#but my opponent was so far from worthy

[polyphonial-old]

so. episode 22 of code geass huh.

[houserautha]

These Destined Ends

Part 4

Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: a striptease?, female masturbation, hints at incest/sexual abuse, mentions of killing, he fingers you at the dinner table, public humiliation aplenty

A/N: I made it exactly *checks clipboard* three parts without smut

The garment bag is composed of the finest fabric you’ve ever seen. Your pulse hammers at the thought of whatever might lay within — what could Feyd-Rautha have possibly chosen for you? You eye his usual all black garb.

Zipper cool to the touch, you glide it open, pushing aside the garment bag to reveal your present. Bile rises to your throat at the same time you feel a familiar swoop of desire in your stomach, a summation of your relationship with Feyd-Rautha so far.

The dress — if it could even be called that — shimmers seductively, black, and somehow inlaid with thousands of glittering beads. Two slim straps keep it secured, dangling, from the hanger. And there’s remarkably not much else to comment on: the straps descend daringly low, barely enough to cover your decency.

A belt encircles the middle of the dress loosely, and you can only imagine how it would withstand even the slightest of breezes without exposing you. You swallow, deliberating.

“Where is the rest?”

Feyd-Rautha reclines back in the chair. “Wife, why would I disguise your beauty with useless fabric? It would only pale in comparison.”

“I hardly believe this is acceptable dinner attire,” you point out, surprised at the coolness in your tone.

“It’s rude to refuse a gift,” Feyd-Rautha says. “Will you deny me the pleasures of gifting my wife for the first time?”

You bite your tongue to keep from lashing out. Fine, if that’s how he wanted to play.

Clearly this was his retaliation for your bold behavior, you just hadn’t expected it to come so swiftly after his arrival, or in the form of public humiliation. Normally you wouldn’t dare wear such an affront to fashion, or your sensibilities.

“Very well. I would be remiss to…deny you.” You look to Asha, who has presided over the entire interaction with wide eyes. With a smile, you say, “I would like you to undress me now.”

Her mouth opens, then snaps closed.

The upper level of the antechamber positions you higher than Feyd-Rautha, whose dark eyes have taken on the delighted glint of someone encountering a worthy opponent in the arena. Asha nervously obeys your command as you hold your arms out to your sides, allowing her to undo the difficult laces of your dress. The only sound in the room is the sound of it pooling at your feet.

“I hardly think my husband’s generous gift will allow for underclothes,” you laugh. Asha then begins removing your thin chemise from over your head. She tugs it up over her arms and your breasts slip from the fabric, leaving you entirely naked in the glow of the black sun.

Desire unfurls between your legs. You don’t even have to glance at Feyd-Rautha to know that he is fully captivated by your performance, at the sight of your naked form. In any other situation you might’ve been ashamed of your nudity; the curves you found unseemly, or the dimples of cellulite in the soft flesh of your thighs and ass.

But, beholden by the na-Baron, you were resplendent.

“The dress now, please,” you order Asha, voice breezy and carefree.

Feyd-Rautha’s gaze bores into you, sears your skin like its own personal brand. You loathe to admit that you’re actually enjoying this. Your thighs are slick with revel in your own cleverness, in wresting the control from the man determined to wield it over you.

Asha covers you with the dress, laying it gently over you — nipples hardened and skin flushed with self-admiration, in satisfaction of capturing Feyd-Rautha’s attention so wholly.

Asha moves to fasten the belt next but is interrupted. “Let me,” the na-Baron orders.

Which unspoken, is understood as: leave us. Your friend ducks her head and disappears from the antechamber. You silently thank her for closing the door behind her.

Feyd-Rautha approaches you slowly, measured in his movements. A predator reconsidering its prey.

So then why are you so eager for him to devour you?

He stands infuriatingly close to you without actually touching you, absurdly concerned with the so-called belt hanging at your waist. It vexes you that he refuses to meet your eyes, refuses to give you what you so ardently seek.

“I should strip this from you. Tear this dress from you with my teeth and bind your wrists,” he says, tugging at the belt, agonizingly composed, his breath fanning your face. “Show you exactly what you deserve for pulling a stunt like that.”

His fingers are deft as they fasten the belt. He doesn’t touch you once.

“Did you not like it?” You ask, breathless.

His proximity intoxicates you, takes you by the hand and leads you into a fathomless darkness. And yet he won’t look at you, won’t touch you, just turns simply on his heel of his boot and says over his shoulder, “I’ll see you at dinner.”

The smoldering shower water blasts between the blades of your shoulders, sluices over you and scathes your aching flesh. But it’s not enough, not a fit replacement for touch, for his touch.

Your fingers slip between your thighs and find your pleading cunt. A breathy noise escapes you, and you begin pumping your hand, no time for the attention you usually afford yourself — you’re desperate to rid yourself of this feeling, wash it away in the drain and pretend it never existed. Your release comes fast, insipid, and once your legs have stopped shaking with the effort of your touch, you wrench off the water.

And there you stand, cold and wet, cunt swollen and certainly not satisfied, but at least you can direct your thoughts from —

You slam your fist against the shower wall. Pain, leftover from Feyd-Rautha’s boot, quivers through you like a bow across the string of an instrument. How dare you let yourself become so entangled in him, in his game, in his inescapable command. You are a fool.

Quickly you towel yourself off and step back into the sorry excuse for a dress, warding off any traitorous thoughts belonging to Feyd-Rautha. You have no clue when dinner actually is but you won’t be caught shivering and spent. You apply a simple, dark makeup and leave your hair untouched, determined to set yourself separate from the rest of the Harkonnens in attendance.

And when the scents of food and the clatter of guests float through the antechamber, you take it upon yourself to join the others. You follow the din of a party, a sound you are accustomed to from your time on Caladan, and traipse into the Great Hall to find it already engaged.

The long table usually void of company is brimming with noblemen and women dressed in various shades of blacks and whites, and every single one of them turns and stares at your entrance.

Not even the strictest training can prevent the flood of embarrassment through you. It’s so prominent and all-encompassing that your entire body goes rigid with fear.

“Ah, the Lady Y/N,” a booming voice calls. “How lovely of you to join us at last.”

At the opposite end of the impossibly long Hall, the Baron lifts from the table on his suspensors and effectively stamps out any fleeting hope you had of going quietly into the night. Or perhaps dying on the spot. He hadn’t given you enough time to decide which.

“Come, take your place at my side so that you might meet your court and feast with them on this splendid occasion,” the Baron says.

Surprisingly, your limbs do work, and you somehow carry yourself past the leering eyes in your scanty dress and sit upon the only empty chair at the table. If you weren’t so completely mortified, you might’ve taken the time to glare daggers at the man beside you; Feyd-Rautha lounged regally at the right hand of the Baron. To your utter displeasure, he looked disgustingly wonderful in a dark tunic and pants, his lips reddened by the wine.

It looked a lot like blood.

“I apologize, your Baron, I had no intentions of causing a scene or demeaning your gracious invitation.”

The Baron eats in a ferocious manner best likened to a savage beast, wild and without abandon. Repulsion churns in your belly as you are forced to watch, doing your best to mask your horror as he gulps down his food in large, greedy mouthfuls. A smudge of sauce graces the corner of his unsightly mouth.

“There is no need for apologies, Lady Y/N, as long as it does not happen twice. No court is ever won over by a careless Baroness,” he says icily.

“Where were you?” Rabban asks next.

Rabban sits to the left of the Baron and across from you, fixing you with a glowering look. It’s not lost on you that he is already tormented by this, demoted to the less favorable side of the table in favor for his wicked brother, who replicates Rabban’s probing glare, no traces of awareness that he had been the exact reason for your tardiness.

“We met initially in the salon to give you time to appear. Tell us, where were you, wife? What demands did you have grander than this celebration of our upcoming union?”

Your molars might grind into dust by the end of the evening, if you survive it. You smile sweetly at him. “I suppose I was preoccupied with preparations, na-Baron. Your…gift is not easy to slip into alone.”

“However taxing, you look splendid,” the Baron says. He drains the rest of his goblet. One massive hand descends on Feyd-Rautha’s thigh, strangely intimate. “Nephew, will you fetch me more wine?”

Feyd-Rautha’s face storms over. “We have servants for that, Uncle. Besides, have Rabban do it for you. This banquet is for my benefit, after all, I should be allowed to enjoy it.”

The Baron studies him critically then, more sober than you thought possible. “Very well. Rabban?”

The mountainous man snatches the goblet from his uncle and vanishes to find a servant. You’re prompted to heap some of the food on your plate then, disconcerted by the lingering hand of the Baron and Feyd-Rautha’s obvious resentment.

Dinner passes without a hitch, your tardiness smoothed over by your status as the future Baroness. A small grace for such a tremendous burden.

You entertain the guests with stories of Arrakis and spice production, fielding their endless questions with as much charm and elegance as you can muster. And, frankly, it’s not as horribly daunting or tedious as you feared it to be.

The last course is coming to an end when a man strides up to the Baron with an expression of self-importance. He’s dressed similarly to the other Harkonnen guards but there’s something different about him — where the Harkonnens you know are arrogant about their strength, he hides it well. You immediately start to eavesdrop.

“The Emperor needs you for an urgent matter,” the strange man whispers into the Baron’s ear.

The Baron nods as if he’s been expecting this, and then without a word abandons his feast and glides after the man.

Feyd-Rautha had been surveying the party when you ask him, “What urgent matter?”

He sips his wine. “I don’t know.”

Ha, you think, he had been eavesdropping too. You frown. “He didn’t tell you?”

“My uncle does not tell me everything,” Feyd-Rautha replies. There’s a trace of anger in his voice, but it’s difficult to tell whether it’s pointed at you or the Baron.

Either way, this irritates you. You decide to provoke the beast. “What, like you don’t tell me when our engagement dinner is?”

Feyd-Rautha’s gaze cuts to you. “You’re upset.”

“Yes I’m upset,” you hiss. “I thought I warned you not to humiliate me again. Tonight was inexcusable, you filthy —”

“Ah, careful, wife. You must mind your words before our court. And my oafish brother.” He indicates Rabban with a slight incline of his head. You spot the older Harkonnen approaching with quite the entourage and you scowl. “Don’t make that face. Remember, this is a joyous occasion.”

“How could I forget?” You mutter miserably.

At your side, Feyd-Rautha is a study in beauty. Not in the classical sense, of course, but that of something devastatingly cruel and dangerous, the glint of a newly sharpened blade or the ocean during a storm. Breathtaking, in both senses. Unwittingly, you trace the slope of his brow, his handsome nose, the cushion of his plush lips, and you feel the familiar flicker of attraction.

“Where were you?” Feyd-Rautha asks without looking at you, still watching the party.

“Hm?” Did he know you were studying him? “What did you say?”

“I asked where you were. Before.”

“Oh.” There’s something in his voice that suggests that he knows exactly what you were doing. Your moment in the shower emerges unbidden in your mind, of your hand between your legs and his name in your mouth. You answer as flippant as possible, “I was waiting for you.”

Feyd-Rautha finally sets down his goblet. Rabban is taking his time returning, regaling his entourage with an undoubtedly riveting story, so the na-Baron must feel secure in your privacy.

“You forget that those are my quarters too, wife, and the walls are very thin.”

Shame creeps up your throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, is that right?” Feyd-Rautha grabs the bottom of your chair and pulls you closer to him. Any outside observer would simply think you’re having a regular conversation, which you suppose is the point, but there’s nothing regular about the way he slides his hand across your thigh and dips down to your heat. “Then I didn’t hear you touching yourself, whimpering and pleading for me? For my fingers? My cock?”

“I thought I was —”

“Alone?” He clicks his tongue. “If you didn’t intend for me to hear, then should I not give you exactly what you were begging for?”

It’s only too easy for him to nudge your dress aside and acquaint himself with your cunt, slide his fingers along your swollen lips and tease your entrance. You inhale sharply, without permission. He takes that as an invitation to delve a finger into your slick cunt.

“Feyd —”

“Tell me you don’t want it.”

You swallow, throat working. Rabban is finishing his story, evident by his boisterous laugh and then beckoning his entourage to the table. Feyd-Rautha keeps one finger inside you, unmoving, a sensation unfolding within you that you certainly won’t be able to ignore.

The rest of his hand cups between your thighs, a reminder to you, as long as you yield to him.

“Just say the words, and I won’t,” Feyd-Rautha says, his lips on the shell of your ear.

You’re frozen in indecision. When Rabban rejoins you, you’re sure that Feyd-Rautha will revoke his teasing hand. But instead he rocks his palm against you and drives his finger, then another, deeper inside you with dizzying ferocity.

You grip the edges of the chair, the force of his fingers cleaving through you, invoking a wave of pleasure that ripples throughout your body. It takes everything in you not to cry out.

“Brother, you remember my friends,” Rabban says. His cheeks are reddened by the spice-laden alcohol and he is oblivious to what’s occurring underneath the table. “Uriens and Ze’ev.”

Feyd-Rautha says smoothly, “Of course.”

“Uriens, Ze’ev, this is the Lady Y/N,” Rabban introduces you. He indicates each friend in turn — Uriens, a man of notable stature but a blank gaze, and Ze’ev, slightly smaller and sporting a sneer.

You dip your head and hope it’s enough to count as a greeting. You don’t trust your voice, not with Feyd-Rautha’s ministrations. Your cunt pulses with each one, clamping down on him, even the slightest of withdrawals enough to ruin you. Fortunately for you, or not, Feyd-Rautha shows no interest in stopping, curling his fingers in and out of you with agonizing precision.

“We wanted to speak to you about tomorrow, actually,” Uriens says.

Feyd-Rautha’s eyes narrow. “What about it?”

“What —oh! What’s tomorrow?” You ask. As soon as you speak, Feyd-Rautha pushes another finger in to join the others, spurring your body to jerk in response. You suppress a shudder.

Uriens, Ze’ev, and Rabban look too intent to notice your falter. Uriens explains, albeit with less enthusiasm, “We want to partake.”

Feyd-Rautha’s jaw flexes. His pace slows as he considers this request, and it’s almost more torturous than his persistent thrusts.

“No,” he finally says.

Rabban’s face darkens with anger. “Why not?”

“Traditionally those who partake do so because they are interested in the hand of the wife.” His tone veers dangerously close to a growl. “Are you telling me that you wish to take her from me?”

Uriens eyes widen. “No, na-Baron, we —”

“We understand the ceremony is purely customary. We ask only for a chance to partake in the revelry,” Ze’ev cuts in.

“There is no killing,” Feyd-Rautha says.

Uriens and Ze’ev nod. “Yes, na-Baron.”

“Then I don’t see why you shouldn’t partake.”

You bite back a moan as Feyd-Rautha then resumes his ministrations. You ask, “What’s tomorrow?”

You’re impressed that you manage to keep your voice even.

The Harkonnens exchange glances as if they’re reluctant to answer you. The slight one, Ze’ev, says, “Dessid aperr. The Crucible.”

“It doesn’t concern you,” Feyd-Rautha says.

Your indignation overcomes your pleasure, and you glare at him. “It does if my hand in marriage is being fought over.”

“The Crucible is a ceremony dating back to Emperor Shakkad the Wise,” Uriens eagerly says, jumping to please you. “When a Harkonnnen of noble standing is to be wed, they will engage in a battle against the other noblemen for the hand of the bride. To ensure that the strongest bonds are forged.”

Feyd-Rautha pumps his hand violently against you, and you feel your orgasm building. You grip the chair even harder. “I would like to partake.”

“The brides are not permitted to watch,” Uriens says. Rabban and Ze’ev both glare at him.

“I don’t want to watch. I want to fight.”

“Absolutely not,” Feyd-Rautha rasps.

“Why not?” You ask. You hope the breathy sound of your voice comes across as petulant and not aroused.

Rabban answers, “That’s how it’s always been.”

Feyd-Rautha glances at you. He must know that you’re close, can feel it in the way that you clamp around him. “Wife, is that what you want? Tell me.”

“Y-Yes,” you stammer.

He says, “Tell me that you want it.”

“I want it,” you breathe out, both of you aware of what he’s actually referencing.

More words form on your tongue but you’re unable to say it — your pleasure mounts as Feyd-Rautha buries his fingers inside you with swift finality and your orgasm seizes you. It’s white-hot and dazzling as it tears through you, walls contracting, his fingers stroking you to the end. A shudder racks through you.

Pulse hammering and your thighs trembling, Feyd-Rautha withdraws his fingers. He rises abruptly to his feet. Horror dawns on you as he then pushes his fingers into his mouth and licks them clean. Without so much as glancing back at you, Feyd-Rautha says, “Very well. Don’t be late this time.”

You stare after him. The aftershocks of your orgasm rumble through you — you can’t believe that he just did that then left you to deal with the aftermath. Uriens and Ze’ev stare at you in equal parts confusion and shock, while Rabban sneers at you, seemingly more aware than you thought.

You clear your throat. “Well, that’s been settled.”

“Something has been settled,” Rabban replies. His expression is nearly impossible to read, but the comment makes your cheeks heat up.

“You hold considerable sway over the na-Baron,” Ze’ev says.

You stand, smoothing down your dress and trying to maintain some semblance of composure. It’s difficult when your thighs are still slick, the memory of his fingers imprinted in your mind.

“I will be the na-Baroness,” you remind Ze’ev. “I hold considerable sway over everyone here.”

And with that you leave without excusing yourself, feeling the burn of their gazes on your back. It’s suddenly too warm in the Great Hall for you, the sweaty, lingering bodies suffocating. You’re not quite sure where you’re going. Certainly not after Feyd-Rautha. Though you can’t stop the way that your heart skips hopefully when you feel a hand grab your arm.

“What are you doing?” Asha hisses, spinning you around. “The party isn’t over.”

Post-orgasm clarity is eluding you. You shake your head. “I know, but —”

“Also, what was that shit earlier?” Asha asks. She adjusts her hold on a tray laden with champagne glasses. “There was some weird tension in that room. Don’t involve me in your weird — whatever, with the na-Baron again. Do you hear me?”

You nod stupidly, although you’re not entirely sure it’s a promise you can make.

Asha studies you. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you lie. “But I’m going to retire to my quarters. Can you cover for me?”

“Yeah, of course,” Asha says, obviously not convinced.

You huff out a breath. “I’m going to need the rest if I’m participating in the Crucible tomorrow.”

Asha nearly drops the serving tray. “The what?”

“I’ve been invited,” you say, which is also a lie.

“What?” Asha presses the heel of her hand to her forehead. “What is wrong with you, Y/N?”

To avoid her gaze, you take to scanning the party. You know perfectly well what’s wrong with you and you’re searching for his face even now, despite the fact that he’s the last person you want to see. You sigh. “I wish I could tell you.”

Part 5

Taglist:

@moonsoulk @heartarianagran @torchbearerkyle @unicoreads @taleah @mamawiggers1980 @jovialeggsbailiffsoul @harkonnin @avidreader73 @unicorntrooper @beebeechaos @kamcrazy123

[leathfaic]

Every year around Easter Ghost hides somewhere on the training grounds. If you find him you get half of his leave.

Soldiers all around go fucking feral, Ghost never takes any leave and there's rumours that start around Christmas of how long you'd be able to go home. Weeks probably aren't enough maybe a few months? Some are sure it's at least a full year.

Except of course no one ever finds him.

He's the Ghost and if he doesn't want to be found he isn't. He's just taking the piss, enjoying how the event has people riled up for weeks. He's not one for practical jokes, but this has him cackling.

Enter Soap, the FNG, the man who brings Ghost to his knees. They do their whole song and dance, and come Easter Ghost is hugging his boyfriend before preparing to hide.

Soap promising with a cocky smile that he'll find Ghost and they are going to use that leave for a nice holiday. Which Ghost smiles at, his sweet naive Soap, as if he's gonna hand him a win just because he loves him.

Imagine Ghost's shock when a few hours later he spots Johnny from his hiding spot. He's still high in a tree but the other man is walking directly in his direction and after a few moments he looks up.

Once Ghost is down the tree, still incredulous, but also very much in love, he asks Soap how he did it.

"Let my heart guide me, L.t." is the answer he gets which he calls out for the bloody nonsense it is.

Takes him all the way back to base to make him talk. And even then Johnny just hugs him, reaching around putting a hand in his back pocket (not unusual) and digging around (definitely unusual). Producing a small piece of technology.

"You fucking tracked me?!" his jaw nearly drops at the realisation.

"Aye, slipped it in this mornin' when we hugged."

"You little shit." is all that his brain will allow, mostly hung up on the cocky smile on Soap's face. The same as this morning.

He should be fuming. His proud record broken, he actually has to make good on the promise that so far has been all but hypothetical. Price will be in hysterics about the amount of paperwork that comes with it.

But he can't find it in him to care. He's mesmerized at Soap outplaying him. Drunk on the weird sense of pride that Johnny is so observant and skilled. Most of all he's blown away by the fact that he never even considered the possibility. It would be easy to blame hubris here, but that's not the reason no-one ever pulled a similar stunt.

No, Soap was able to do this because Ghost let him get close. Because he trusts him.

The Ghost that met Soap a few months ago would've panicked at this point. Soap had not only seen his weak spot, he clearly was also cunning enough to use it to his own advantage.

The Ghost that has been loved by Johnny for months now doesn't. Because he trusts him. And because he's proud. And because the rational part of his brain realises that any enemy agent would never have exposed their advantage for a game.

"If you ever do anything like this again-" he doesn't need to know where he wants to end that sentence, but Soap's interjection saves him the trouble "No worries, I like meself alive too."

He'll still have to be careful next year. After all he found a worthy opponent and he can't just make it too easy on him. Probably can not let Soap touch him before the game. Maybe not even the night before. Just to be safe. A fortnight should do it. But that also means a fortnight of not touching Soap...

But he can consider that later. For now he and Soap have a holiday to plan.

[radiance1]

Yet ANOTHER one for my Teddy Bear Danny au!!!

So the Justice League hears word of a group of people trying to summon the Ghost King. The enslaver of worlds, The Conqueror, Enemy of Humanity, etc, etc.

So as usual, they pull up to stop the summoning of such a being, taking along their heavy hitters in the case that they do fail. Which they do, so they prepare to either negotiate, or fight and send this being back where it came from.

A giant man appeared in the circle, one whose mere presence dictated respect and power, everything stopped for a moment, bodies taunt and ready to spring into action at a moments notice.

The Ghost King crossed his arms. "You are in the presence of his majesty, speak your demands and reasoning for this summon."

A squeak, not unsimilar to that of a stuffed toy, was heard as a Teddy Bear peeked over the Ghost King's shoulder. The Ghost King grunted.

"His majesty says hello."

Wait what-

===

Pariah Dark, throughout the years of slumber has dreamed of a life, a life where he no longer had to concern himself with politics or anything of the like.

A peasant life, owning and working on a farm and taking care of horses. Tis the dream, truly. Of course, he was aware that he was dreaming, so when he was to inevitably awake, he would eventually be able to obtain his dream.

He would just need someone to take his place.

Did he expect for the one to take his place to be capable of turning him into one of those human toys? (idea given by @justwannabecat) No, no he did not, which, while not capable of binding him for long if he so whished, but surely someone capable of proving such a feat simply must be a ghost worthy of taking his place, so in his excitement to finally become a humble farmer, he denounced himself as king and coronated his opponent right there on the spot.

It was far, far too late did he realize that the newly appointed king was nothing but a plush and felt teddy bear, and that wouldn't usually be a problem.

But that same plush and felt teddy bear was a ghostling. A fresh ghostling at that. So of course, to renounce his mistake he would have to act in the child's place until he comes of age.

Due to the Crown of Fire and Ring of Rage being his genuine property, he will have to commission the making of a newer crown to be placed upon the ghostling's head, one that the ghostling should, preferably, be capable of handling in terms of power.

[awfcspencer]

Long Live || leah williamson x reader

prompt: The journey of the Euros, Leah's ACL, and then returning.

warnings: mentions of injury, some instances of angst

“I said remember this moment. In the back of my mind. The time we stood with our shaking hands. The crowds in the stands went wild.”

All summer you had watched Leah and her England national teammates endlessly work for this opportunity, a chance to play in a Euro final and hopefully win the Euros on home soil. The tournament had begun swimmingly, solid wins against Austria, Norway, and Northern Ireland, ending the group perfect, with zero goals conceded. It was the perfect triumph heading into quarterfinals with Spain, a worthy competitor that brought a different style of play into the tournament. This would be the first time the England side would be thoroughly tested and you could only hope for the vital win. 

The Spain match was certainly the most stressful thus far, it had you pacing back and forth praying to some sort of God to allow a miracle to happen and England to move forward. A goal slotted in the back of the net by Ester González sent you into a full-blown panic, but luckily Ella equalized near the end of regulation time to take the game to extra-time. A danger of a strike from Georgia sealed the 2-1 win for England to send them into the semifinals with Sweden.

Throughout the tournament, you were allotted minimal time with your girlfriend, between training and media duties, you had to rely on text messages and late-night facetime calls for communication. You even kept those to a minimum so that Leah’s main focus could be on leading England to a Euros final, especially because she was captaining the team. You vividly remember the night she had called you to let you know the news and your heart beamed for your lover every time she stepped on the pitch with the armband. The inability to not actually spend nearly enough time with Leah had been unfortunate for you, but you knew what this meant to her and you would do it every day over again if it meant that she could play to her very best. Later on you would find out that Leah had kept a very detailed journal of her days on camp, sharing every single memory and thought with you after the come down of the tournament when she returned home.

You could also tell just how the sport of women’s football was growing at each game, thousands of fans attended the matches, breaking records at each stadium. You even spotted several little girls and boys wearing your girlfriend’s kit, imaging one day your own kids wearing their mother’s number on their back. You swelled with pride at every match, seeing Leah’s passion for the game and her ability to lead her team, she and her team were finally getting the recognition they had worked so hard for and starting a new wave of young women playing football.

The next opponent, Sweden, brought one of the most historic goals with Alessia finding the back of the net with her backheel. A 4-0 win that sent England into the finals to face a powerful Germany team. You were overjoyed with happiness while you spent half the summer supporting your girlfriend at various stadiums across England and her dreams were so close you could taste it. At every single game, Leah would look up at her section and you would meet her with flashing eyes and a dimpled smile, you were always there and Leah loved every minute of it.

“I’m so proud of you baby! Onto the finals!” You congratulated her as she made long strides towards the section where you sat, hugging you desperately close. You mostly kept the interaction brief and short to allow her to visit with the several family members that had continuously showed up to support Leah.

She kept you close though, basking in your presence with an arm laced around your waist as she conversed with the people around you. You also spent some time congratulating different members of the England squad who you had come to know through Leah, ushering them well wishes and good luck’s as they passed by.

The Germany game brought you endless nervousness and stress, you desperately wanted your girlfriend to win, you saw all the hard work her and all her teammates had poured in and you wanted nothing more than them to be rewarding with a historic win. The first half ended goalless as you held close to Amanda, she had been by your side all tournament long and you both knew how desperately bad England and Leah wanted this win. Ella came on as a substitute and gave England the lead 1-0, but not long after, Germany unfortunately equalized, sending the match into extra time tied 1-1. 

You hadn’t been able to sit the whole match, anxiously swaying back and forth as you watched. The next goal felt like it happened in slow motion, a corner kick by Lauren that bounced off of Lucy and luckily entered the patch of Chloe who nearly sealed the Euros win with an incredible goal. An all-around effort of time wasting and the final whistle blew, ‘England are European champions’ rang throughout a nearly sold-out Wembley stadium as the crowd erupted in cheers. 

 You jumped up and down while embracing several of Leah’s various family members into hugs, cheering amongst yourselves as you celebrated. England had done it and you were ecstatic for your girlfriend. Once finished with mandatory media duties and celebrating with her teammates, she made her way towards you.

“You’ve earned this love, Leah Williamson European champion!” You exclaimed with tears in your eyes as the confetti fell. “I am so, so proud of you. I’m speechless right now, just so happy baby. You did it!”

“I couldn’t have done it without your support.” She happily expressed, lifting you up while swinging you around as your fingers threaded through her hair, a wide smile cemented on your faces. You met her lips with a bruising kiss, thinking back to all the lonely nights in bed without your lover, remembering all the sacrifices she had made to make it to this moment made this moment all the more sweeter. Your childhood neighbor turned best friend and then eventually lover from Milton Keynes had led her country to a European championship and you couldn’t be happier.

To this day, watching her raise the trophy with her team had been one of your favorite memories, also the copious amount of partying and celebrating that ensued after the finals into the early hours of the next morning. 

“You held your head like a hero.”

April 19th will always be a date forever engrained into your mind. A matchup between Manchester United and Arsenal at Leighs Sports Village where Arsenal looked to avenge a 2-3 loss to the Manchester side at the Emirates in the beginning half of the season, fighting to stay in the top of the WSL standings.

You’d woken up early this matchday, looking at the alarm clock that read a few minutes after 8 A.M. in red numbers. Stretching out your limbs and rolling over to your lover who lied in a deep sleep, her chest rising and falling slowly. She looked peaceful and you decided you would let her rest a little longer, knowing that waking a sleeping Leah too early resulted in a grumpy Leah, and you undeniably knew that Leah would snooze her alarm a few times before actually getting up anyways. 

You took the time to properly make Leah a sufficient breakfast that included necessary carbs and protein to fuel the athlete, knowing the defender’s usual ham sandwich pregame meal would not be efficient enough for her to play to her best potential no matter how many times you had told her. You’d checked her kit bag twice to make sure she had everything she needed and even added a little post-it note that told her how much you loved her and wished her a good game, placing it in her left boot so she could find it right before the match.

“Good morning super star, ready for today?” You asked the blonde when she came shuffling into the kitchen a half an hour later, rubbing her tired eyes and still dressed in her pajamas. Meeting her upon her entrance in a warm embrace before you ushered her towards the kitchen table to eat her meal while you finished up making yourself a coffee. Manchester United always gave a valent effort, especially when they played against the Arsenal red, but you had little to no doubt that Leah and her squad could pull out an important win.

“Ready as ever, I feel good,” she told you in between bites. “You’ll be there right? I need my good luck charm in attendance.”

“Of course I will baby, wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You told her as you joined her at the table, a large grin plastered across the defender’s face. “But you really need to hurry, you have to leave in 20 minutes.”

“20 minutes?” the blonde questioned, glancing down at her watch to check the time which indicated she indeed need to put a pep in her step. “Where has the time gone? Thank you for breakfast baby.” Leah said placing her dishes in the sink and meeting you back at the table to pepper soft kisses on the side of your cheek.

“Leah, you hit the snooze button 4 times this morning and have the audacity to be shocked you’re running late? Honestly woman you surprise me every day.” You teased towards her as she ran to get dressed and do in her hair in the bedroom while you finished your breakfast at the table, mindlessly scrolling on your phone.

Several minutes later she waltzed out in the Arsenal sweatsuit combo with her sudoku book in hand and her iPad in the other. She met you at the door where you held her fully packed kit bag up for her as she sent you a thankful smile when you placed the bag on her shoulder. You carefully tucked a loose strand of her blonde hair behind her ear that had fallen out of her ponytail, secretly chuckling to yourself at the endless hours you told Leah how much she would regret getting a fringe after the photoshoot was over. 

“Love you baby, play well today. Score a goal for me, yeah?” You whispered in her ear, throwing your arms around her neck, hugging her close before pulling her in for a passionate kiss, only forcing yourself to separate when you remembered Leah needed to be leaving or she would miss the bus. 

Leah opened the door before turning back towards you, “Just one more hug before I leave? Please?” your girlfriend begged and who were you to deny her, pulling her in for another warm, tight embrace.

“Now go Williamson or you’re going to be late.” You told her, practically having to shove the blonde out the door and closing it quickly behind you to avoid her forming some sort of wild excuse for another hug or kiss. You quickly finished up cleaning the last reminiscent of breakfast before getting ready for the match yourself, throwing on your ‘Williamson 6’ kit and getting into your car to drive to the stadium. 

------

The stadium was rambunctious, fans filling nearly every inch, excited to watch the next 90 minutes of football between two talented sides. You watched during warmups as Leah carefully scanned the crowd for her section of family and friends, sending her a wave and a smile when your eyes finally met hers as she returned the actions. Soon enough, warmups had ended, and the match was set to begin and you were on the edge of your seat, knees bobbing up and down until the whistle blew. Leah had already sent you a text that she found your little not, accompanying the message with a smile selfie holding the post-it.

Watching Leah play the sport she loved was something you would never take for granted, especially after this game.

It all happened so fast, one second Leah was on her feet and the next, she wasn’t. It was normal for Leah to play aggressively, using her body in ways to excel her game, not wanting to potentially give up anything to the opposition. It was a move she had done countless of times in training and on the pitch, so you expected her to bounce back up quickly and continue on. But she didn’t get up.

Looking down as your girlfriend lay face down on the pitch pounding her hand on the pitch in pain broke your heart in indescribable ways. Each second that passed that Leah did not get up sent a dagger farther and farther into your chest, wanting nothing more than to run onto the pitch and console your girlfriend. You were sure you hadn’t let out a single breath since she went down and it felt like every Arsenal fan, player, and coach also held their breath, they’d seen the injury with Beth, and then with Viv, and now they might have just witnessed another, the dreaded three letter word. The stadium fell eerily silent, everyone unsure of what to say or do next while the medics attended to your wincing lover, and it cut directly right through you.

You found yourself murmuring, “Get up Leah. Please, just get up baby. Please be okay,” as you watched from your seat, heartbroken with shaking legs and red rimmed eyes. 

The images of your tear-stained girlfriend limping off the pitch haunted your eyes every time you closed them as you tried to regain your composure throughout the rest of the first half. You wanted to run back towards the changing rooms and demand someone to tell you what was going on, but it would do no good, Leah was with exactly who she needed to be with in this moment but that didn’t necessarily make you feel any better. Sat in the stands you thought about the next leg of the Champion League that she could possibly miss, or the World Cup that was set to happen in the summer, but you forced those thoughts out of your mind, reframing your brain into thinking that Leah would be okay, and it was a minor injury, nothing to worry or fret over. She would be okay, she had to be okay.

An Arsenal staff member had come and found you not long after the halftime whistle blew, he didn’t say much, just a request to follow him. He led you through the underbelly of the stadium and into the physio room where you saw the most gut-wrenching sight. Your girlfriend lied on the cushioned physio table as various trainers examined her knee, her baby blue no longer shed tears and her agonizing demeanor that she showed on the pitch was gone. Instead she lied in a catatonic state while everything happened around her, until she saw you enter.

You step forward towards her, meeting her at her side at the table, still unsure of what the diagnosis was. Your hands interlaced with hers immediately, brushing your thumb back and forth over your lover’s knuckles. She tilted her face to you and uttered the most gut-wrenching letters.

 “ACL.” She said monotoned with a tightened jaw and thin lips. You knew she would still need a scan to properly confirm the diagnosis but the instant flash of pain that quickly subsided and the pop of the knee that she described to you after undoubtedly pointed to the tore muscle. 

“Oh baby.” Your heart raced wildly. “I’m so sorry.” Releasing a shaky breath that you weren’t aware you were holding in. You don’t really know what to do, you open your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out.

“Oh love, I wish I could take away all the pain from you.” You told her in a whispered hush just loud enough for her to hear. They were the only words that felt right in the situation as the trainers around the two of you talked among themselves on how to proceed next. 

Leah wanted to leave as soon as the physios allowed her to, you assisted in getting her to your car that you had driven to the stadium while the Arsenal staff collected her belongings and brought them to you. You sent them a quick thanks and drove home as quickly as you could. This was all new uncharted territory, Leah had never been injured for a potential prolonged time like an ACL injury would have her sidelined and not being an athlete yourself, you couldn’t exactly understand what was going on in your lover’s mind.

The days before her scan were hard, Leah still didn’t say much, keeping to herself in your shared bed a majority of the time, but each night when she believed you were asleep, she would cry with sobs that wracked through her body and sent overwhelming pain and hurt through yours. 

A doctor’s appointment and an MRI scan that you accompanied Leah to confirmed the dreaded injury. The medical team discussed the next steps to Leah and yourself about surgery and rehab treatments and after what left like hours, you were finally able to take Leah home. 

In bed later that night, Leah worked tirelessly trying to type up a statement to say to her social media to let her fans know what was going on, but with each sentence she typed, she would quickly delete it, leaving her with a blank note once again. The two of you hadn’t really talked about the extent of the injury and what it means for the two of you just yet, again, it was all uncharted territory, and you didn’t want to say the wrong thing and make her more upset than she already was. She’d finally come up with the right words she was looking for and sent out the message, promptly closing her phone and setting it on the bedside table after. 

You set down the book that you had been reading right before bed and turned to your girlfriend’s sad eyes.

“Oh my sweet, sweet Leah.” You cooed, pulling her into your arms, gently tilting her chin to look into her eyes before saying, “You know you don’t have to do this alone, because I care about you, okay? And I will be here every step of the way.”

“Please, just hold me.” She cried, and that is what you did, clutching onto her body with a strong hold, rubbing circles into her back as she sobbed into your arms until she eventually tired herself out and fell asleep. 

“Of all the years that we stood there on the sidelines. Wishing for right now.”

Driving Leah to the hospital on the day of her operation was when the injury really felt real, up to this point the whole situation had felt like a bad dream, hoping to wake up and Leah would be perfectly fine, but that never happened. You tried your best to keep spirits high in the operation room and distract Leah the best you could by remembering to grab her sudoku book before leaving the house and making Leah pose in her oversized hospital gown for a picture. You told her every positive affirmation you could possibly think of as they wheeled her out of the room, clutching her hand until the last very second she wasn’t in reach, and then you waited, waited for what felt like years.

You’d already taken the time to text Beth and Viv separately to discuss in what ways you could best aid Leah during this journey, talking about what worked and what didn’t work. Several of the Arsenal girls had sent their well wishes to you for Leah, knowing by now she was already in surgery, you sent them a quick thank you message and promised to text as soon as she was out. You also already had the house set up to assist in rehab, purchasing the ice machine that Beth had raved about and miscellaneous things that you had bought online after reading about the best rehab techniques for ACL injuries. 

Leah’s rehab was filled with the highest highs and the lowest of lows, but nonetheless, you were right by her side through every step, even when she didn’t want you to be. The first few weeks right after surgery were probably the worst part of her rehab and you could tell the toll it was taking on the defender as she would lash out at you over the simplest of things, quickly apologizing after she realized her negative outburst. 

Leah had to physically relearn how to walk and relearn how to use the weak muscle and she felt herself doubting her body’s ability to measure up to what she was before the injury. She spent long days at the Arsenal facility, focusing on her rehab to the point where it was all she thought about, every move she made was to increase her ability to get back on the pitch.

You tried to coax Leah into confiding in you for how she was feeling but most nights it turned into an argument where Leah claimed she didn’t want to talk about it and that she was fine. You knew how badly she wanted to just play football, especially when she had to resort to watching the Champions league matches from the couch with her knee propped up with a few pillows.

“You don’t have to be so stoic all the time Leah, crying isn’t a sign of weakness, you know. You can’t just keep it all bottled up. You have to let it all out of you, otherwise you’ll just explode.” You told her as you watched the match, watching as Leah’s lip trembled a bit as she watched what was supposed to be her on the pitch.

“I’ll never be that me again, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. I don’t know who I am anymore without football.” She said, her eyes never left the television but you could tell the tears threatened to fall.

“You’re still you Leah, the same Leah who leads Arsenal’s defense, the same Leah who led England to a European championship, you just have a new ACL love.” Leah curled more into you, placing her head in your lap while you ran your fingers through her blonde hair. 

“I am so very in love with you, thank you for everything, I know I haven’t been the best girlfriend recently but you are my everything.”

“Oh Leah, my sweet, sweet Leah, you are nothing but perfect, sure the journey has not been ideal but I’ve loved you since the moment I first laid my eyes on you and an ACL injury doesn’t change anything about how I feel about you. I just need you to let me in, talk to me about what is going on in that pretty little head of yours, okay?” You bent your head down to place a soft kiss on her cheek, and you felt Leah give a small nod in your lap.

Watching the World Cup from your shared home also felt like a punch to heart, knowing that if this injury hadn’t occurred, Leah would be there and you would too. The Australian times meant waking up early, most days you were up before the sun, but Leah woke up every match day and watched as her team continued to win throughout the major tournament. When England made the finals, you knew Leah needed to be there and she knew too, next thing you knew you were on the long flight over. The loss in the finals was hard but there was so much to be proud of and you knew the England girls found comfort in having Leah in attendance. 

The second half of Leah’s rehab was much better, especially after the conversation you had as Leah now let you in, told you how she was feeling through every high and low of recovery. Once Leah was able to get back into the gym and very light football trainings, her spirits were lifted dramatically, she was closing in on her return to the pitch.

Throughout recovery, Leah did several media outings, finally getting the time to attend the events and let herself really enjoy having a break from football, trying to look at the positives in the situation. You accompanied her to nearly all the events and took the time to thoroughly enjoy just being a couple, relinquishing in the time allotted allowed to just be with Leah.

“Hold on to spinning around. Confetti falls to the ground. May these memories break our fall.”

With every month that passed since Leah’s injury, you knew she was getting closer and closer to stepping back on the pitch. She had now joined in on full training and was looking very solid. You thought back to all the tribulations Leah had overcame to get to this very moment, all the nights she sobbed in your arms and wished everything had gone down differently, all the days she spent cooped up inside doing her various stretches and rewatching her previous matches. 

All of the members of the Arsenal physio staff had worked diligently to get Leah ready to return, they had done well in their efforts when Beth and Viv returned and you were sure they knew when Leah was ready, on account that Leah herself was ready to return. 

You sat on the couch after returning home from work, searching through the television channels to find something on that was worthwhile that wasn’t some trashy reality show. A click of your front door and your girlfriend practically ran into the living room, jumping on top of you on the couch, screaming words you couldn’t exactly catch because she was speaking so quickly. 

“Lee slow down. What happened?” You asked, pushing the heavy blonde off of you and throwing her to the side of the couch, chucking a small pillow at her as she made a loud huff when you forced her off you.

“It’s happening baby. They said I can come on during the Reading game, most likely in the second half” the blonde exclaimed from the top of her lungs, standing nearly bouncing off the couch with energy.

“This is everything you’ve been working towards baby, all your hard work has paid off. I’m so proud of you baby. You’ve earned this moment.” 

You couldn’t help but jump up and down at the news, you were really the only person who was able to see every up and down of Leah’s rehab journey and you had stuck by her side every step of the way. 

The League Cup against Reading couldn’t have been better, the Arsenal were up 4-0 when Leah came off the bench in the final half hour to replace Jen. The crowd roared like never before when Leah began warming up and erupted when she was finally subbed on.

To make the moment even sweeter, Leah went on to provide an assist to Beth near the 80th minute to make it 5-0. You held your breath each time she moved on the pitch, the images of her injury replayed in your mind over and over, but each time Leah moved and dribbled around, she proved that she was fit to come back and be an even better player than before. The game ended with a win and you couldn’t help but run towards the pitch as soon as the final whistle blew and Leah found you immediately. 

You give in to the magnetic pull between the two of you, wrapping your arms around the back of her waist and pulling her against you, your lips crashing into hers. Your heads twist and tilt and readjust clumsily. You breath hard against her sweaty, salty skin as she drags her fingers down your jaw and off the end of your chin over and over, trying to pull you impossibly closer. 

“Oh my Leah, you’ve really outdone yourself. I am so deeply proud of you.” You told her once the two of you separated, wiping the small tears that feel from her eyes. 

It was nearly almost an exact year from the date the Leah tore her ACL that she made her return to Wembley for the England squad and you couldn’t be pleased with your lover. 

“If you have children someday. When they point to the pictures. Please tell them my name.”

Several years down the road, you were sat with your wife and two daughters at the kitchen table looking over various scrapbooks and photo collections just reminiscing.

“When did mama get hurt?” Your eldest daughter, Emily, asked, pointing to a photo that you had taken of Leah in her oversized hospital gown right before her ACL surgery. 

“I hurt my knee in a match and I had to get surgery to fix it.” Your wife told her.

“Was it scary?”

“It was a little bit scary, but I had mommy by my side and all your aunts at Arsenal to help me through it.” She explained, wrapping her arm around your waist and pulling you closer to her chair and giving you a small kiss on the cheek.

“This is the picture when mommy was able to play again.  She was out for nearly 9 months.” You told her, shifting the photobook to the next page that had all the pictures you’d taken during the Reading match. 

“9 months? That is like a million years.” Your youngest daughter piped in. 

“It sort of felt like a million years some days.” Leah said looking down at her watch, “Okay girls, bedtime, remember we have to wake up early for Emily’s match.” 

You gave each of your daughters a tight hug and kiss while wishing them a good night’s sleep and making sure to tell Leah no funny business, she had a habit of letting the girl’s convince her into reading more than one bedtime story.

While Leah put the girls to bed, you made sure to pack Emily’s kit bag, packing tiny ham sandwiches cut into triangles into the bag, a habit that your wife instilled in your daughter before each match. When Leah returned to the kitchen, she pulled the post-it notes from the junk drawer and began writing a note to Emily, wishing her good luck and telling her how much the two of you loved her, a habit you had done with Leah before her games. 

-----

Kinda hate how this turned out but it is finished nonetheless

[littlemissferret]

01 ,, BEDWARS

series : BASTARDS IN MÜNCHEN <next chapter: 02>

sypnosis: you find out who put the bastard(s) in bastard münchen

no prns used (reader). bm academy era. they're all 15/16-ish? cw: swearing. use of word "smegma". petty arguments. *note: "schnick, schnack, schnuck" is german's (childish) version of "rock, paper, scissors" & its not used in all regions !

You don’t know what you had expected. Years long of being involved in the sports industry, playing football with all kinds of players. You should’ve expected these bunch were no better than the average rowdy teens from back home.

“Hey, man. Why not we schnick, schnack, schnuck* for it? ‘Cuz I’m really not excited about being stuck in here with you stubborn smegmas for the whole day doing this.”

“Tone it down with the crude language, will you? And you’re just as stubborn!”

“Great! It’s settled then. You both will duke it out over there while I have my beauty sleep right on this bed.”

Kaiser walks over to the bed the two other men were pointing at, deeming himself to be the one worthy of the soft mattress. Flipping his stomach onto the duvet as he shoves his face into the fresh pillow.

“Hey! We haven’t decided who gets the bed yet!” The nerve of this guy, Ness thinks to himself. First day of the prestigious Bastard München Academy, and he’s already so restless talking to his roommates. Oh no.. how well are they going to fare on the field if this is how they act over a bed?

Well, whatever. There's nothing you can do about their behavior anyway. Footballers will be footballers, stubbornly fueled with their (still-subconscious) ego. If sleeping arrangements are what they're pettily fighting over right now, then so be it.

You, of course, as the bigger person- will help them settle this case. Just this once.

You decide that you were rightfully the one worthy of the said bed. So you walk over to the group, frowning as you start poking and pulling on Kaiser’s hair.

“Go find your own bed to sleep on, I need a rest having to witness you all kick the ball around like primary schoolers on the field today.” Relentlessly trying to display your fatigue, you fake a yawn after your short statement- as if you didn’t just spit an insult at their previous play on the field.

Irked by the constant tugging of his blond tresses, Kaiser turns his face sideways on the pillow to glare at you- as you’re still jerking his golden locks to your direction.

“Excuse me? I can clearly recall absolutely destroying you and your team today. The loser’s bed is thataway,” with an eyebrow raised, he catches your criminal hand and lifts a delicate finger to the direction of the two bunk beds near the door.

“I haven’t lost at all,” you retort, cocking an eyebrow to mimic him as a challenge. “Out of everyone on the field, I was the only one that has single handedly managed to read the moves of every single one of you out there- and reacted to them.” You boast cockily, discarding the fact that your team had lost to Kaiser and Ness in that practice match.

Ness frowns at the blatant shit-talking, “Then why didn’t you react to Kaiser’s shots?” Calling out your bullshit, he presses on. “Weren’t you just standing there most of the match watching everyone run around? How did coach not sub you out, honestly.”

You roll your eyes, sighing and all to be dramatic as you wave your hand dismissively at him. “I was simply wisely spending my first day scouting out my opponents. Besides, I didn’t need to react to your plays because even if I did, my teammates would be either too caught up with you or too far up from defence position to assist me anyway.”

Kaiser smirks as he waves his finger at you, “Excuses, excuses. Have your loser’s lament on the bunk beds, won’t you? This sturdy bed is for winners. Now shoo, I’ve got no time to spend on listening to you losers whine about your loss.”

“Huh? But I won too, I was on your team!” Ness furrows his brows at Kaiser’s unwillingness to budge, “...Fine, then I’ll take the top bunk of this one.” Given that it is getting pretty late, he scurries to climb up and claim one of the top bunks before anyone else does.

“Ugh, if I’m off to take a late night shower to cool off. All of your bickering pissed me off,” spoken like no one ever, Gesner huffs, slinging his towel over his shoulder and walks out of the room. “I’m not happy with this arrangement by the way, we’ll continue this tomorrow!” He voices out in the hallway.

By a miracle, Grim was already dead asleep in bed. (The bottom bunk, boy is too sad to give a rat’s ass about sleeping arrangements. If there’s a bed he’ll take it.)

“Whatever, I’ll just have to win the next match tomorrow and take back my bed then.” you scoff, giving Kaiser a stink-eye as you walk to the other top-bunk.

The messy blond displays a shit-eating grin, then yawns sarcastically at you.

“Try your best, you eristic loser.”

© littlemissferret 2024 ✦ do not repost, translate or modify .

personally i would NOT take that level of disrespect ...

- here's a short scenario! i wanted to write reader to be a lot more stubborn than this, but was afraid that i'll get carried away - hoping to make this a bm academy timeline series but we'll see 🙏 yes its my first time writing a fan-work how could u tell 😭

[nyazhis-jsablr]

Battle of the Blixers - Finale Results

“Welcome to the final post of the Battle of the Blixers! I’m your host Step, and it was a very fun and intense competition thus far!”

“It was very fun seeing every submission, as well as how the contest played out! I will definitely miss doing this.

“But that aside, the end is now upon us, and with that, let’s see who won this entire thing!”

PLACEMENT POINTS

“So first off, we have the placement points! These points will be awarded to the competitors based on their placement on the podium at the end of C5!”

“And here they are!”

“Welp, it’s how it always was! Blixter & Eclipses in the top two, with everyone else fighting for 3rd, in this case, the other Blixter!” “In any case, let’s head to Category 2!”

ABSTRUSE DECIPHER POINTS

“This is the prize for guessing the song correctly!”

“Blixer Eclipses got the song correctly, so he’s getting 3 extra points!”

AUDIENCE VOTE

“Now, we have the audience vote! We already saw the outcome, with Blixter winning over the audience yet again! Let’s award everyone’s points now!”

JURY VOTE

“Now for the jury vote! The way this works is that the jury lists the entries from 1-3, their least favorite being 1 and most favorite being 3. Afterwards, I tally up the results and get the final number!”

“Before I reveal the points though, here’s a statement from the one and only Blixer Kunzite! literally hes the only one that voted during the voting period”

JSABAddict’s submission:

“What a very interesting fight! Didn’t expect such a…brute, to have skillful moves like that. I’d say this one caught my eye, sad that they weren’t able to kill their opponent but, oh well! As for the ‘begging’, as you put it, poor reasons. I believe them when they said they joined for fun and thrill but, c’mon! What about the glory and respect you would get from winning!? Ah, apologies for the yelling. Now then, I’d say they’re in between, not the worst nor the best.”

Zim-card’s submission:

“Quite an interesting yet odd ending, in my own opinion..but nonetheless, I think they did well! But..a bit disappointed AGAIN by the fact that another square wasn’t at least damaged, MORE disappointed it ended off in good terms. The reasons for winning are well put, I have been watching from afar how they had been handling every challenge well— expect for the cooking one. I’d say this is also in between! I’ll..have to think how I’ll rank these..”

Starwlf’s submission:

“As for this one..I LOVE IT! The fact that you managed to actually defeat the player while also giving good reasons! The first time being apart of this to gain some sort of ego boost through this and showing your strength! Wonderful! Very solid reasons, along with skillful moves— other than the fact they did managed to get hurt in the face, but they proved themselves worthy, to me.”

“Well that’s that! Can’t believe nobody else was available during voting… anyways… Here’s the results!”

COMPETITOR VOTE

“And now, here’s the competitor vote, where each of the competitors voted on each other!”

“Here’s what they each have to say!”

starwlf Blixter (told thru starwlf’s perspective):

My point goes to zim’s submission. Blixter enjoys watching a good fight. And man was it delivered. And seeing such a shift to a kinder tone gave him a reminder of his own loved one. A fight against a narrative is all too familiar for him.

Blixer Eclipses:

Probably starwlf (cause in the end zim's gonna win regardless so I figured to like. barely even it out, I dunno)

zim-card Blixter:

“I gotta send a vote to starwlf. I like his determination and confidence, I can understand his stance within this whole challenge as someone new to the ring. I also find it sweet that he's willing to split the prize when he wins... I'd do the same too, honestly. Sure, I'm off put at the successful murder so hm... ah, I can't exactly be the judge of morals when the challenge did ask for a duel. My vote still stands for the fella!”

“So we got 2 votes for starwlf’s Blixter, and a vote for zim’s Blixter! Let’s convert them to points!”

STEP’S EXTRA CREDIT

“Now it’s MY turn to judge!”

“For starwlf’s Blixter, I love the intensity! And actually succeeding in defeating, good job!”

“For Blixer Eclipses, although not much hits were dealt, you put up a good fight with that amazing dodging skills! I also find it pretty funny that he kept dodging the blasts when it’s usually the other way around… heh.”

“For zim-card’s Blixter, the fight was pretty cool! But at the same time you somehow made up with your Cyan and uhhhhhhhh”

“sorry youre going below the others”

“Anyways, let’s get to the points I’m giving out!”

“And the winner of the Battle of the Blixers is……”

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!!!BLIXTER!!!

Total Points:

@zim-card : 30

@jsabaddict : 29

@starwlf : 27

“Congratulations for winning, now here are your prizes!”

“Yeah, I figured that the runner-ups should receive consolation prizes, so me and Pulse just scrambled around the ‘tower’ and found these.”

“Anyways, that’s it!”

“Like I said, it was amazing holding this competition, and I hope me and everyone else had a fun time with it! Now we’re done, so so long! For the last time…

My name is Step, and this has been the Battle of the Blixers! Until then, see you!”

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“So what now?”

“To be honest I have no clue. Probably gonna sleep and also watch these other universes I found. Speaking of, there’s this one cool universe I found, their Barracuda is a snake man who is extreme evil, and last I checked the you and me in it were working together!”

“Okay.”

“Oh, and their Lycanthropy was my brother? I think? Was it blood or found? I don’t remember.”

“Speaking of, I gazed into the Black Room again. I think I saw someone, but it might’ve just been me. Looked a lot like your descriptions of th……..

The two continued their talk, which if I will fill this ending segment with, Tumblr might actually crash lmfao

Anyways, sorry the ending post took so long, i suddenly got a small internship somewhere so it was a bit busy

Other than that, fun contest, yeah? It was really fun hosting it for me!! But if it wasnt fun for any of the competitors, i am genuinely really sorry and i wanna make it up to you if i can

Idk if ill do another contest, but if i will then idk when lol

I have an idea for this tho, maybe a talk-show like thing where step interviews jsab fancharacters?

BotB is gonna be my main au now cuz i gotten extremely attached to the botb gang (which is canonically only step & pulse, but the others are gonna join in if i introduce them in botb lore lol)

Sorry H*I & main au, i dont wanna play with you anymore /ref

Anyways have a good day!!!! Nyazhi out!!!!

[vaguely-concerned]

I am absolutely positively irreconcilably LOSING MY MIND over what this:

(also... omg they're so cute here in their teeny tiny car)

is doing thematically when put up against:

the WEIGHT. the WEIGHT added to all of that when you realize that Lupin CHOSE to be Lupin the Third, and the first thing he chose as Lupin the Third was Jigen (Jigen's HEART, something a teen/tween Jigen seems ready to already half-believe doesn't even exist anymore fhsdfjka). recognizing something fundamental of himself in Jigen was what made him choose to be Lupin as we've known him all this time -- that one moment of connection, of true resonance, of 'whatever souls are made of, yours and mine are the same (utterly unhinged)'... after all his dad and grandpa each did to try to shape him in their image, that one moment of honesty from Jigen was what made him decide to be himself. and keep choosing that. for the rest of his life. he said 'fuck it, it IS a story, it's MY story, and I want my story to be with you if you want to come along for the ride'.

(and then from Jigen's side -- he's been pulling back from Lupin again and again in Zero under the reasoning that he's a bad influence, that he'll tarnish his life eventually because he's got something indelibly stained and broken about him already that he doesn't want to get all over Lupin as well, you sort of get the feeling that admitting how fighting a worthy opponent gives him a rush like nothing else was half meant as something to push Lupin away for good... and then to see Lupin just come to life because of it instead!! Lupin walks right past his gun and his skills and puts his hand on his chest and says 'no, this is the part that matters, this is what I want, the rest is just a fancy trinket', after pretty much every person we've seen Jigen interacting with thus far has only been interested in what he can do for them, as if he were nothing more than the gun. I mean. what was he supposed to do, not fall desperately and fathomlessly in love with this dude for the rest of his life??? unrealistic honestly he had no choice at that point. and despite all his fears Jigen goes on to be the one most stable and steady presence in Lupin's life, protective rather than corruptive. what a fucking relief that must be honestly, that not only did he not hurt Lupin by allowing himself to be closer to him, he helped him discover something wonderful -- with all his sharp edges he brought him joy instead of blood, and Lupin takes him along on that joy right through their lives, all the way up, through Part 5 and beyond. what the fuck. help. there aren't enough italics in the world to express what I feel here)

I thought I couldn't love this part 5 scene more than I already did but oh my god they've retroactively put in place the setup it's the payoff for and now I'm on my knees

[the-fluff-piece]

"He did WHAT?" - one piece guys dealing with your toxic asshole ex - headcanon

Summary: lots of people have one - the toxic asshole ex boyfriend that did some horrible stuff to you. You told your new OP bf about what your previous relationship was like after some time to explain some of your more unusual behaviours. What might happen when they get the chance to serve that dick some revenge?

A fluff collection of headcanons about Law, Sanji, Zoro and Luffy giving that bastard what he deserves.

And check out my headcanon masterlist

Cw: mentions of unspecific abusive behaviours and trauma responses, and of course, comic violence like it happens in the show.

That said...Enjoy some revenge fantasies! Share in the comments what you want them to do to your asshole ex!

Disclaimer, I feel I need to say this) : I am no psychiatrist! This is just some silly headcanons and in no way a real help. If you feel that things people did to you years ago still haunt you, get professional help, it's really good!

Law

When he first hears the story about how you have been treated, his expression darkens. "I am here now, he's gone" is what he tells you - and himself, too. But it gnaws at him. He hates manipulators that put people in literal or psychological cages. And he hates that it happened to you.

When they meet in person, Law will rearrange your ex's body and is open for your suggestions. Why not replace his head with a cannonball and take his dick as a trophy? He doesn't need to spew abusive bullshit anymore and no one needs his sexual attention anyways.

Law will sleep better, knowing that he did to him what you wouldn't have because you are too good a person

He is not one for elaborate compliments and he is no therapist, but he will try to help healing the wounds you sustained by being the most supportive and positive boyfriend you ever had. If you need his shoulder, he is there. If you feel bad, he will do anything to make you feel better. He will not make you do anything you don't feel comfortable with.

Sanji

As you casually tell him about your past relationship he catches fire and has to run around the ship a few times to cool down. He switches between pampering you extra, extra EXTRA nice and angry mutterings to himself. He promises you if he ever meets that guy, he is going to kick him through all the grand line and back again

When the moment comes, Sanji switches into total ruffian mode. You have never heard that string of merciless trash talk from anyone before and it doesn't take long until he has totally set off your ex, luring him into throwing the first punch. It is, of course, futile, but Sanji takes his time to finish him off. He should, after all, learn that no one should hurt his lady.

He is visibly relieved to have finally gotten revenge for the unacceptable things that guy did to you. He is awaiting your praise eagerly.

Since he knows what it feels like first hand, he feels even closer to you and tells you his stories if you want to hear them. You will heal together, in time. The memories will fade and be replaced with better ones you make together. You support each other in breaking through the self harming behaviour you developed.

Zoro

His initial reaction to your explanations about why you still feel uncomfortable doing certain things is total helplessness. He cannot fathom that someone would ever take the time and effort to systematically destroy their partner. He believes you, but it is so far out of his own experience that it is hard to grasp for him.

It makes him angry, however. Because that dickhead insulted you you feel insecure? What can be broken can be fixed is Zoro's motto, so he will comment positively on everything every time. Even though he is not very creative, his compliments come from the heart, and you feel it.

When he finally meets the guy he is a bit disappointed. That is no worthy opponent. He doesn't honor him with the use of his swords. Zoro will grab him by the collar and throw him off the next cliff. "For what you did to y/n, you coward."

The job is finished, no need to talk about it anymore and forget the bastard ever existed.

Luffy

When you merely tell him about it he will think you got over it just like he doesn't stay angry for long. But when you cry the first time or refuse to do something fun because of him he realises that you are still affected by what happened to you. He will not have it.

When they meet and your shitty ex makes a mean comment? Luffy gets his murder expression and punches that guy to the other side if the city.

You get luffys hat whenever you need emotional support. No questions asked. You get to sit in his favourite spot whenever you want to. You even get the last bite of delicious food if it's what you need.

[i-heart-hxh]

So, I was reading that ask about why Killua pushed Gon away in chapter 231, and the part where you said, 'It’s actually part of a larger pattern we see with Killua’s behavior towards Gon, where he decides to “protect” him by leaving him out of things and not giving him the full context of what’s happening,' really made so much sense to me for other moments between them! Do you think there's a connection to why Killua leaves in the end and doesn't tell Gon the full extent of what had hurt him?

+ in addition to my ask about that chapter (you can paste them together! character limit), I wonder if this behavior plays a role in how short and abrupt the separation was. Maybe it was time to let each other go for a while because Killua still don't know how to deliver the full context of his broken heart to Gon, and Gon knows better than push him to say it as he's still processing what he did and doesn't feel worthy of Killua's presence (Gon has never had a huge self-esteem to begin with)

Hello anon! Thank you for the thought-provoking messages--I love having conversations with people about the specifics of what happened between Gon and Killua because there's just so much to unpack there. Even after all the years I've spent in this fandom I still feel like there's always more to untangle.

Also, anon is referencing this post.

Killua sometimes hides things from Gon to protect him from other people or situations (or, in many cases, how he thinks Gon will react to those people/situations)--but he also hides things from Gon about his own internal thoughts and feelings for a few reasons that all blend into each other.

Most simply, Killua's upbringing actively tried to get him to suppress his feelings. While of course this failed to a certain degree, being raised in an environment where sharing feelings and even having feelings was actively discouraged is not an easy thing to unravel. This makes it exceptionally difficult for him to share his deep feelings and vulnerabilities and directly express his love--aside from in acts of service, which seems to be the only acceptable Zoldyck love language, essentially. He was always appreciated at home for what he did and not who he is, which is why he gets so flustered when Gon compliments him simply for being himself.

As the series goes on, Killua is increasingly fearful (as a result of the situations with Kite and Palm and not winning against Shoot due to the needle) that he'll lose his place at Gon's side or that Gon will confirm that Killua isn't as important to him as Gon is to him, so that makes it difficult for Killua to take any risks as far as how vulnerable he is with Gon. Because so much of his self-esteem hinges on how useful he is to Gon, the thought of being pushed away is terrifying to him. This makes his courage in standing up to Gon when Gon confronted Pitou exceptionally meaningful, and especially when his worst fears play out as a result--Gon does actually push him away, and then tries to throw his own life away as penance for what happened to Kite.

Killua views himself to a certain degree as essentially the shadow to Gon's light. Killua isn't even sure he deserves to be with Gon. He sees himself as someone who has been tainted by his upbringing, by his history of running from difficult opponents, etc. So, he thinks he needs to protect Gon in not just a literal sense but also a metaphorical sense--to make sure Gon doesn't end up like him. He knows Gon isn't "normal" either, but he sees Gon as someone who can lead him out of the darkness into living a more normal life, like he wants. But in order for this dynamic to continue, Killua puts himself in a role where he has to keep Gon from being tainted by the world, and also to a certain degree, from being tainted by himself and what he's been through. Of course, Gon's mental state ends up falling apart regardless with what happens and Killua is forced to confront that Gon isn't a pure being of light, but another traumatized boy who ended up in situations he couldn't handle. Killua feels partly responsible for what happened to Gon as well, because he fled from Kite with Gon, and because he couldn't change Gon's self-destructive course.

I absolutely think these tendencies play into why they have to separate, and why the separation is so brief. I don't think Killua is ready to open up and tell Gon the full extent of how he feels and how much both seeing Gon self-destruct and being pushed away hurt him. Even though Gon survived because of Nanika, Killua essentially watched him commit suicide. Of course he needs time to process that. Plus there are external factors that make the separation necessary (Alluka/Nanika, Illumi pursuing them). This post is important reading on the separation, as it affected my view of what happened between them.

Gon knows he hurt Killua deeply, and like you said I don't think he wants to push Killua into talking more about it after what happened. I'm sure they had some sort of conversation between Gon waking up and their parting that we didn't see, but I doubt it was a conversation where they delved deeply into the issues between them. I think Gon likely apologized, forcefully and wholeheartedly, but not in a way that had a complete enough understanding of what happened/what hurt Killua for it to be what they need.

It always boils down to the two of them loving each other but essentially feeling they don't deserve the other due to their own self-esteem issues.

I also think it was brief out of necessity--they didn't want to leave each other, clearly, so to drag it out risks them not being able to let each other go.

As I've said before, as much as the issues between them are deep, I have a lot of faith that they will end up reuniting and reconciling and having a better relationship in the future. The separation gives them both some space to think about what went wrong and why, and to figure out who they are individually and what kind of relationship they want to have in the future. They both need some time to mature and understand themselves better in order to reach that point.

Thank you for the asks!

[ladyevol]

A very simplified map of what the world where the winners of my AU Celestial Winners live. Everything other than these waters is completely covered in water as far as the eyes can see and a barrier prevents the winners from leaving the area. Each player has free access to build, destroy and essentially do anything expected from survival minecraft within their own islands. Any and all resorts respawn where they were once the winners wake up and the biome of each island resembles that of the place they found themselves in during their life series. Scar lives in the sunflower biome, Grian lives in a desert, Pearl lives in a snow forest, Scott lives in a dark oak forest and Martyn lives on a beach surrounded by colorful corals.

In order for a player to be allowed on an island, they need to be given permission by the island's owner. Right now, the permissions are: Everyone is allowed in Scar's island, only Pearl is allowed in Martyn's, only Scar is allowed in Grian's island, Scar, Martyn and Grian are allowed in Scott's island and only Scar and Martyn are allowed in Pearl's island. A barrier prevents the entrance of unwanted winners.

The island in the middle is the Watcher Island, where the winners train and use to go to other worlds either for visiting or their jobs. Scott and Scar visit other worlds pretty frequently, with Scott only rarely ever even staying on his island. Pearl used to visit a lot when she first arrived, in part to spend time with Scott, but as time passed she began distancing herself from Scott more and more and now she is hostile to him, going so far as to challenge her in combat even outside of the training arena. Martyn spends most of his time on his island or training, but he can be occasionally convinced to visit other worlds if he thinks there is a 'worthy opponent' in there to be fought. Grian has never left the Celestial Winner's world and spends most of his time alone on his island. Scott theorizes it is his own way to punish himself for what happened with his Scar.

[maiko-san]

Pitaya Dragon Cookie x MH! Reader

Note : Basically Reader is a Monster Hunter from the Monster Hunter Universe. Imagine MH exists on Earthbread. The Reader is far more durable than any other cookies since they are a monster hunter.

Pitaya Dragon Cookie is always hungry for a fight, it seems the fight with Hollyberry Cookie wasn't enough to quench this dragon's thirst for battles.

Then, they meet you!

A cookie called as a 'Monster Hunter' that came from a distant land. Clad in dragon armour and wields (w/o/c).

Pitaya Dragon Cookie instantly challenges you into a fight the moment he sets his eyes on your form.

The moment their giant claws hits your body and sends you flying, any cookie would have crumbled by the attack but you stand right back up like you weren't affected by it at all.

This was the moment that Pitaya Dragon Cookie sees you as a worthy opponent.

"Finally! A cookie that doesn't crumble under my claws!" cackled Pitaya Dragon Cookie, their flames burn even hotter than before. "Sshow me what you got, monster hunter!"

The fight would last for hours!

You attack, dodge, block and take all the hits that the dragon has given to you. Pitaya Dragon Cookie could see that you have experience in fighting a dragon.

The way you zip around swiftly and dodging his attacks. Pitaya Dragon Cookies hits you and you hit them back harder. It was to a point that it dented/broke off their scales/spikes!

"Gragh!" one of Pitaya Dragon Cookies horns has been broken off by your special attack. They couldn't help but burst out laughing, "Hahahahaha! Hollyberry Cookie or that Knight Cookie couldn't even do thiss! You are the firsst cookie to land ssssuch damage on thiss Greenisssh Red Dragon!" they said. "I mussst say, you got my ressspect! I like you! You're now my favourite!" they grinned. Pitaya Dragon Cookie feels satisfied ....well for today!

"That's the reason why I am called a 'Monster Hunter'!" you smirked at the dragon. "I broke off dragon horns countless times back at my place!" you grinned. Pitaya Dragon Cookie shifts to his cookie form, you could see that his scaly armours chipped here and there. A part of his helmet has broken off.

Pitaya Dragon could only smirk as their tail swish excitedly, "Sssay~ May this Pitaya Dragon Cookie know your name!" said Pitaya Dragon. "My name is (C/n) Cookie, a hunter apart of the Ecological Research Team!" you said proudly.

"Sssince you have defeated me! I can grant you a wissh. Tell me, (C/n) Cookie, what is your wisssh?" Pitaya Dragon asked. You let out a hum, fighting this legendary greenish red dragon is so much fun and you wish to do research on them. "I wish to do research on you, Pitaya Dragon Cookie!" you told them your wish. "I sseee" hums Pitaya Dragon as they put their hands on their hips, "Alright! You can do your little ressearch on me, little tough cookie!" they said.

"And I want to fight you again! It was fun!" you declared.

Pitaya Dragon couldn't get even more excited than ever, a cookie wishes to fight them again? Oh, bring it on! Their eyes glow brightly as Pitaya Dragon smiles widely, "Oh yesss~ I will accept your requessts any time!" they smirked. "But don't let your guard down, my little hunter. Thisss dragon will attack you at any time they want~".

Well, Pitaya Dragon wasn't lying at all. They would attack the moment you let your guard down. Especially when you're doing research in the Berry Forest, Pitaya Dragon would dive bomb you out of the blue when you were picking up herbs or mining (the ores) your own business.

A vicious fight that slowly turns into a friendly spar. During those times, you and Pitaya Dragon have grown closer. Pitaya Dragon sees you as a friend and a rival!

The dragon was interested in your home land that has all kinds of monsters especially dragons! You've told Pitaya Dragon Cookie that your home land has dragons that are called Elder Dragons. The most dangerous out of all Elders were the black dragon named Fatalis.

"Fataliss huh....I want to fight him!" grinned Pitaya Dragon. "Hahaha! Make sure not to let him melt you or he would use you as his own armour!" you said. Pitaya Dragon blinks, "What do you mean by that?" he questioned. "Fatalis has habits using melted corpse of a cookie as his own armour" you chirped. Pitaya Dragon couldn't help but feel horrified, disturbed and slightly disgusted?

"That'ss jussst....disssturbing...." they said. "Yup!" you agree with them.

Both of you are sitting on a grassy field after a spar. You have noticed that Pitaya Dragon's armour has completely regrown and returns normal but what catches your attention was they were missing the tip of their tail. "Pitaya Dragon Cookie, may I ask you something?" you asked the dragon who let's out a hum.

"What happened to your tail?"

"Huh? Thisss? Hm, I never noticed that it wass chopped off" they said. "Did you chop it off?" they turn to you for answers.

"No, I didn't" you said.

"Huh, weird..."

You sweat drop, "So, you don't remember how you lost it?". Pitaya Dragon shrugs their shoulders, "Yup!" they simply said.

[princessprettyprivilege]

pretty privilege tips?

Pretty Privilege Tips 101

Acknowledging your pretty privilege is simply not acknowledging it. Your pretty privilege is as natural as breathing.

Acknowledge pretty privilege is ALL about your appearance. Only your appearance because that’s what people see first. I call it the Cinderella and evil stepsisters factor. I’m excused more often, tipped, receive better treatment, etc. due to my looks.

Cultivate your pretty privilege efficiently to gain more pretty privileged perks. I could always say “eat healthy & exercise!!” as a blanket statement, but that’s SO easy to say with anonymity and an oxymoron since I have a box of Ritz bits in my lap.

Eat when you can & what you crave in moderation, find a fun exercise regimen and hobby to practice, start enjoying your life.

I found my new method of exercising by gardening since it doesn’t feel like exercise! I dug my first hole in the ground for an apple tree a couple of months ago, and I really enjoyed it, so I dug 3 more.

Appearance-wise, make your own challenges for your face and body such as creating themed shower days such as mango mai tai Mondays, Old Hollywood Wednesdays or New Jeans cookie (I have a speaker for my bath) scrub. For my facial care, I always visualize myself preparing for an event, because I am an event.

You are your own goddess.

Stop acknowledging opinions about pretty privilege that hold no weight to you. “It’s all about pleasing the patriarchy, you’re only a pretty face, men use you and you don’t even know, once you gain weight you’re just like us,” blah, blah, blah.

If you’re in denial about your pretty privilege, suck it up. Far too many people waste their time concerned about what they do and don’t have.

Prepare for the benefits and consequences you may face being pretty.

“A man being rich is like a girl being pretty!”

In contrast to the feminine energy posts you may read, you need to man up and put in your dental guard. It is more difficult being pretty privileged if you equate it to being aligned in your femininity.

Find out your tricks and trades. Are you a walking siren? To find out your natural disposition, you don’t need to search too hard. If you’re having trouble, you could be hiding your true beliefs due to the opinions of other people or denying your disposition since an article or test said it’s “uncommon”.

Your seesaw is on top. In any situation, your benefit is the priority.

Own your pretty. You can feel yourself resisting what you really want to do because of judgment from society. Let the inner woman out!

Flirting should be casual conversation to you, but with your eyes and less words. Many women think flirting with someone they barely like means they share the same attraction with them when I view it as a king of the hill game. Flirt for sport and with yourself!

Flaunt your attractiveness. Being an apex predator is leaving out weaknesses and self-doubt. If I know I’m the most attractive person I’ve seen, everyone else knows I need a worthy opponent to challenge me.

You need to be on top of situations to gauge your options. A realistic proportion I have is for every 2 things that go right, 1 thing can be wrong and so on. You shouldn’t overwork yourself to project perfection since it doesn’t exist.

Actually have fun.

Most people know how to look like they’ve had fun instead of having fun. Fun is when you don’t care what anyone thinks at the moment or looking back.

Peacock. Wear your feathers vividly and without shame. Bitter & jealous people want you to paint your feathers to match theirs. Don’t!

Be Luxury, Live Luxury.

[rdbrainz]

Info and oc related stuff Characters in the following order: Ikkon, Turzo, Zanni (in his Resurrección form, you can find his regular outfit somewhere on here wink-wink), Kenpachi Ryuya, Betsuyaku Taisuke Their stories take place in an au btw

Ikkon "Capitano" Agreda Refused his number Zanpakuto: Tiamtum. Doesn't look like a katana at all, it's a silver brass knuckle knife Resurrección: Orca. However, no special form is obtained when activated Other: h-207cm, w-about 130kg

Ikkon's animal prototype is orca, the most fearsome sea predator. I wanted to give themes to the members of my Arrancar troupe (aside from literally being inspired by theatre, circus, etc.) and settled on self-destructive attitudes and relationships☝🤓 So his theme is anger, resentment and revengefulness. Many in the troupe call him by his nickname, "Capitano", but Ikkon is not a Spaniard who came from far away like his theatrical counterpart, he has no army and in this respect, he resembles Captain Ahab who blindly hunts for his own death with his decisions. Incredibly and sometimes unreasonably vicious and cruel, firmly believing that if the world and its creatures have treated him with nothing but cruelty since his birth, he shouldn't treat the world any differently. He has no sporting interest in violence. Ikkon can have fun in the process - even dance as a mockery - but he is not interested in fair fights purely for the sake of finding a worthy opponent, so he hates when opponents try to initiate small talk during encounters. He would be much more happy if his prey would just shut up and die. Ikkon is dismissive towards everyone around him and keeps them at arm's length even when he seems to like someone, and he is more than happy with his position as a "hired force" since he refused to play a role in the troupe and kinda sticks around to find himself new things to kill time with or, well, kill. He has murdered a great number of Arrancar either for fun or because of some quarrels and dug himself an even deeper grave. Despite actually having some semblance of self-awareness, he always finds someone to blame. Technically, he's just a big, angry kid who's lucky enough to have a huge power advantage over literally all of his kin and who's is so stuck in his own anger, so limited by it that he's unable to change at this point. His views have gotten him nowhere but to an aimless, stupid and painful death, which he'd always predicted for himself, but even then he's managed to do his own thing and took the shinigami who fought him out in the process. "If I go down, you go down with me." He mainly relies on his immense physical strength, size, and good fighting ability, but he also uses Sonído, Cero, Bala, and other delights of the Arrancar form. His personal ability is blowing bubbles filled with compressed spiritual energy hundreds of times stronger than when it's just surrounding him. When they burst at his command, they release it in the form of powerful waves that, depending on the opponent's spiritual energy, can either blow their head off from the pressure or just topple them over. His Resurrección doesn't give him a cool orca-man form but works kinda like a Domain Expansion. The lack of any new physical abilities or a new form when released is paid off by the fact that Ikkon's Reiatsu at a large radius from him is so intense that it creates a pressure similar to that of being submerged deep underwater. It's called Hadal Zone (Ultra Abyssal) because of it. He can easily tinker with this pressure and change it back and forth with various rapidity, so he can give his enemy either a decompression sickness or an instant death from rupture… of pretty much everything… It's up to him, but he's more fond of killing shinigami, humans, and his kin with his own hands rather than standing aside while it's happening.

Ikkon's far more cool and talented in all sorts of things than people give him credit for. He has a very strong singing voice and sometimes sings to himself when he's alone. But nothing more than that. He's not ashamed of his talent, in fact, he takes pride in it but being the object of attention of the troupe is worse than death itself to him, so it's kinda his fault people tend to overlook things abt him. He actually finds most of the members annoying. Especially their voices thanks to his extra sensitive hearing. It gets so bad that if he were to fight shinigami in the world of the living he'd probably bawl his eyes out due to the noise pollution and not be focused enough to do anything. He also lives on the outskirts of the cathedral-like building, where the other Arrancar reside, in a cave of some sort. Not because he's not a part of the whole mess but because he feels safer and calmer in the place he's been living alone in for a couple of hundred years now, even in his hollow form. Named after two musicians - Federico Augusto Ágreda Álvarez (Zardonic) and Niko "Ikon" Lehdontie (Oranssi Pazuzu). Theme songs: Twelve Foot Ninja - Coming For You, Staind - Change, Combichrist - Throat Full of Glass, Seether - Pride, P.O.D. - Listening For The Silence, Найк Борзов - Слышу Тьму. Heavily lyrics-oriented I guess?? Whatever… Tbh he's grown on me over time and the more I think abt him the less I wanna kill him off (and Ryuya too) but for the sake of keeping the story intact, there's an alternative route where he almost dies but doesn't. Maybe I'll write it down later but first I need to tell you about Volto so ehh… We'll see I guess.

[yns-world]

hi❤

what do you think of intros dialogues with kano, erron, baraka, rain, kabal, kollector, who are in love with a reader queen or empress (who has a harem😏)(romantic setting) 😉❤

kisses take care of yourself 💋

a/n: AHHHHHH I LOVE THIS REQUEST SO MUCH I��VE BEEN WANTING TO DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS FOR A WHILE AND YOU GAVE ME THE PERFECT SCENARIO TYSM ANON I LOVE YOU MWAH 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗 this was one of my favorite things i ever wrote 😭😭 i definitely want to do something with this type of reader/scenario in the future <3333 feel free to spam my inbox with requests like this <333

MK Characters x Empress Reader

Characters: Kano, Erron Black, Baraka, Rain, Kabal, and Kollector

Kano: “Are ya lookin’ for an extra bodyguard?”

Y/N: “What do your services entail?”

Kano: “Only the best pleasure for m’lady."

Y/N: “I’ve heard what you’ve been saying about me.”

Kano: A smug smirk forms on his lips. “Does it excite ya?”

Y/N: “And if it did?”

Kano: “Then it means I have a chance with the Empress herself.”

Y/N: “You’re smug for a lowly cretin.”

Kano: “But that’s exactly how you like them.” He winks.

Y/N: “I like them on their knees.”

Kano: “Say less, Your Majesty.”

Y/N: “What brings you to my palace, Erron Black?”

Erron: “To keep it short, you.”

Y/N: “I’m not looking for any more bodyguards.”

Erron: "I want to be more than just a shield, miss."

Erron: “From what I can tell, you ain’t never had a taste of Texas before.”

Y/N: “I’m not familiar with American cuisine.”

Erron: “Then allow me to introduce you.”

Erron: “I hear you’re into worship and sacrifices.”

Y/N: “You heard correctly.”

Erron: He throws down a brown sack and out rolls the head of your nemesis. 

Y/N: “I underestimated your loyalty, Black.”

Baraka: “A queen needs a king by her side.”

Y/N: “Who needs a singular man when I could have many?”

Baraka: “I’m not good with sharing.”

Y/N: “Then you better get used to it, and get used to it quickly.”

Y/N: “Your tribe would make a magnificent army.”

Baraka: “Whatever the Empress wishes, she shall have.”

Y/N: “Keep that up and you’ll get a place within my ranks.”

Baraka: “I only wish for a place in your heart.”

Y/N: “How far would you go for my love?”

Baraka: “As far as you need me to go, Empress.”

Y/N: “Your first trial starts now.”

Rain: He lowers his dagger and offers a head bow. “It’s been too long since I’ve seen pure royalty.”

Y/N: “And it’s been too long since I’ve seen a demigod.”

Rain: “A god, nonetheless.”

Rain: “I’m impressed, Your Majesty. An Empress holds the crown and owns a harem.”

Y/N: “Is it so unbelievable?”

Rain: “I like power in a woman.”

Rain: “How do you select your consorts?”

Y/N: “Only the best are able to worship me.”

Rain: “Surely you have room for a god?”

Y/N: “Does Kano know you’re here?”

Kabal: “I don’t answer to him anymore.”

Y/N: “Then who do you answer to?”

Kabal: “You.”

Kabal: “You’re everything Kano is not.”

Y/N: “Elaborate, dear.”

Kabal: “For one, you’re a goddess, Your Highness.”

Kabal: He sags his swords. “It pains me to have to fight you like this.”

Y/N: “Prove you’re a worthy opponent and we can take this fight to the bedroom.”

Kabal: He raises his swords back up again. “You don’t need to tell me twice.”

Kollector: “Your kollection of consorts is admirable, Your Highness.”

Y/N: “And so is your kollection of assorted jewels.”

Kollector: He holds out diamonds, pearls, and jewelry in each of his hands. “All for you, Your Grace.”

Kollector: He gets on his knees and holds up a handful of blood rubies towards Y/N. “The finest blood rubies the realms have to offer.”

Y/N: She picks up a perfectly cut ruby and brings it up to the light. The rays of light broke into small shards as it reflected off the crimson jewel. “They bleed well.”

Kollector: “They bleed from my heart.”

Kollector: “These hands do more than steal, My Lady.”

Y/N: “Oh?” She smirks. “Care to demonstrate?”

Kollector: He smirks as he throws his swords aside. "As you wish."

if you enjoyed this, then please reblog because it helps me more than likes do :) thank you so much <333

i loved this request so much, thank you so much to the lovely anon that sent this you are literally my favorite anon and this has been my favorite request i've done 😭😭😭

if y'all have any similar requests like these, PLEASE spam my inbox cause i LOOOOVEEEE these type of requests <333

as always, check my pinned posts for request rules!! take care of yourselves and i'll catch y'all in the next post <333

(i luv rain so much i want to make some fluff hcs for him 💔💔💔)

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I heard of a summer event with stitch! And mc in octavinelle is yuuta who work in ramen shop. So in savannaclaw, did everyone knows yuuka's a girl?

Yes, I know! I like to keep up with TWST news. You can find posts about the Stitch event and the Episode of Octavinelle manga on my blog; feel free to join in the discussion!

There’s been no indication (so far) in the Episode of Savanaclaw which would tell us that others think of Yuuka as male or female. Personally, I think it’s likely that everyone knows she’s a girl and just rolls with it + treats her like a normal person in spite of that because Yuuka has no real reason to hide her sex from everyone. (Plus, I don’t think it’s entirely realistic to have large swathes of the NRC population treat her drastically differently just because she’s a girl.)

It just serves no narrative purpose and doesn’t add to anything. In fact, I would argue it would actually subtract from the overall narrative since everyone being aware of Yuuka being a girl and her still standing up to Leona creates an interesting dynamic. It goes the same way for Leona; he wouldn’t underestimate Yuuka just because she’s a woman, he’d treat her like an equal and a worthy opponent. This is especially true when we consider that Leona specifically comes from a culture where women are strong and respected; if Leona didn’t realize Yuuka was a woman this whole time (like, if he learned she was a woman post-getting his ass kicked), then we’re deprived of this bit of nuance and complexity in their developing relationship as Yuu and OB boy.

P.S. Ironically, Yuuka is the most bishounen looking of all the manga!Yuus so far 😂