck behind a pillar. You press your head against his chest, your breathing slowly growing frantic.

He's still breathing. He's unconscious, but he's breathing.

You exhale shakily and resume running. You were going to beat Shadow Milk Cookie for this..

Unknown to you, the Cookie had a similar plan, but towards the one you ran off with. He saw the look in your eyes when you fussed over him. When you gently held him close.

Shadow Milk Cookie clenched his hands and gritted his teeth.

"This. Isn't. Over."

taglist: @snail-noodle @average-crk-enjoyer @looking4userthatworks @ori-stole-the-cheese-again @sqiddgie @justalittledumb @ax0lotly

Headcanon that the Beasts can draw power from the Ancients' Soul Jams, since they used to belong to them. I will abuse this hehe.

[deadbydangit]

Recently got into Dbd x Reader fics and loving all of the ones you have made so far!

An idea I had is The Unknown attacking the S/O of one of the killers as they are heading to meet up with them (Huntress, Deathslinger, Trickster) and how the Killer would go about saving/protecting S/O from The Unknown.

Thanks for doing what you do!

I believe I can do that. I might switch it up to just their significant other getting attacked. Please enjoy.

Protecting the Reader: Huntress, Deathslinger, Trickster

Huntress

It would take an absolute idiot to hurt Anna.

It would take an absolute moron to hurt someone on a cares about.

She's already lost someone important in her life.

And she couldn't do anything about it.

But now she can.

And she will.

They won't even get a warning.

They hurt you?

Hatchet to the face.

Was it an accident?

Hatchet to the face.

It does not matter.

Anna can get a little too protective at times.

She's always super worried about you.

So much so that it might be hard to make other friends outside of her.

You might need to get her to tone it down a bit.

You just have to understand that she's not willing to lose another important person in her life.

Another thing she'll do is throw herself in the way of harm.

Just so you don't get hurt.

She knows she's tough and can handle it.

Although, she's not invincible and you'll have to remind her of that.

Sometimes, it's minor dumb things.

Like standing in the way of a snowball or something little.

It can be ridiculous at times. Just know it's her way of showing her love.

Deathslinger

Caleb is a little more reasonable.

On one hand, he'll protect you.

On the other hand, he doesn't want you to become too dependent on him.

If you're in danger, he'll come to help you.

But he will stand back and see if you can handle it on your own first.

That's not to say he'll let you get hurt.

He just doesn't want you to become lazy and depend on him too much.

He'll probably teach you how to shoot a gun.

Something he's made especially for you to defend yourself in case of an emergency.

Though it is something smaller and simpler than the Redeemer.

He'll put you through lessons before he lets you even touch it.

You'll have to learn all the parts and how to put it together before your even allowed to shoot anything.

And, being able to defend yourself is good for your confidence.

He couldn't handle a scaredy cat significant other.

If it's something that you can't handle, or you've tried your best and are still In harm's way, you best believe he'll be right there protecting you.

He'll beat the perpetrator to a bloody pulp, and then some.

He'll keep going until you stop him, and you'll have to stop him.

He's trying to make an example out of this person.

"Anyone messes with you, they mess with me."

He's not always the best at showing affection, this is just his way of showing he cares about you.

Trickster

Ji-Woon has more of a hands-off approach.

He's probably going to leave you on your own.

He really isn't much of a fighter aside from throwing knives and swinging a bat around.

If he entered the fray, it would only make things worse.

And it might damage is beautiful face.

He can't have that!

However, he'll leave you with a small supply of knives in case of an emergency.

He isn't the best teacher, and throwing knives can be very difficult.

Instead, he'll show you how to stab people with them just in your hand and all the vital places that would help you defeat your opponent faster and easier.

Now if somebody insults you or is mean to you?

"Bitch, I know you didn't just say what I think you said?"

If you think the person verbally attacking you can talk smack, he can double it.

Easily.

He's amazing at picking out every little flaw that a person has.

And exploiting it.

Drastically.

He's actually trying to make the other person cry.

And he has.

He thrives on that type of stuff.

"Don't worry. As long as I'm around, no one will dare insult you my pretty little s/o."

[ballsandbabes]

Wakatoshi Ushijima x reader: Spikes and Sparks

Authors Note: y/n = your name// not proof read// GIF not mine // Have fun <3

Genre: Enemies to lovers, but but it's more like a mutual disliking

You stood tall among your teammates, your height and presence commanding attention. As the ace of your volleyball team, the Reiji Academy, you were known for your powerful spikes and unwavering confidence. But nothing could have prepared you for facing Shiratorizawa's formidable captain, Ushijima Wakatoshi.

As the largest and most important sports team at your school, your team was asked whether it would be possible to take part in a benefits game. As captain and chairman of all volleyball teams, including the men's, you agreed to this. However, the men's volleyball team was spontaneously unable to take part. Captain Yuji, had become ill. The team didn't want to compete without him.

The school management nevertheless, pushed for a team to take part. So you and the women's team competed. Your ironclad yet loving leadership style was notorious throughout the region. You trained your girls with discipline and toughness. However, when there were problems, you were the first to help. For example with Yulika. You had told her in a stern tone that she finally had to start playing with her head. She had tearfully replied that her boyfriend had broken up. You immediately call out, that training would be finished and decided to go eat ramen with the team.

____ _ _ _

"Ahh I can't believe we're playing against men's teams. All the beautiful men," said Himari. She was an incorrigible man-monster. They all lay at her feet. "We're never allowed to play against men," Sakura chimed in, "Imagine if we wipe out one of the teams."

“We’ll take them all down,” you said stoically. You wanted to show it to the world. You guys didn't train for hours every day, only to be told that women always perform worse than men, in sports. This was a unique opportunity to show everyone... to show them, that your team was better. That you were better.

"The Shiratorizawa should play too," said Youlika, "they have this really badass captain…" Himari tuned in, "Yes, he's supposed to be over five feet tall." It went back and forth like that the whole time. It was enough for you. “Quiet, unnecessary chatting and giggling won’t bring us a win,” you said sharply.

From the moment you stepped onto the court, tension crackled between you and Ushijima, knowing he was the best captian amongst the male teams. Beating him would be your triumph.

His stoic demeanor and blunt remarks rubbed you the wrong way, and your spirited retorts only seemed to amuse him. "You're playing well. But we're playing better," Wakatoshi said neutrally in your direction as he left the field. What a lot for this idiot….just because he was a good athlete and also happened to be a man, he thought he was better. Disgusting. You had nothing but contempt for people who looked down on you. "Hey, y/n…it's not worth it," Himari said, noticing how angry you were. “Good luck for the next game,” Wakatoshi said before heading into the locker room. Matches against his team became personal battles, each spike and block a challenge issued and met.

The tournament had exactly three games left, hope you had beaten all your opponents so far. It was really weird, since the first game you couldn't get this Wakatoshi Usijima out of your head. The form, the polished talent and the cool passion for the game.

____ _ _ _

Off the court, your paths crossed more often than you'd like—training camps, meetings, and even the occasional shared gym. For the tournament, all teams were also allowed to use the hall's great luxury gym. You spent almost every evening there. The gym echoed with the sound of rubber soles squeaking against polished floors and volleyballs slamming into hardwood. You wiped sweat from your brow, casting a sideways glance at the tall figure on the opposite side of the net.

Ushijima Wakatoshi. Stoic. Disciplined. Annoyingly perfect.

You didn’t dislike him because he was good—he was excellent, a top-tier ace. You disliked him because he treated you like a training partner, not a rival. Like someone to help him improve, not someone who could beat him. "Your footwork was slow on the last approach," he said flatly, tossing a ball your way. “You won’t be effective if you don’t adjust.”

You caught the ball with a glare. “I didn’t ask for your feedback, Ushijima”

“It was an observation,” he replied, returning to his position without a trace of emotion. This was your shared hell: the elite gym, where all the remaining teams trained. You had to tolerate each other. Barely. The next hour passed in a blur of drills, weights, and silent tension. You couldn’t deny the way he pushed you—every hit he blocked, you tried harder. Every time he scored, you swore you’d get him back.

Finally, Ushijima called for a break. You slumped against the wall, breathing hard. Ushijima sat beside you—closer than expected. "You’re strong," he said without looking at you. "You challenge me."

You turned to him, surprised. “That sounded dangerously close to a compliment.”

"It was one," he said, still not smiling, but his voice softened. “I think I prefer training with you.”

You blinked. For a second, all the frustration, the petty remarks, the competitive fire between you—it melted into something else. Mutual respect. Maybe even… something warmer. You bumped your shoulder lightly against his. “Next time, try saying that before insulting my footwork.”

He paused. “Noted.” The silence between you now felt different. Not heavy with rivalry, but full of something electric. Something new.

____ _ _ _

Despite the rivalry, there was an undeniable pull between you two. His quiet strength intrigued you, while your vivacious energy began to chip away at his reserved exterior. You were stubborn, full of emotions, a complete hothead, it was hard for you to stay calm. You were a good player, very strategic and at the back of the field. Ushijima had already observed that you were more responsible for building the game, a true captain. That fact, fascinated him.

“Eyyy Ushijima, why are you thinking so much again,” complained Tendō. "Have you ever seen someone play like that… so creatively?" Wakatoshi asked. The two of them decided to go out for something to eat. The ramen shop buzzed with the warm clatter of bowls and chopsticks. Ushijima sat beside Tendō, the quiet weight of his presence noticeable even in the crowd. He rarely went out to eat like this, but Tendō had insisted—something about “social calories” being just as important as protein.

Ushijima was halfway through his miso ramen when the door chimed.

"Well, well," Tendō muttered, nudging him. “Guess who just walked in?” The Karasuno Team, with Daichi Sawamura leading the pack, followed by a few second-years and the ever-calm Kiyoko Shimizu. And you—tall, striking, a true volleyball prodigy—laughing as you walked in beside them. The others wanted to celebrate that you and your team had made it to the finals.

Ushijima’s chopsticks paused in mid-air. His gaze tracked you automatically. Tendō smirked. “You look like you just saw a really strong block.” Ushijima didn’t respond, but his eyes didn’t leave you. You glanced around the room—and noticed him. Your expression faltered for a moment. Then you decided to smile. That slow, teasing smile that made his pulse tick just a little faster.

You whispered something to Kiyoko before heading over to their table. Daichi noticed Ushijima too. His eyes narrowed slightly, subtly stepping between you and the Shiratorizawa pair.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you said lightly. “Small world.”

Ushijima nodded. “I come for the food. Tendō insisted.”

“Always blame me,” Tendō chimed in with a grin. “Hi, by the way. You’re looking sharp—must be the Finals glow-up.” Daichi watched the exchange, arms crossed. “You two training together again?”

“Yes,” Ushijima answered plainly. “She’s a strong player. I value the training sessions.”

But the way he looked at you—how his eyes lingered a moment too long on your face, the barely perceptible warmth behind the cool exterior—it made Daichi’s jaw tighten. Kiyoko glanced from him to you, then to Ushijima, her brow lifting just slightly. Sawamura leaned in, murmuring under his breath to Kiyoko as you laughed at something Tendō said. “…He’s not looking at her like she’s just a rival.” Kiyoko gave a tiny nod. “No. He’s not. Because she isnt."

And everyone seems to have this insight. Except both of you.

____ _ _ _ Finals

The gym was alive with the roar of the crowd. The finals of the charity tournament had drawn more attention than anyone expected, and the reason was obvious. You and Ushijima Wakatoshi stood on opposite sides of the net—captains, aces, rivals, and the worst-kept secret in the building.

"You're going to lose, Wakatoshi," you called across the court, twirling the ball before your serve,"Better get used to the view from second place." His eyes met yours, unwavering,"If I lose, it won't be because of you. But… you look focused. I like that."

Your serve wobbled just slightly. From the sidelines, Tendō and your teammates exchanged knowing looks. Kiyoko leaned over to Daichi. “Do you think they’ll ever realize?”

“No,” Daichi muttered. “They’ll probably get married before they notice.”

The match was brutal. Powerful spikes. Lightning-fast digs. The score climbed evenly, neck and neck, neither team giving an inch. Your team was loyally behind you. always. That's why every single player gave their best. The girls knew how important this victory was to you. You dove for a ball, landed hard, and immediately felt a strong arm help you up.

Ushijima. "You should be more careful," he said lowly, hand lingering a second too long. "If you get hurt, I won’t get to beat you at full strength."

You scoffed, heart thumping. “If I did get hurt, it’d only be from carrying this whole game.”

The rally started again. The tension between you was no longer just competitive—it simmered with something electric. Every glance was a dare, every touch a spark. The final point was chaos. A perfect set, a block, a save, a spike—until the ball landed squarely on the line. Both sides exploded into celebration—only to freeze as the ref blew the whistle.

“Tie,” he announced. “Game ends 25–25. A draw.” You blinked. Across the net, Ushijima tilted his head, stepping forward as the gym fell into a buzzing mix of cheers and laughter.

“Looks like we’re equals,” you said breathlessly. He studied you for a long moment. “No. You’re better than I expected.” You raised an eyebrow. “Is that your version of flirting?”

“What?” he asked without missing a beat. He had meant it exactly what he had said…a compliment.

Your cheeks heated, and behind you, your team let out a chorus of groans and knowing laughter. Tendō shouted from the other side, “God you are so awful!”

When Ushijima offered his hand and you took it, something had definitely changed. You hadn't beaten the Shiratorizawa, but you were now equal. Equally good. No matter whether man or woman. Both of you went to celebrate with your own team.

The gym had mostly cleared out. The buzz from the tied final still echoed in the air, but now it was just lingering teammates, janitors sweeping up stray tape, and two very stubborn volleyball captains standing in silence near the benches. You sat with your elbows on your knees, trying to calm the way your heart wouldn’t stop pounding. From the game. From him. From what almost happened.

Ushijima stood a few feet away, clutching a bundle of white and purple fabric in his hands—his jersey. His brows were furrowed like he was thinking through the most difficult game plan of his life.

You looked up when he finally moved, his footsteps slow but certain.

“I want you to have this,” he said simply, holding out the jersey to you. You blinked. “Your—jersey?”

“It’s a custom,” he said. “When someone matters.”

You looked at the fabric in your hands, fingers curling around the number 1. It was warm, still holding his body heat. You swallowed hard. “Ushijima…” you began, but he shook his head.

“Wakatoshi,” he corrected gently. “You can call me that.” You met his eyes, searching. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I was told this isnt only rivalry....and I think this person was right,” he said, voice low and sure. “I train with you. I fight you. I respect you. But I also… want you.”

Your breath caught. He what???

He stepped closer. “I don’t just think of you as a player. I think of you as someone I want in my life. Off the court. I like how you motivate me, make me better…How I want to talk to you.”

You opened your mouth—then shut it again. Your chest felt tight in the best way,“You’re really bad at flirting, Wakatoshi.”

“I know,” he said, not missing a beat. “But I’m trying...for you.”

That made you laugh—soft and surprised. “You’re lucky I like you anyway.”

You didn’t wait for his reply. You stood on your toes and kissed him—slow, certain, like the match you both refused to lose. His hands found your waist, grounding you, and his lips pressed back into yours with all the focus he usually gave to a spike. As if this moment mattered more than any final ever could. When you finally pulled back, slightly breathless, he looked down at you like you were the sun after a storm.

“I still want a rematch,” you murmured. He nodded. “Next time, I’ll win. But I’ll still wanted to give you my jersey.”

Actually he didn't have to do that anymore, just now…with you in his arm…he had already won.

[guizika]

The Winchesters' savior

Dean Winchester x Male! Reader

Cw- Male! Reader, fight, mentions of death, mentions of killing, use of a knife, swearing, Fluff. Maybe it’s a bit ooc.

Synopsis- The Winchesters are always the ones who save, however, in a situation it seems that things changed and they needed to be saved.

Word count- 841

It was supposed to be just another normal hunt in Texas, just a monster and nothing more. The more they investigated, the stranger the case became, but they didn't give up. However, during a search in an abandoned place far from town, a group of demons surrounded them. Sam and Dean were ambushed and tied up in a room.

A few hours passed and they were still there, the demons trying to interrogate them to see if they could get any information. "I'm not going to tell you anything, little bitch." Dean said with a tone of irony, making the being who was interrogating him snort with anger.

However, soon some noises were heard and then some demons were sent to check. "Dear Dean, I think you misunderstand the circumstances..." The tone of debauchery was noticeable in the dark being's voice.

However, before he can continue, a loud noise makes him turn around and then, before he realizes it, something heavy is thrown at him. Sam and Dean look at the door, which has been kicked in, and then there you are, saving them as if you were a knight in shining armor.

"I am here now!" An arrogant smile is on your face, and in your hand is the demon-killing knife (you've hidden it to use on a hunt, but Dean doesn't need to know that part). The demon lets out an angry noise and comes at you, pulling out a knife that was on his belt.

However, you soon get into a grapple as you try to stab each other. In the background, you can hear Dean encouraging you and shouting some insults at your opponent, while Sam remains silent because he has a gag in his mouth.

Soon, however, your knife and the demon's are thrown away as you continue to fight. As luck would have it, the knife falls on Sam's side and he waits for the right moment to kick it to you. Soon, the ideal moment appears, you land a punch on the evil being's jaw and then he staggers backwards. When the younger Winchester notices he quickly kicks the knife towards you, you notice and grab the knife. Quickly, you kill your opponent and then a sigh of relief escapes your lips as you stash the knife in your belt.

"Finally, I thought he was going to beat you." Dean says with a provocative smile, making Sam roll his eyes. "Right, without me you'd be screwed." Quickly, you untie the younger Winchester and then the older one.

"Shut up Dean, stop teasing." Sam says as he pats you gently on the shoulder, then stretches. "Anyway, we still have a lot of demons to kill out there." The shorter Winchester says as he snaps his fingers and looks at the door, but he soon turns to you when he hears an amused snort.

"I've already killed them." You say as you look at the two brothers with your arms crossed, an arrogant smile on your face as you put your hands in your pockets. "I'll wait for you in the car." Then you get out and leave them there,

-

"So you mean you found us because Dean sent you a selfie and there was a local burger joint in the background? Wow, I can't believe it!" Sam says laughing, patting you gently on the shoulder as he eats a hamburger rather enthusiastically.

"Shut it, Sammy." Dean's cheeks flush and he stuffs his mouth full of potato to cover it up, making you and the younger Winchester laugh. You take a sip of your drink while enjoying their company.

Soon, Sam stops laughing and looks at you, curiosity present in his gaze. "Hey, weren't you already on a hunt? How did you finish so quickly?" A soft laugh comes out of you and then you lean back in your chair, looking at the table. "I was, but I ended up finishing faster because I got help."

Your sentence seems to arouse Dean's curiosity, who takes a rather small bite out of his burger. "Well, it was a nest of vampires and a friend of mine showed up to help, maybe one day you'll meet him."

Soon, the older Winchester raised an eyebrow, wanting to know more, quickly swallowing the food in his mouth. "What's his name? How old is he? Is he better looking than me?" A sigh leaves your lips, knowing it's going to be a long conversation.

-

Now everyone is in the car, Dean and you in the front seat and Sam in the back seat, leaning back and getting into a relaxed position. "You know what we learned today? That even Dean Winchester needs saving sometimes." A muffled laugh comes out of Sam and Dean looks at you out of the corner of his eye, raising an eyebrow.

"We also learned that Dean is very good at interrogations!" Sam says as he starts laughing, making you giggle. Your laughter seems to infect Dean, who laughs softly.

Maybe being a hunter isn't so bad after all...

Please don't translate or copy my work and don't repost on other social networks, if there are any grammatical errors I ask you to excuse me!

[i-heart-hxh]

I love you meta posts! I've been curious to here other peoples opinions on whether or not Killua every truly believed that Kite was alive. Part of me believes he just went along with Gon not wanting to admit it to himself.

Thank you so much, and this is a great topic to dig into!

To truly understand the answer, we need to back up a bit.

When Pitou appears in front of Gon, Killua, and Kite, Killua knocks Gon out and flees at Kite's urging, as well as out of his own terror. However, almost as soon as Killua flees, he realizes they screwed up by coming along with Kite to NGL in spite of the warnings they received:

After he flees, Killua encounters Knov and Morel (along with Netero), fellow Hunters who he can tell are very strong. He's mocked and insulted for his decision to flee and told he's a failure.

Killua is aware of his own tendency to flee when faced with an opponent beyond his ability to handle. He isn't aware of the needle at this point, however, so he likely interprets this tendency as simply his own personal failing--something that makes him unworthy of someone like Gon, who pushes onward no matter what obstacles are in his path.

He must have been worried about what Gon would say when he woke up--after all, Kite is Gon's mentor and someone who means a lot to Gon. Killua was beating himself up for what happened, both their decision to go along with Kite and his decision on both of their behalf to flee. I believe Killua thought Kite was dead at that point. It's a reasonable expectation because he saw Kite lose his arm, and he was overpowered by the sense of how strong Pitou was.

And then Gon wakes up, and rather than criticizing or being upset with Killua, he thanks Killua for making the decision to flee and expresses this very naive but overpowering optimism that "Kite is alive!" and they just have to go back and save him.

Killua is not naive like Gon is. He's someone who strategizes based off the reality of a situation rather than hope and belief that things will work out, and it makes him someone who flees when he feels he can't win (in his view, of course the needle is a big part of this). He doesn't see himself as able to become someone like Gon, who can force reality to his own will even when the odds seem insurmountable.

But here, he lets himself believe in Gon's words in spite of everything. Because he wants to believe that Gon is right. Because he wants to believe he's not the person he was beating himself up for being and that there is hope in the situation after all. That his decision wasn't wrong. That Gon can save him again and continue to lead him into the light, rather than the darkness he grew up in and knows he still harbors within himself.

He buys into Gon's perspective also because he can't stand looking into Gon's hopeful face and telling Gon what he strongly suspects: That Kite is dead, that there's no hope. Gon wouldn't accept that, Gon might reject Killua if he says that, and Killua doesn't want to dim Gon's light.

Killua was never allowed to be a kid--he grew up training, killing, working. It was only with Gon he was finally able to act his own age, play, be a normal kid like he wanted to.

And here, he lets himself be a little naive and accept Gon's perspective, let himself have faith in the world and the boy he loves.

So, ultimately I think his cynicism and realism collapses in the face of Gon's "light," but I think Killua has moments throughout the arc where doubt starts creeping in in spite of that. He pushes it down because of all the above reasons. By the point his view of the situation reaches a breaking point, it's like Gon is a boulder rolling down a hill and gaining speed, and Killua isn't able to stop him until it's very nearly too late.

[a-wonderful-danganronpa]

♟️ DESIGN: Masato Noboru, face concept 1

[NO SPOILERS]

"Hah! So you've dined on human being before! A true dish of homo sapiens, you say! Splendid! I am reminded of my time spent in the frozen arctic with little but mice-torn rations to eat...and a single bishop, carved from jade. Hah, you must let me tell you over dinner..."

boys boys boys! it's raining men hallelujah! and here today i have Masato Noboru (登 優人), the Monastery's current Chess Wonder!

like most of our shinetowners, Masato might be considered "wealthy." but unlike Veritas (who's self-made) or Yaeko (a Togami) or Wisteria (creepy old money), however, he married into it.

the story: Masato was an escort who often took payment in unusual goods and services and discovered he was skilled at chess when a client taught him the game in return for a lovely night or two. that client, not long after, became Masato's partner. they traveled the world quite extensively searching for opponents to whom Masato could give a logical beat-down. pow pow checkmate. 👊♟️

it's to this life Masato owes his adventurous go-getter spirit. he's quite jolly and affable, unlike the typical image of that stoic monochrome strategist. (you can see it in his smile, can't you?) definitely a dude prone to long-winded, nested stories that go nowhere, too. try to pull apart his nested narratives and you'll get nowhere. ah, the wistfulness of this guy!

though one of the more "senior" folks in the Monastery's new set of Wonders, he's still not much more than twenty years of age, and yet...has an air of joyous old-man nostalgia about him? maybe because his partner died right before Masato arrived at the Monastery. hard not to indulge in memory when the love of your life is gone, even if no one can tell whether or not Masato is happy about this fact.

(by the way, does anyone know if Masato's partner was a guy or a lady...?)

♟️♟️♟️♟️♟️♟️♟️♟️

[runabout-river]

Thoughts on JJK chapter 251 (spoilers)

As I thought, Yuta's slash didn't do that much damage but it's still enough that Sukuna has to actively heal himself and we also find out that Sukuna's assumption from before the time skip was true: the good guys do have the last finger and that's most likely because of Gojo.

I wonder how Yuta managed to copy his CT though because he needs to ingest part of the person and it doesn't look like he was the one ingesting Sukuna's last finger. Maybe Yuji did and Yuta ate part of him? Maybe Sukuna is also wrong and the last finger was never eaten at all.

Yuji and Sukuna have an awesome brawl right in front of us and I'm living for it especially with how menacing Sukuna looks here and how Yuji spat in his face.

Yuji pumps himself up by thinking about his last chance to save Megumi while Sukuna thinks about how his control of his body is slipping and how his CE output is weakening. It looks good for Yuji's team because Sukuna is taking a beating instead of turning the tables on them.

Sukuna decides on tanking the Jacob's Ladder and cutting his three opponents up but they had already planned for that so:

Yuta rips Bellymouth's tongue out, Rika is holding two of Sukuna's arms, Yuji is holding one arm, Sukuna attacks Yuta but his slashes are too weak to stop him so Sukuna's mouth gets slashed, his face explodes because Yuji's blood and one arm gets cut off.

They really trained for this event with all their might.

We go into a flashback about Yuki's notes and how souls work. Basically, they'll never become one even if they can get mixed up a little. Choso says sth interesting here: the soul of the person he inhabits is completely gone, Yuki's notes say that that soul has sunken into extreme depths

This means that the soul was either ejected from the body by the cursed object, or its sunken so deep that it can't be pulled out again because otherwise Yuki would've talked about the moral dilemma that every incarnated sorcerer + plus Choso would face about giving back their stolen bodies

If I remember correctly, Mahito wasn't able to combine two souls either because they rejected each other. In Megumi's case however we know that Sukuna and Megumi's souls are separate so their plan should work...

😢

Sukuna's plan to completely subjugate Megumi was stronger than this part of Yuji's plan to simply shake him awake. But I'm sure that they also planned for this outcome because:

Yuji knows the feeling of despair that Sukuna will put you under. He and Gojo also knew what Tsumiki meant to Megumi and they definitely found out that she was killed by Sukuna. Yuji would've feared this outcome and prepared himself accordingly. Now he has to be the one to save not only Megumi's body but also his soul.

To get to this level of despair, Megumi went through:

Shock of Tsumiki's possession

The Bath in cursed energy

The killing of Tsumiki

Sukuna eating 4 additional fingers + his old head

Megumi suffering through 1700 years of information through UV inflicted on him by his teacher (I counted)

Killing Gojo

This boy really had enough but Yuji once stood in the exact same place. He got up again and so will Megumi.

However weak, Sukuna uses his World Ending Slash on Yuji, Yuta and Rika. Megumi might or might not have managed to take his body back at this point if he had had the will to do it.

Yuta's arm is definitely cut but his torso looks a bit better. At least it's still drawn in one line. Yuji looks better off overall but unlike Yuta he actually has a bit of an immunity to Sukuna's CE.

Yuta's DE breaks and this might be the point for him where he taps out but no fear, Maki is here

Sukuna smiles at her because he most likely wanted to fight her properly and we have a break next week

What now, some more thoughts:

Like I said, the fight for Megumi goes on if he wants to or not, Yuji is here to save him

We now have a concrete point on where his story went down to: it's not the crazy or evil path but the crushed path

The other paths might still come though

As I've pointed out a hundred times, Tsumiki's soul is here! She already made contact with Megumi before the Yorozu reveal! She only has to find a way to communicate with her brother

Mai's soul too could come to help him. Her soul is in Maki's Split Soul Katana. Every time she cuts Sukuna with it, Mai could try to talk with Megumi just like Yuji does with his fists.

When Sukuna's CE is finally on normal sorcerer levels, Nobara might make her grand return with Resonance and show Megumi that at least one dead friend came back to him

Phew, this was an emotional chapter.

[aishangotome]

Onio Ryo: Chapter 13

Chapter 12

♡———♡

The moment the butterfly's hand touched Yumeka's shoulder—the life force that had been lit within her vanished.

Ryo: Yumeka!

He lifted her fallen body and put his ear to her chest. Her heart was beating. She was also breathing.

However, even when he called her name or gently tapped her cheek, there was no sign of Yumeka waking up.

Ryo: What did you do?

Butterfly: When I tried to extract Iro's soul, this human just barged in! I don't know anything!

Ryo: Extract... a soul?

Gashadokuro: Ryo-san!

At that moment, Gashadokuro appeared, making loud footsteps and waving his arms.

Gashadokuro: The Master said to bring Yumeka-san to his room immediately! Hurry!

Ryo nodded and immediately carried Yumeka, running off with Gasha.

-

Gashadokuro: Hah... hah. Yumeka-san, what happened to her!?

Gashadokuro: I can't feel any life force at all, and at this rate...

Running alongside Ryo, Gashadokuro looked at Yumeka with concern.

Ryo: Apparently, her soul was extracted and sent flying.

Gashadokuro: Eh, where!?

Ryo: ............

Ryo didn't answer, his face a picture of bitterness.

-

Yumeka: Eh, eeeeeeh!?

My scream echoed through the unfamiliar hut. Before I knew it, I was on Oni-form Ryo's lap.

(Where am I!? No, more importantly,)

Yumeka: It's Ryo, right?

???: ...............

It seemed they were in the middle of a meal, as drinks and food were scattered around the area.

Besides Ryo, I could see three other Youma with horns.

???: Is it a ghost, perhaps?

???: Who knows? I smell a Youma too.

He brought his face closer to me, sitting on Ryo's lap. Then he sniffed, his nose twitching.

Yumeka: Um, excuse me...

It's Ryo, but it's not Ryo.

He tilted his head, seeing my fear that something was wrong.

Akura-ou: I am Akura-ou. Where did you fly in from?

Yumeka: That name...

Yumeka: Ryo, what kind of Oni are you?

Ryo: ..........

Ryo: Akura-ou.

Yumeka: ! No way.

As I raised my voice and sat up, I noticed for the first time that I was slightly transparent.

Yumeka: Eh, eh?

I waved my hand in front of my face, but I could see the scenery beyond it.

Saburo: Akura-ou-sama, shall this Saburo chase it out?

Seeing me on Akura-ou's lap, a Youma with three small horns bristled and approached.

Saburo: How long do you intend to sit on Akura-ou-sama's lap, in a ghost's form?

He raised his sharp claws.

Yumeka: ....!

I flinched, thinking I was about to be scratched, but the claws passed right through me.

Saburo: Don't just watch, help me. Elder brother Taro, elder brother Jiro.

Jiro: Don't rush, Saburo. The opponent is a ghost, you know?

Taro: Really, what are you doing?

Jiro, with two horns, laughed, and the Oni with one horn sighed in exasperation.

(Did I really become a ghost...!? )

The events in Mugenro swirled through my mind. Ryo's last call echoed, but...

Without time for sentimentality, I noticed another terrifying change in myself.

Yumeka: Hih...

My fingertips were not only transparent but melting into the air, disappearing.

Yumeka: N-no way.

The sensation of my own outline and identity becoming vague—what would happen if I disappeared completely?

(To die...!? If that happens... I...)

(I won't be able to see Ryo anymore--)

Akura-ou: ..........

Akura-ou: Look at me.

(……Eh?)

As my forehead was held and I turned my face, filled with despair, Akura-ou's face approached, leaning over me...

He blew breath into my mouth, whoosh.

Yumeka: Mmn!?

I hurriedly covered my mouth, and Akura-ou narrowed his eyes as he saw me tumble off his lap.

Akura-ou: I'm glad to see you're energetic.

(Energetic... wait, what?)

The hand I held up had regained its solid form.

Saburo: Akura-ou-sama, why did you breathe life into such a ghost?

Akura-ou: .........

Taro: Saburo. Akura-ou-sama has his reasons.

Jiro: Right, right. It's fine that a ghost was mixed in. We're in the middle of a meal.

Jiro: Hurry and bring more alcohol.

Saburo: Yes, sir.

The Youma called Saburo stood up slowly. At the same time, I also stood up...

Saburo: Ah, she's escaping!

Yumeka: Haah, haah...

I ran out of the hut, looking around breathlessly.

(This isn't Mugenro...)

(But I don't know any place like this in reality either.)

I ran further into the forest, wandering.

Beyond the forest, I could see fields and farms. All the buildings within sight were simple thatched huts.

And all the people, without exception, were wearing shabby clothes.

(Where... am I?)

Standing blankly at the edge of the forest, someone noticed me and screamed.

Villager: Ahh, a Youma from Akura-ou's forest!

They then ran away as fast as they could.

(I'm a Youma... no, I've become a ghost.)

I continued to wander around, but as the sky began to darken, I squatted down on the spot.

When I looked up at the sky, the moon was the same as always. That alone brought me a slight sense of relief.

(...I want to go back...)

(Why did this happen?)

Without any clues, I returned to the hut I had run out of, as if guided.

Immediately, a burnt smell hit my nose.

(That's strange. I... can smell even though I'm a ghost.)

There was a kitchen-like area near the entrance, and Saburo was cooking there.

However, he seemed to have burnt the fish.

Saburo: Ugh, the elder brothers are going to be mad at me again!

Yumeka: Um—shall I help you?

As I spontaneously called out, Saburo, having forgotten the previous exchange, showed a good-natured smile.

Saburo: Really!? You, a ghost?

I nodded and took a charred pot-like thing off the stove, rescuing the intact stew.

Ingredients and seasonings lined the kitchen. It seemed manageable.

Saburo: Unlike the villagers, we eat well. We have rice, and we're particular about our sake snacks.

Saburo, puffing out his chest proudly, peered into my face.

Saburo: Ghost, what's your name?

Yumeka: Um, Yumeka.

Saburo: I see, Yumeka. Thanks!

Relaxing around the friendly Saburo, I ended up making sake snacks with him.

(This place... might be ancient Japan.)

As I tentatively cooked various dishes, that feeling gradually grew stronger.

(I can't believe it... did I become a ghost and travel through time?)

While thinking, I kept moving my hands, and after a while, Jiro appeared with a sake bottle.

Jiro: Hey Saburo, cook this meat too... what are you having a ghost do?

Saburo: Help me out, elder brother Jiro!

Saburo said as he carried the finished dishes...

Akura-ou: .........

(Ah...)

I realized that Akura-ou had been watching me the whole time.

(I don't belong here... except in this hut.)

Knowing that much, I gripped the spatula tightly.

Yumeka: I... I saw you have rice, so I'd like to cook. Do you have any requests!?

Akura-ou: Requests?

Akura-ou, who had been staring at me, seemed a little surprised, but eventually replied with a small sigh.

Akura-ou: ...Onigiri would be good.

Yumeka: With pleasure!

Akura-ou: Huh... what's with that reply?

After saying only that, Akura-ou turned and left the hut.

Yumeka: Ah! Please wait a moment.

Saburo: Hey, wait!

I chased after his back, still holding the spatula.

Akura-ou: ...What is it?

Yumeka: Excuse me, but... could you let me stay here for a while?

I have nowhere else to go, and the clues to get back must be here.

Yumeka: Please!

Akura-ou, to my bowing head, said calmly.

Akura-ou: Do as you like. It seems you're useful.

Yumeka: Ah... thank you very much!

I breathed a sigh of relief and raised my head, just as the clouds parted and the area became a little brighter.

(---!)

Near Akura-ou, illuminated by the moonlight, was a skeleton lying on the ground.

Akura-ou: ............

After following my gaze, Akura-ou quietly announced.

Akura-ou: That's what happens to humans who enter our territory without permission.

The words Ryo spoke about his past flashed through my mind, along with fear.

Ryo: I don't think they're eating people.

Ryo: But... I killed a lot of people in my past life, and I did most of the bad things you can imagine.

Yumeka: ...Why did you kill them?

Noticing my trembling voice, Akura-ou gave a mocking smile.

Akura-ou: I told you, didn't I? They said it was Oni extermination and came at us.

Akura-ou: If they swarm, we shake them off. That goes for humans and insects alike.

Akura-ou said such things with Ryo's face and voice.

Yumeka: That's... --

Just as I muttered, the forest rustled.

When I looked with Akura-ou, I saw the approaching light of torches.

Akura-ou: Speak of the devil.

Yumeka: Eh...

Soon, we heard human voices like war cries, and Taro and the others came out of the hut.

Taro: Again?

Jiro: We don't have much treasure here, but we do have food.

Akura-ou: They never learn.

Leaving only a smile, Akura-ou headed towards the voices.

Yumeka: Wait...

I wanted to follow, but my legs wouldn't move.

Eventually, Akura-ou and the others disappeared into the forest—

And returned a few hours later, having slaughtered all the bandits.

Saburo: Now, let's eat!

Yumeka: .................

I finished preparing the meal that had been interrupted, watching them from a distance.

They had started drinking sake, still cheerfully stained with blood, despite having wiped it off.

(Akura-ou drinks alcohol—he's completely different from Ryo.)

I hugged my knees, remembering Ryo, a teetotaler, drinking his cola with relish.

(Are Akura-ou and Saburo enemies of humans?)

I couldn't forget the human corpses lying outside.

(They might have had families and loved ones. That's terrible.)

—But then, are what Akura-ou and the others doing "evil"?

(It was... the humans who attacked first.)

(Oh, what should I do... I'm getting confused.)

As I sat hugging my head in the corner—that's when it happened.

Akura-ou: Hey... you.

(...Eh?)

When I looked up, Akura-ou beckoned me with his finger.

Akura-ou: Come here.

I was beckoned with a finger, but still confused, I couldn't move right away.

Akura-ou: ............

After waiting a few seconds, Akura-ou stood up.

Yumeka: Ah...

I instinctively cowered as he approached.

Akura-ou: Don't move.

I was told this, and my arm was grabbed tightly...

And then again, whoosh, breath was blown into me, as if inflating a deflated balloon.

Yumeka: ...----!

The moment I felt a warmth spread through my chest, Akura-ou released my arm and let me go.

Akura-ou: If I don't breathe life into you like this, you, as a ghost, will disappear.

Akura-ou: ...I'd be in trouble if a skilled cook disappeared.

He raised the corner of his mouth mischievously, took a sake bottle, and left the hut again, quite casually.

Saburo: Are you alright? You didn't disappear thanks to Akura-ou-sama.

Saburo called out to me with a smile, and I clenched my hands, which were now holding their form again, and coughed out his name.

Yumeka: ...—Akura-ou.

That wasn't Ryo. It was the Oni leader—Akura-ou.

But only the sweetness of the breath I felt was, somehow, similar.

.

.

.

.

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Chapter 14

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[murfpersonalblog]

Lestat in Ep5: Louis as a Believable Victim

Although I responded to comments in the post I made last night when the trailer dropped, IRL got in the way, so I had to wait to talk at greater length about this WILD shot of a bloody Lestat, presumably during the Ep5 fight, which we also see in the trailer.

The Injuries

I wasn't the only one who saw Lestat's bloody face in the trailer and was like Ok, we're off to the races now! Cuz this implies SEVERAL things, some I'm more interested than others:

Lestat being bloody in and of itself doesn't surprise me--as seen in the film, even Claudia cut Les hard enough to made him bleed (more on that below). And we know there were MULTIPLE times Loustat physically fought, where Lestat (deservedly, he admitted) caught Louis' hands. However, I'm most curious about how long it took Les to HEAL.

AMC frustratingly does not follow a lot of the diehard Rules(TM) of AR's vampire universe (daywalking, being awake b4 sunset, smoking/drinking/eating/etc, Louis having the Fire Gift, etc).

How impervious they are to physical injury is another large point of contention, particularly when it comes to Ep5 & Ep6, when we see the full extent of Louis' injuries at Lestat's hands; and then see Louis get his payback after the hate-sex.

Especially cuz in the books/film, these kinds of open wounds/bruises shouldn't actually be a thing! Vamp skin/flesh is VERY tough & resilient--we know as early as TVL & QotD that old/strong vamps are darn near hard as stone, though ofc it's not until PLatRoA that we learn WHY (cuz of the Luracastria in their/Amel's blood). It's quite the feat to hurt them; hence why AR vamps often bite/cut their own flesh to help their mortal lovers drink their blood, as human teeth/nails can't pierce it. And any wounds they DO get heal very rapidly.

At the end of Ep5 Lestat floats down into the courtyard with a perfectly clean face. (Although his mouth was all bloody in the sky from having bitten Louis.)

But in their bedroom (BEFORE Lestat dragged them into the courtyard) Lestat's forehead and nose/mouth are bloody.

Until shown otherwise, I'm most willing to assume that Lestat was bloodied up, then his wounds rapidly healed & the blood evaporated, a la the film. What took Lestat mere minutes to recover from took Louis MONTHS on end. Cuz this was 1930/31, at the very peak of Louis' depression when he wasn't taking care of himself AT ALL. When Louis doesn't eat he is physically WEAK. But in his righteous indignation over Lestat choke-slamming Claudia, Lou's Papa Bear instincts/adrenaline allowed him to STAND UP & fight Les off of her.

There are MANY IRL cases where smaller/weaker people have been able to beat the crap out of much bigger/stronger opps--particularly if the opp isn't expecting it, or underestimates how serious/motivated their victim is (*cough* Ike vs Tina *cough*).

And ESPECIALLY if said opponent's deliberately HOLDING BACK and LETTING themselves get beat up. As we KNOW Lestat did!

This is the very heart of Loustat's power imbalance. No matter how strong Louis is/gets, Lestat is still stronger, & more experienced. Just cuz Lou managed to smack some sense into Les, doesn't mean Les was EVER in any real danger from Louis (esp. since AMC!Lou never even set Les on fire 😔). AMC's been demonstrating over & over how the game was rigged from the start. Lestat, the "finest ACTOR to ever walk our stage," OFTEN played with his food and PRETENDED to to be weaker, stupider, or more vulnerable than he REALLY was, Monsieur "Did I Not Tell You I Was Bad At Cards?" de Lioncourt. In Ep6, Lestat WANTED Louis to get mad at him, and did NOTHING to defend himself when Louis went FERAL on him.

I think Lestat was all bloodied up when they got back to NOLA cuz this was 1937. It's 6 years after Ep5, after Louis went through physical therapy so he could see & walk again--finally strong again--enough to swim the entire Mississippi River. That's what Lestat wanted most of all for Louis: healthiness & STRENGTH.

If letting Louis vent & feel empowered by beating him up would get Louis to crawl out of his passivity, Les would do ANYTHING for Louis--including playing along (a la the house rules w/ Claudia).

So like I said, until we're told otherwise, I hesitate to give Les a pass, cuz the show's literally been weaving a narrative that presents Lestat as the oppressor and Louis & Claudia as the oppressed. Oh, Les' pretty face got bloody? GOOD! Serves the narcissist right; it'll build character! 🤣

Traumatized Victims: Believable =/= Reliable

The other side of the argument, pointing out the contradictions between Ep5 & the trailer, inevitably goes back to the dreaded question of Louis' reliability as a narrator & believability as a victim.

Louis' 2022 recollections are FLAWED, not LIES (a la the petty AF skulldragging he did in 1973).

IMO, Louis' sincerity in seeking the TRUTH is what makes him 100% believable, even though he's OBVIOUSLY not 100% reliable. His memories are compromised, yes, but I DO NOT believe he is deliberately lying to Daniel in 2022. And it's already been established that book!Lestat VERIFIED that even when book!Lou contradicted himself, got details wrong, etc, his overall tale still captured the atmosphere of everything that went down, even at his utmost pettiest.

The ONLY outright "lie" Dubai!Lou tells Daniel is the whole "Rashid" ruse--but I strongly suspect that has WAY more to do with ARMAND and Devil's Minion (and AMC tryna throw us off the scent), than anything to do with Louis himself.

So yeah, regardless of Louis/Claudia getting it right about Lestat's face being bloody or not, S2 revisiting Ep5 I think will STILL capture the atmosphere of the toxic environment they were all living under, that culminated in what was obviously a REAL fight that DID happen, that was BAD enough that whatever happened to LOUIS--EFF Lestat, really, ffs--officially made Claudia mad enough to hate Lestat; and Louis guilty enough to go along with her Murder Plot.

[thebabycup]

let's talk stats

First of all, a hearty conyatulations to Koonya!! For the third year in a row and out of a total of 17 matches, Koonya has emerged victorious and remained undefeated!

Koonya had the highest win % out of any competitor, with a win of 92.8% against Gong! The participant with the lowest loss % (after Gong's 7.2%) was unfortunately, of course, Lip, with a measly 13.5% against Beta Cleffa.

I say it was "of course" Lip, because Lip gave 5 different opponents their highest win percentage, and has no wins under her belt whatsoever. The competitor who gave the most opponents their lowest win percentage, meanwhile, could be no one else but Koonya, with a whopping 12 opponents!! For the most part, every single baby who has had the misfortune of facing off against Koonya walked away with the greatest loss of their career.

Speaking of wins and losses, however, here are the top ten babies with the most wins out of all the current tournaments combined:

aaand the bottom ten, four of whom have never won even a single matchup. Look upon these wretched babies, and despair:

Of note, out of those four bottom-of-the-barrel-babies, Tyrogue has the distinction of being one half of the only tie in Baby Cup history, against his original self, Gong, no less! Needless to say, in the rematch Gong pulled ahead by a slim margin and left Tyrogue alone in the zero club.

Now let's talk upsets. The first three headed bird in the room, is of course, Hinaazu. Hinaazu I think really shocked and surprised all of us with their performance this year! In our first year, Hinaazu won only one match (against Elekid) before being mercilessly shut down in the very next match by none other than Koonya. Perhaps this is what planted the seed for revenge...?

Nevertheless, in Year 2 Hinaazu managed quite a decisive win against Mime Jr. before being shut down yet again by Riolu, and shunted into the loser's bracket. There, they squeaked out a win against Chingling before being sent off to Superhell by Azurill.

This year however...! Hinaazu surprised us all with an impressive win streak, exacting revenge upon Azurill along the way before making it all the way to FINALS against Koonya! They were then sent back to the loser's bracket yet again, but managed to claw their way up out of the underworld, banishing Togepi to the darkness and going up against Koonya for the third and final time...!

And then of course they lost. No one can beat Koonya. Koonya is inevitable.

Ummm what else...? I can't say there were many other surprises this year, certainly none on the level of Hinaazu's Cinderella story.

So what can we expect to see next year? Well, looking at my spreadsheet, there are a few babies who jump out at me as being particularly interesting, and may be the ones to watch out for!

Chingling has had zero wins in the primary brackets, but has managed one win in each loser's bracket! Sure, he only has two wins under his belt, but Hinaazu only had three under theirs! Chingling has been pretty consistently seeded against quite popular Pokemon early on in the tournaments (going against Koonya in their first ever match!), so it is very possible that Chingling needs only a little benevolence by the seeding gods. I'd keep an eye on him for the future!

Some other, more consistent babies I would watch out for are Mikon, Pudi, Azurill, and Riolu! These four have all gotten at least one win in every single bracket so far. They certainly seem to be crowd favorites!

Well, that's about all I have for you today! Stay tuned, you may see some more baby on baby violence in the days to come! Until next time!