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#it can work. however she also just did that because of her powers
dangermousie · 3 days
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Because I am a glutton for punishment, I skipped from ep 4 all the way to ep 36 and the break up.
I really really REALLY love that scene so much because it is so in character and shows how much work Xiao Yao and Tushan Jing both have to do to get to lasting happiness.
I remember at the time it aired, I saw people understandably lose their marbles going "did she just dump her boyfriend for being sexually assaulted?!" and I get where they were coming from, but this isn't really how it read to me. The situation is designed to hit at her issues.
The novel makes it clearer than the drama does than the aphrodisiac is something one can fight through the effects of with strong enough determination but it's not really that. After all, whether it was unfightable or barely fightable, even by the story as presented by creepy fam, man got sexually assaulted with the assistance of his family (literally, granny, fiancee, and brother all teamed up - that was about the only bodily autonomy that hasn't been taken from him at that point!) by any definition and there is no blame to be placed on him. Of course it wasn't right to dump him for what happened to him but also of course it makes sense with all her issues.
The thing is, Xiao Yao means it when she says she doesn't hate him. It's not that she wrongly views sexual assault as cheating (well, sort of, but it ties to her other issues about which more below.) It's that her standards are so impossible (about which more later) and her desire to fight for him is nonexistent - oh she will fight in terms of healing him or protecting him or w/e, but she will not wade into emotional messes. Ultimately, regardless of how it came to be, he now has a woman pregnant with his child (it looks like) that he can't put aside and a family that is dead set against XY. That is vvvvv messy. And he can't fight against all of that by himself but she won't wade into the muck. It was huge enough she was willing to wait for him to disentangle his family mess but that was passive waiting doing nothing. Actively getting into a Jerry Springer situation? No way.
And that is where her standards come in. She wants someone impossibly perfect. I don't mean in body - Jing is cut up and sewn up more than a sample dress pattern and she finds him physically desirable as hell. She wants someone impossibly perfect in fitting to her needs and standards and tests. If you think, the bulk of their relationship in s1 is her setting a series of tests (some consciously and some not) and he has to keep passing one after the other for the relationship to continue. And this is a test he fails for her - yes it may be expecting an insanely high standard to have him overcome the powerful aphrodisiac given him by a trusted family member to boot so he didn't expect it but she wants perfect, however impossible, or nothing. If the score is not 100, she's gonna return it back to the store.
And that's the thing - Tushan Jing rebuilt himself around her - he tailored himself to her to a crazy degree. But yet it's still not enough ultimately because no actual human being can live up to her standard; sooner or later something was going to break. Nobody can be perfect all the time in everything. Everyone who wants to be in some form of relationship needs to figure out what they will tolerate and what they won't. XY is within her rights to decide she won't tolerate giving her heart to someone who is not 100% perfect to whatever she wants BUT the outcome becomes that then she cannot have a loving romantic relationship with anyone, since people are not robots.
The interesting thing is her standards for him are the highest out of anyone in her circle - Cang Xuan fed her hands to worms and Xiang Liu is a gorgeous disaster. And it's fine for her. I think because CX she slotted as family so the issue isn't what he does but what he is (brother) and with XL they aren't in any relationship where there are any expectations.
But with Jing, she admitted to herself she loves him and there is no backstop of him being blood - so she is terrified, and the more she loves him and the more she trusts him, the more terrified she is about being hurt and so the more she loves him, the higher her standards become and the more skittish she becomes.
It's a mess. It is, as I said, not sustainable in long term - we see he spends so much of the season terrified she'll ditch and she spends so much of it skittish. A relationship with such an emotional power imbalance is doomed.
The thing that I love about post breakup is that she gets a salutary shock. She clearly thought she could cut and run - she could break up with him and move on cleanly. And then she finds out she can't. She still loves him, she still misses him, she still grieves him.
And that is so necessary - her reaction to any kind of trouble is to cut and run and it's so ingrained and so a self-protective instinct that she NEEDS to have the running not work, not protect her, so as to realize not just how important Jing is to her, but that it's worth to forgive humanity, to fight for him in messy situations, to deal with complications - because that is the only way she can be happy, that escape doesn't solve things. She needs to realize that abandoning doesn't work, that he's important enough to her life to stick around and fight for him.
And of course Jing needs to realize that kindness is great and retiring is great and all that but bad people will NOT leave you alone, will not leave those you love alone, so you need to fight.
It's an interesting and telling gender reversal.
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lordkingsmith · 2 days
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Still working on the fan power rangers show lol. It’s in its like. Seventh rewrite.
Max, the nonbinary hybrid orange ranger is, lovingly, my problem baby and I can’t decide what species mix they are. To be honest there’s too many gorgeous costume monster species designs and just one Max.
I have come up with a plausible reason for why rangers are letting the monster kids do the current rangerdom, and also have more fleshed out line up for the baddies.
The Z-Wave didn’t happen until Rito showed up again, so a lot of deaths and general plot has been a bit recontextualized and remixed. Rita decided she’d had enough of the villainy life and left siblings Thrax and Selena with Rito without a word-faked her own death. At the time she did this, Thrax was seven and Selena was three. Rito wants revenge but he’s mainly letting Selena and Thrax handle it while he does what he wants. Turn the moon into an amusement park. Because it’s fun and hey everyone loves fun right? And take care of the rangers he’s mind controlling because after the z-wave he’s more motivated by protecting “his kids” than actual revenge. Will throw down with Rita if needed, however.
Thrax has skin and so does Selena. Nobody looks flayed alive. Both of them greatly resemble Rita. Thrax is the one responsible for the giant version of their monsters, and as Val’s the one that often volunteers, this has led to teasing by Selena. Selena’s a lot like a spunky, smarter version of Rito. Thrax is more serious. Selena being the one who likes looking human most is often the one going down to earth to spy and cause trouble. Sometimes with Rito. Thrax prefers endless sulking and staying in more monstrous form, which is similar to Rito’s form. Keeps his opinions to himself, but is generally disgusted he got left behind while both parents decided to abandon him and Selena. Selena is also pissed but she holds out hope there’s a reason their mother abandoned them. Also more protective of her older brother. And her uncle. Is not afraid to kill. Nobody’s finding the bodies of those who hurt her family.
JJ when he was undercover had a fling with a woman in Skorpina’s gang, had a baby with her and they were briefly married and divorced…who came back as Quaxo. Think of this as the messiest custody battle in history. JJ, when he finds out, is…Not Pleased. Rito, Thrax and Selena don’t know who Quaxo really is and she’d rather keep it that way. Her son, however, does and has not been happy with the situation since. Flirts with Rito, though Rito has enough sense to recognize this is wholly because he’s the most powerful member of the group and generally acts extra ditzy to get her to leave him alone. As hyper as ever, as bone headed as ever, but this time he’s also a bit angry and the anger acts as just enough of a grounder to keep him somewhat dangerous. He does genuinely like the rangers, all of them, and much of his tension with his team and the human rangers is mutual misunderstanding based. Quaxo hasn’t quite understood this yet, and thinks it’s a game he’s playing. It’s not. Rito’s just Like That.
Billy’s Clone was located and brought back to life, and is making this everyone’s problem. He’s the one who made Rito’s Rangers their new morphers and he’s the one lowkey trying to get the other four killed by “accident” so he can take their power for himself. Guy goes by William. He’s responsible for Tommy, Jason, Trini and Udonna’s deaths but passed it off to everyone as accidents. Only person onto him is the new recruit, Valentine
Valentine “Val” Draven was directly affected by Z-Wave, losing his parents and aunt and uncle to it. He and his cousin Iva were spared by being in another dimension for a birthday party and while Iva’s fairly certain they wouldn’t have been destroyed or turned human anyway…Val’s less certain. He’s angry but he doesn’t know at who. He wants revenge but Zordon’s dead and Rito’s not a bad guy. Val’s also got the fact the color Fuchsia chose Iva, who happened to be in the room at the time, over him, who’d been asked to do this. He joins Rito because Rito makes sense. And the second he heard about Quaxo and William….well. He’s not a bad person. Not really. Someone’s got to make sure Rito’s Rangers are protected, and he’s not sure if Rito Thrax or Selena really understand how to keep the superpowered group safe. Plus, he might be a vampire but he’s got a sweet tooth. And he was promised unlimited cotton candy. Also a little bit sweet on Thrax but..who’s counting, really?
-
@augment-techs @skyland2703 @pinkrangerv
Just because I think you’d be interested lol, but yea it’s coming. Slowly. Working on first episode’s script, I shall keep you updated if you’d like :)
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1tsjusty0u · 3 months
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oh my god imcgoing to have to entirely change zeldas struggle in this
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just-aake · 2 months
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Detecting Love
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Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Summary: A person with the power to detect lies meets the spy who has been trained to lie her entire life.
Warnings: fluff, light angst
Words: 6169
You have the power to detect lies. 
Now, it’s not exactly strong enough to be a hero, but you can honestly say that it has been useful in your life. 
Sure, it gets annoying at times, but one of the many lessons you’ve learned is to ignore minor instances of dishonesty — white lies or small things like that — since it helps reduce unnecessary confusion or chaos with others.
People lie. That is an undeniable fact of life.
And while one may believe that being able to detect such things is great, the truth is there are times when you find yourself resenting your power. 
Because, of course, everyone experiences moments when they wish that someone important to them isn't lying.
Like when your fiancée tells you she loves you.
There wasn’t really a malicious reason behind why a usually affectionate statement suddenly became so hurtful.
There was no cheating.
There was no fighting.
It was just another one of the many lessons you’ve learned in life.
That sometimes…a truth can also become a lie.
It’s just unfortunate that this lesson happened to you in such a way.
These kinds of moments make you wonder if maybe it’s better that people shouldn’t always know when someone is lying to them.
Then they don’t end up alone, drinking at a bar late into the night, trying to numb the pain of a broken heart.
You let out a heavy sigh as you stare at the pair of rings resting on the bar top, remembering the conversation that ended with one of them being returned to you. 
It was a heart-wrenching discussion where your fiancée confessed her steadily changed feelings for you, leading to the resolution to remain friends. 
And while neither of you is completely at fault for why things ended, you can’t help but blame your stupid power for putting you in the situation in the first place. 
You sigh heavily once more before swiftly downing the glass the bartender had set in front of you.
At least your current attempt to drown your sorrow is going well, judging by how the rings start to blur in your vision.
With a sad sigh, you reach for the rings to put them away, but in your clumsy state, one slips from your grasp and tumbles to the floor.
Just as you move to retrieve it, a hand beats you to it. 
Looking up, you find a red-haired stranger standing before you, offering the ring to you with a charming smile.
She looks familiar but the drunken haze in your brain makes it hard for you to remember where you’ve seen her before.
“Here, you dropped this,” she says, her voice low and smooth.
She’s beautiful and her voice sounds perfect. You think to yourself as you take the ring from her.
She chuckles lightly, “Thanks.”
Oh, did you say that out loud? You must be more drunk than you thought.
The woman offers her hand to you in greeting, and with a confident smirk, she introduces herself.
“My name’s Natalie. Natalie Rushman.”
Immediately, a red aura surrounds her, causing you to roll your eyes and return your attention back to the bar. 
“Liar,” you mutter tiredly as you gesture to the bartender to close your tab, not really in the mood to deal with any more lies tonight.
At the corner of your eyes, you see the stranger give you a slightly impressed look.
Ready to leave, you stand up quickly from your seat.
However, the action makes the room suddenly spin in your vision, causing you to stagger backward. 
A hand steadies you, resting gently on your back, and you unconsciously lean back against her surprisingly strong frame for support.
There’s a soft chuckle near your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Let me try again,” she whispers smoothly, guiding you upright and turning you around to face her.
Offering her hand once more, she reintroduces herself.
“My name’s Natasha Romanoff. I’m here to recruit you to work for the Avengers.”
You blink slowly, trying to comprehend her words through your drunken haze. You wonder if the alcohol is affecting you more than you thought when no red aura appears this time at her words.
Chuckling to yourself, you shake your head in disbelief, unfortunately worsening the pounding in your skull. 
Work for the Avengers? That has to be a lie.
Before you can think about it any further, you feel yourself falling once more, unable to remain upright.
Strong arms catch you, and as your consciousness fades, you see a blurry glimpse of her striking green eyes before succumbing to darkness.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
You wake to the pounding in your head and the bright sunlight streaming through your window. Turning away, you groan into your pillow, remembering that your fiancée – your ex-fiancée – would typically close the curtains before leaving for work.
Now that she’s gone, you’re going to have to adjust to living alone once again.
A cup being placed on the nightstand startles you into sitting up, as you turn in surprise to find the beautiful red-haired stranger beside your bed.
“For your headache,” she explains, placing some medicine next to the cup.
Your mouth hangs open as you struggle to remember the events of last night, some of which are honestly a blur. 
You examine yourself, checking your clothes and finding them unchanged from the previous night, and then you scan your surroundings again and realize in relief that nothing was out of place.
Well, except for the presence of this stranger in your home, who’s patiently waiting for you to gather yourself.
Searching through your drunken memories, you think you vaguely remember meeting her last night. She had mentioned her name was — Nata…? 
“Natalie?” you ask with uncertainty.
At her raised brow, you quickly apologize, feeling bad for not remembering correctly.
“I’m sorry, I can’t seem to remember, but did we…did something happen between us last night?” you ask hesitantly.
Her face twists in genuine sadness and disappointment, causing a panic to run through you as you struggle to recall what could’ve possibly happened between the two of you for her to have such an expression.
“I’m hurt,” she finally says, placing a hand on her chest, “And after you even said that it was the best night of your life.”
Seeing the familiar red aura appear around her at her words, you let out a brief sigh of relief before realization sets in, and you give her a hard glare.
“You’re lying.”
Her hurt expression quickly morphs into an impressed look, and you are slightly startled at how effortlessly she was able to shift her emotions. 
The woman straightens her posture and crosses her arms, adopting a commanding stance that seems more likely her typical demeanor.
“So it’s not just luck,” she remarks, studying you curiously. 
At her words, you quickly rise from your bed in confusion.
However, the action causes you to wince in pain at the pounding in your head. 
Shutting your eyes tightly, you hold your head in comfort and lean lightly on the nightstand for support. 
As you do, your hand brushes against yesterday’s newspaper that you had been reading moments before your ex said those fateful three words that led to the heartbreaking conversation between the two of you. 
When the pain subsides, you slowly open your eyes, catching a glimpse of the front page before doing a double take.
The front features an article about the opening of the new Avenger Compound, including a photo capturing the Avenger members posed in front of the completed building. 
What catches you off guard is the uncanny resemblance between one of the Avengers in the picture and the woman standing before you.
Pointing at her in disbelief, you stammer.
“You’re…,” then, gesturing at the newspaper, you continue, “…her?”
She doesn’t respond to your question but instead nods toward your other room, inviting you to follow.
“Let’s talk,” she says, heading toward your door, then gestures at the medicine on your nightstand. “But drink those first.”
After freshening up in your bathroom, you take a moment to stare at your reflection in the mirror, noticing the remnants of last night’s tears in your slightly puffy, red eyes. 
Sighing, you brush away the depressing thoughts of your failed relationship before taking the medicine and exiting your room.
You are greeted by the sight of your unexpected guest comfortably seated at your kitchen counter, flipping through a magazine with casual disinterest.
“You’re Black Widow,” you say confidently this time, positioning yourself on the opposite side of her.
She closes the magazine with a snap, placing it on the table before clasping her hands atop of it and meeting your gaze.
“It’s actually Natasha,” she corrects you, before nodding at you. “And you’re Y/n L/n.”
“How did you…?”
She holds up a wedding invitation draft, displaying you and your fiancée’s names printed in fine lettering. 
Realizing that she must have been snooping around your things, you give her a disapproving glare, snatching the card from her hand and hastily stuffing it into a drawer.
Feeling a mixture of emotions—irritated, sad, hungover—you turn to the fridge, deciding to make breakfast to give yourself some focus. 
After you retrieve the eggs and other ingredients, you heat the stove before glancing at Natasha briefly, asking, “So, what does an Avenger want from me?”
Out of the corner of your eye, you see her resting her head against her hand, watching you with interest.
“I told you yesterday,” she replies.
You roll your eyes, giving her a deadpan look, knowing she’s aware that you don’t remember.
“Remind me again.”
Natasha gives you an amused smirk, straightening up in her seat. 
“Alright, I’m here to recruit you, more specifically for a sort of managerial position at the new Avenger Compound.”
Furrowing your brows, you question, “Why me? I don't have experience with that sort of thing.”
“But you can tell when someone is lying, can’t you?”
Pausing briefly in your cooking, you contemplate her words and its possible implications. Not many people know about your ability, and you don’t think you did anything to reveal it to the spy who’s currently staring expectantly at you.
So, in response, you shrug, replying as casually as possible. 
“I guess you could say I’m good at reading people…psychology degree and all.”
A silence ensues, broken only by the sizzling of your cooking, until Natasha finally nods, seemingly accepting your explanation.
You breathe a silent sigh of relief, returning your attention to your current task.
But then she pulls out a folder filled with documents and places it on the counter, causing your nerves to rise again.
“Well, you’ve helped solve hundreds of cases with your interviews of the suspects,” she remarks casually, flipping through the folder before glancing up at you through her lashes. 
“100% accuracy rate in the information that you provided to the detectives,” she continues, nodding at you in acknowledgment. “For a part-time profiler, that’s impressive.”
“Thanks,” you respond with a polite smile, but beneath the surface, a hint of suspicion creeps in as you begin plating the meal you made.
Natasha closes the folder with a definitive snap, making you look at her. 
“You could say it’s almost impossible,” she muses, before a confident smirk forms on her face, and she tilts her head at you with a raised brow in challenge. 
“Unless there’s some way you can guarantee that they’re telling the truth.”
Honestly, you should’ve known better than to think that the experienced spy hadn’t already completed thorough research and investigations into you and your powers before meeting with you.
If anything, this was likely just a test for her to confirm what she already knows about your abilities.
Sliding a plate across the counter to Natasha with a pointed glare, you relent, deciding there’s no point in denying it anymore.
“Fine, what do you know?” 
Instead of responding, Natasha’s gaze lingers on the plate before her, a hint of confusion in her expression. 
Her plate holds a fluffy omelette accompanied by a side of crispy bacon and a slice of golden-brown toasted bread.
As she glances back up at you with a questioning look in her eyes, you take a seat across from her, setting down a similar plate in front of you before also placing a stack of fluffy pancakes at the center.
“What’s this?” she asks, gesturing to the meal.
“Breakfast,” you reply bluntly, taking a bite from your plate.
Natasha raises a brow at you, remarking plainly, “It’s noon.”
“Brunch then,” you correct with a roll of your eyes.
Natasha's lips quirk up in amusement, and she shakes her head.
“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten.” 
The red aura appears around her, and with your mouth full of food, you give her a pointed glare.
“Right,” Natasha says in realization, remembering what you can do. She pulls the plate closer to her with a soft thanks. 
The atmosphere that followed was unusual but surprisingly not awkward. Despite being practically strangers, you find yourself slightly comforted by Natasha’s presence. 
If she wasn’t here, you probably wouldn’t have dragged yourself out of bed today after what happened yesterday.
After a moment of eating, Natasha breaks the silence.
“So, how can you tell when someone’s lying?”
Pausing to contemplate your answer, you wipe your mouth with a napkin before responding. 
“Well, when someone lies, there’s always this rush of chemicals that happens in their bodies,” you explain. “It ends up causing the typical indicators — things like fidgeting, sweating, or tone changes in their voice.”
“I didn’t do any of that, yet you still knew I was lying,” Natasha points out.
“No, you're right,” you admit, nodding. “You’re a perfect liar.”
From what you have seen so far, every expression and comment of hers appears genuine and honest, and if it was anyone else, they’d probably believe anything she says.
However, thanks to your ability, you know better. 
Gesturing at her, you clarify, “You still give off the same chemical reactions though, and I have the ability to see that.”
Natasha leans back in her seat, crossing her arms as she processes your explanation.
“It’s mainly visual then,” she concludes before asking curiously. “You don’t even need to hear what they said to know that they’re lying?” 
You nod, ruefully adding, “Yep, my world’s just filled with people glowing red at random.”
“And how long does this ‘glow’ stay around them?”
“Depends,” you reply with a shrug. “Usually not long, maybe a few seconds.”
Natasha hums in interest, tapping her chin, her brows pinching lightly in thought.
You can’t help but smile amusedly at the sight. 
For a person who has such an intimidating reputation, the spy in front of you right now looks kind of cute rather than scary.
After a moment, you break the silence this time.
“So, what’s the job?” 
Natasha’s eyes focus back on you at your question.
“Nothing too complicated,” she assures. “You’ll be in charge of interviewing the new employee candidates and conducting continuous reviews of the current ones.”
“You mean like screening them?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion, already aware of the rigorous and difficult process required to work at the Avengers buildings. 
“Don’t you guys already do extensive background checks before hiring people? Why do you suddenly need me?”
At your question, a charming smile appears on her face, effortlessly shifting her expression like before, though now you understand she’s just hiding her true feelings about the situation.
“That’s confidential.”
You scoff in disbelief and cross your arms.
“You do know that just makes it harder to trust you, right?”
Natasha mirrors your posture, her pretty grin still in place, masking any other emotions.
“Fair point,” she admits. “But to be honest, you should never put your trust in people like me anyway.”
“People like you?” 
“Spies,” Natasha clarifies as she begins to gather her empty plate and utensils. “Which is one of the types of people you’d be looking out for in this position. Their deception skills would be on a similar level to mine.”
You chuckle at that, causing Natasha to pause in her actions, raising a brow at you in question.
“Sorry, but everyone lies, whether you’re a spy or not,” you tell her, standing and taking the empty plate from her with a small smirk. “You’re just slightly better at it.”
A tiny offended look slips through Natasha’s expression at your little jab, her brow furrowing for a brief second.
Your grin widens at the sight of seeing a glimpse of her real self as you turn to place the dirty dishes in the sink.
Natasha quickly regains her composure, moving around the counter to lean back against the table next to you.
“In any case, the decision is still yours. I’ve already confirmed your abilities. It’s up to you to decide if you want to accept.”
At her words, you pause to consider your options. 
A new job working with the Avengers is a great opportunity, but it would be a significant change in your life. 
Then again, you’re already facing a huge change.
Your eyes unconsciously drift to the drawer next to where Natasha is leaning, where the wedding invitation draft remains, and your face twists in sadness at the memory. 
You guess it wouldn’t hurt to add a career change alongside your new relationship status.
At least this way you can still earn a salary while also distracting yourself from the depressing thoughts of your failed engagement. 
“Okay,” you decide, meeting Natasha’s gaze with a sigh, “I’ll take the job.”
“Great, I knew you would be agreeable,” Natasha remarks, extending her hand to you.
A red aura appears around her, causing you to huff and roll your eyes.
You take her hand in yours, giving her a tiny glare.
“Liar.”
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
“I don’t remember agreeing to this.”
You say that as you dodge another swing from Natasha, ducking under her arm to get behind her, only for her to twist her body around and deliver a kick that you narrowly block with your arms. 
Still, the impact has you stumbling back.
“Really?” Natasha asks with an innocent tone as she circles you. “I thought I mentioned to you that training was a part of your employment.”
A red aura begins to appear around her, but you don’t have time to comment before she swings her leg at you again. 
You catch it against your side with a small grunt of pain.
Having been a profiler for criminal cases before, you do have basic defense training, and you always believed that you could hold your own against most aggressors. 
At least you used to.
This current fight is making you reconsider your skills.
With her off-balance position, you attempt to throw her to the ground, but Natasha swiftly regains her footing, catching herself on her hands and executing a fluid movement to flip upright. She then bends low, sweeping your legs out from under you.
You land on the mat with a groan, feeling the impact reverberate through your body. Another pained breath escapes you as Natasha expertly pins you down.
You catch the faint red aura fading from her before throwing your head back against the mat with an exhausted sigh.
“You’re such a liar,” you breathe out, your voice tinged with both exhaustion and playful accusation. Closing your eyes, you take a moment to catch your breath.
Natasha's laughter fills the air, resonating above you, her amusement infectious and drawing a small grin from you. You peek open your eyes, watching as she disengages from atop you and heads over to her water bottle at the side.
“I’m a spy. It comes with the job,” she says casually, taking a sip.
“Okay, and I’m basically just HR,” you counter, pulling yourself upright into a sitting position. “So how does combat training fit into that?”
Natasha gestures towards you with a sweep of her hand.
“You need to be prepared to defend yourself if you ever expose someone dangerous and find yourself without backup,” she explains.
“That’s unlikely considering I haven’t even encountered anyone suspicious since I started,” you remark with a sigh.
It's been a month already, and you're starting to question if your presence here is even necessary.
Before you can dwell further on your thoughts, the cold touch of a metal water bottle against your cheek startles you.
Recoiling, you look up to see Natasha holding it out to you.
Raising a brow, Natasha waves the bottle lightly in offer.
You snatch the bottle from her with a tiny glare, but she only smirks in response.
Apart from the new job, the other surprising addition to your life is your budding friendship with the Avenger. 
After the whole recruiting ordeal, you honestly expected to only have passing encounters with her at the compound.
However, to your surprise, on your first day here, Natasha was the one who volunteered to give you a tour of the place, and in the days that followed, the two of you would often share coffee and chat before you had to head off to your respective jobs.
Those regular interactions with her also earned you a fearsome reputation among the other workers, which actually works out in your favor since they’re already nervous by the time you call them in for a review. This way they are more likely to slip up and reveal anything they may be hiding.
But, like you said, you haven’t found anything substantial yet.
With a heavy sigh, you pull your knees to your chest, resting your forehead against them, feeling the weight of failure bearing down on you.
Then you hear Natasha plop down beside you.
“Back when we met, you asked me why we needed you,” she begins.
Curious at her words, you turn your head slightly to glance at her, waiting for her explanation.
Natasha leans back on her hands, her gaze fixed on the ceiling as she continues to speak.
“A couple of months ago, our surveillance revealed that someone within the compound staff was plotting an attack during the opening ceremony of the new building. However, we couldn’t confirm who it was without risking exposing that we knew of their plan."
Your eyes widen in confusion at the revelation. From what you remember, the opening ceremony was a success. There hadn’t been any news of an attack that day.
“But you caught them, right?” you inquire.
“No,” Natasha responds, shaking her head before meeting your gaze. “You did.”
Surprised, you straighten up, giving her a questioning look.
Natasha offers a small smile, elaborating, “You had recently interviewed him as a suspect for another case, and in your notes, you labeled him as dangerous and untrustworthy, despite everything about him proving otherwise.”
“And you believed me?” you ask incredulously.
Natasha shrugs, “Well, I had no other leads at the time anyway.”
You scoff in exasperation at her teasing, playfully pushing her away.
She chuckles softly before adopting a more serious expression.
“Trust in your abilities, Y/n,” Natasha says with a genuine tone. “If it’s you, not finding anyone suspicious is a good thing.”
You watch her closely, waiting for the red aura to appear.
But as a couple of seconds pass and nothing changes, you tuck your forehead back against your knees, this time to hide the smile threatening to spread across your face.
“Alright, break’s over,” Natasha announces, giving your back an encouraging pat. “Let’s go again.”
You groan in reluctance, remaining in your curled-up position.
“Come on,” Natasha urges, her tone coaxing. “I’ll go easy on you this time.”
You don’t even need to look up to know the red aura is surrounding her.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
“What’s this?”
Natasha's voice draws your attention away from the task of pouring cooked popcorn into a bowl.
She's sitting on your sofa, examining a small, elegant card that you had accidentally left on the table.
Widening your eyes in realization of what she’s found, you hurry over to her, but her narrowed eyes tell you that she has already read the names on the card.
“She’s inviting you to her wedding?” Natasha exclaims, disbelief coloring her tone. “It’s only been a year since your breakup, and now she’s already getting married?!”
Sighing in disappointment, you had hoped to keep this information from Natasha, who developed a strong dislike for your ex after you shared the details of your breakup during one of your girls' nights.
Placing the bowl of popcorn on the table, you take the invitation from her hand and head to the kitchen, intending to tuck it away in a drawer. 
As you slide it open, you catch the sight of the old wedding draft buried at the bottom, which causes a tiny pang of sadness in your chest at the memory of that time, of how everything changed so suddenly.
You can't help but wonder how your life might have unfolded if your engagement hadn't ended.
Would you still have accepted Natasha's offer if you hadn't been seeking a distraction from your failed relationship? 
“You’re not thinking about going, are you?” Natasha's voice interrupts your thoughts. 
Glancing up, you notice a peculiar look in her eyes, though it quickly shifts to a neutral expression at your gaze.
After a whole year of spending time together, you could tell underneath her impassive expression that she was upset about something; though, you figured it was just outrage at the situation.
Tossing the invitation into the drawer and shutting it, you offer her a small reassuring smile before returning to your seat beside her to start the movie.
“No, of course not,” you tell her.
As the opening scenes play, you maintain a normal, nonchalant expression, aware of Natasha's gaze still lingering on you even as the red aura fades from around your body.
After a while, Natasha huffs in disbelief before finally settling into the sofa, pulling the bowl of popcorn into her lap.
“You better be sharing that, Romanoff,” you tease, your eyes fixed on the screen.
Natasha scoffs before tossing a piece of popcorn at you.
“Of course, I will.”
Just as you're about to turn your head to look at her and confirm her honesty, she swiftly shoves a cushion pillow to the side of your face, blocking your view.
After a few seconds, she releases it, fluffing the cushion casually before leaning her head against your shoulder and tossing another piece of popcorn into her mouth.
You chuckle at her antics, amused by her playful behavior, before returning your attention to the screen.
A few days later, you find yourself standing on the outskirts of the wedding area, observing as servers and workers hustle to complete the finishing touches.
A sad, bittersweet expression tugs at your lips as you recognize familiar details chosen by your ex, mingled with hints of a stranger’s preferences in the decorations.
To be honest, you don’t intend to stay for the wedding. You're just here to confirm something for yourself.
Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes, conjuring your ex’s face in your mind, and whisper to yourself. 
“I’m in love with her…”
Opening your eyes, you exhale slowly, a content smile on your lips as you notice the red aura surrounding your skin. It's a relief to be able to find closure regarding your feelings for your ex.
“You know, I don’t need powers to know you were lying,” a voice remarks from behind.
Startled, you turn to find Natasha approaching.
She stops beside you, her gaze fixed at the scene ahead as she accuses, “Saying that you weren’t going to come here.”
You look at her briefly before returning your attention to the field.
“I got curious about something,” you admit. “Figured that this was one way to confirm it.”
Excited and happy chatter fills the air as your ex appears, surrounded by friends and family.
Suddenly, thoughts of what-ifs from the other night resurface, prompting you to ask out loud unconsciously before you can stop yourself.
“Do you think I should’ve just pretended that she was telling the truth at that time — when she said she loved me?” you ask Natasha. “Maybe it might’ve worked out between us if I just kept my mouth shut.”
There’s a beat of silence before Natasha finally responds, her tone tinged with wistfulness.
“From my experience,” she begins, “I can tell you that living a lie would not make you happy…no matter how much you wish for it to be true.”
You chuckle lightly, “You’re probably right.”
“Of course I am,” Natasha says confidently.
A comfortable silence falls between you as you both observe the preparations from a distance.
“She is a fool for letting you go, though,” Natasha suddenly adds, her tone casual.
You laugh softly, gently chiding her, “You can’t call the bride that on her wedding day.”
“Alright then,” Natasha concedes, turning to you. “You’re an even bigger fool for coming here by yourself.”
She returns her gaze to the field, muttering under her breath with a hint of irritation, “…still visiting the one who broke your heart.”
Amused, you tilt your head to catch her eyes, chuckling at her words, as you tease, “You know, it almost sounds like you’re jealous.”
When Natasha doesn’t respond or look at you, you raise a brow in surprise and poke her side. 
“Wait, seriously, are you jealous?”
She swats your hand away.
“Stop that,” Natasha reprimands, before gritting out, “I’m not jealous!”
A small grin forms on your face as you notice the red aura appear, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and walk away.
“I’m leaving,” she declares firmly.
“Aww, come on, Natasha,” you call as you trail behind her.
Glancing back at you and seeing your pleased expression, she points at you in warning.
“That smile better be off your face by the time I pull up, or else you’re walking home,” she states before continuing on her way.
Watching her go with a fond smile, you find yourself softly repeating the words.
“I’m in love with her.”
Looking down, your smile widens when you don’t see the red aura appear, confirming what you already knew about your feelings for the red-haired spy.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
As you sit in your office at the Avenger compound, you feel a sense of fatigue wash over you at your busy schedule of back-to-back interviews.
Across from you, the final candidate squirms in her seat, clearly nervous under your scrutinizing gaze. 
A chill sweeps through the room, courtesy of the cold blast of air from the AC, and you can't help but regret your decision to have it set so cold, a choice originally intended to maintain an intimidating atmosphere during interviews. 
With a sigh, you reluctantly pull your hands from the cozy warmth of your hoodie pocket and turn to the next page of questions.
"Let's talk about handling confidential information," you begin, your voice cutting through the tension in the room. "Can you share a time when you had to ensure the secure handling of sensitive data?"
The candidate responds with some slight hesitation, but you sense it’s more from her nerves than any dishonesty, so you continue, moving on to the remaining questions.
Luckily, the rest of the interview goes by quickly and smoothly with her answering the other questions without any problems.
However, now comes the final question of the interview.
“Among the Avengers, who do you consider to be the hottest?”
Clearly caught off-guard, she stumbles over her words, “W-what?” 
Maintaining your serious demeanor, you repeat the question.
“Who do you believe is the hottest Avenger?”
After a moment's pause, she softly answers, “Black Widow..."
Setting your clipboard down, you extend your hand.
"Thank you for coming. It was nice meeting you," you say, signaling the end of the interview.
As she thanks you and leaves, you flip to the last paper on your clipboard, revealing a sheet with tick marks beside the names of your Avenger friends.
With an amused smile, you add another mark at the end of Natasha’s already leading line.
“I don’t think that last question was approved by Steve,” a voice accuses from the doorway.
Glancing up, you see Natasha leaning against the frame, her arms folded.
You shrug in response, “Makes it more interesting though.”
Natasha hums curiously before moving to your side, perching on the edge of your desk. Her narrowed eyes fix on you.
“Is that my hoodie?” she asks in suspicion as she tugs at your sleeve.
“Maybe,” you reply, hastily pulling the hood over your head to conceal your guilty eyes.
Natasha had left the piece of clothing at your place after her last visit, and given the chilly room, borrowing it seemed harmless enough.
“Don’t you have a briefing to get to?” you deflect, attempting to change the subject.
Natasha huffs knowingly before responding, "I had some spare time, so I came to bother you."
"I’m honored," you quip sarcastically, though inwardly your heart warmed at the fact that she thought of you.
Natasha chuckles lightly, then gestures towards your clipboard.
"Ask me some questions," she prompts, her tone playful yet eager.
Deciding to indulge her, you reach for your clipboard and adopt a serious demeanor.
“Name?” you begin.
Natasha shoots you a deadpan look, prompting you to show her the document with the question written on it.
“If they lie about their name, then that’s a red flag already,” you defend, giving her a pointed look.
“Natalie,” you mock.
Natasha chuckles, shaking her head at the memory before extending her hand.
“It’s actually Natasha,” she corrects, playing along.
Skipping past the other general questions, you delve into more targeted inquiries related to threat assessment.
“Have you ever been associated with any extremist or radical groups or organizations?” you ask.
“If you consider working undercover to gain intel on them, then yes,” Natasha responds without hesitation.
“Have you ever participated or been involved in any violent behavior where someone was hurt?”
This one makes her pause for a moment before she finally admits softly, "…yes."
As the questioning continues, Natasha's playful demeanor gradually fades, replaced by a rueful tone.
By the time you reach the final question, she places her hand on your clipboard, gently setting it down on the desk.
"Maybe these questions aren’t meant for people like me," she says sadly, her tone filled with regret.
Observing her disappointed expression, you scoot closer and rest your hand on hers to draw her attention.
“Do you still want to hear my final assessment?” you ask gently.
After a contemplative pause, Natasha nods, curiosity evident in her eyes as she gestures for you to continue.
“Well, based on your answers,” you say with a dramatic pause, flipping through the papers before shaking your head firmly.
“Absolutely not. Extremely dangerous. Definitely a high-risk candidate.”
Natasha huffs in disbelief at your teasing and gives you a playful push. As your laughter subsides, you soften your tone, meeting her gaze sincerely.
“But…I’d trust you,” you admit genuinely.
Natasha's eyes widen slightly before she averts her gaze, clearing her throat. Her fingers toy with the clipboard, flipping to the last page and seeing the score sheet, before chuckling in amusement.
Turning back to you, she tilts her head with a raised brow.
“I don’t get the special question?” she asks.
You take the clipboard from her, offering a knowing look as you begin to organize the documents on your desk.
“I think we both already know your answer to that question,” you reply.
“Then ask me another,” Natasha insists.
Her request makes you pause as you ponder what to ask. Only one thing comes to mind, the question you’ve been hesitating to ask her for a long time.
Meeting her expectant gaze, you find yourself wanting to know the answer, despite the fear in your mind at the possibility of causing another big change in your life again.
Summoning your courage, you face her directly.
“Would you…,” you start, faltering momentarily before gathering yourself with a deep breath.
“...would you say ‘yes’ if I asked you out on a date tonight?”
There's a moment of silence, and just as you consider retracting the question, Natasha reaches out and adjusts the hood atop your head.
Perplexed by her action, you watch her suspiciously. Then, in one swift motion, she pulls the hood down over your eyes, obscuring your vision.
“No,” her voice responds to your question.
Hearing her stand, you quickly remove the hood to see Natasha already making her way out of the door, but before she disappears from your view, you catch the red aura surrounding her slowly fading away.
As an excited smile spreads across your face at the revelation of her true answer, your phone on the desk pings with a new message. Glancing at the screen, you see a text from Natasha.
I’ll pick you up tonight. 
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
Part 2
a/n: Thank you for reading! I know I said I was going to take a little break, but I had some time so I ended up finishing this and decided to post it now instead of later.
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luvvyouforever · 5 months
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matchmaker, matchmaker - azriel x reader
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↳ mor drags azriel to velaris's resident matchmaker, only for him to fall for her instead of his potential suitors.
↳ no major warnings apply! just some fluff and cuteness. not grammar or spell checked. sorry hehe
↳ requests are open! check bio.
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azriel and mor sat at a cafe table in the heart of velaris, steam rising from the tea cups in front of each of them. this was not an uncommon occurence by any means and the pair frequented the many shops and restaurants throughout the town. however, this time, there was an air of tension between them which caused their waitress to carefully place their drinks away from the edges of the table.
"you're telling me you won't even consider seeing her? do you know all that she's done for velaris, az?"
"she's just high fae, mor. she's not some prophecy teller that can see mating bonds between people. i don't understand what she could even do for me."
ah, yes. the topic of conversation was azriel's love life and mor was desperately trying to convince the spymaster to see her friend, the matchmaker of velaris.
what azriel was saying was true. she did not have some special power that allowed her to see the invisible string connecting mates. she could not look into her mind and pull out the best partner for someone. she just knew how to read people and how to do it well. she was responsible for a lot of the matches in velaris, even predicting nesta and cassian long before anyone else could.
"you're lonely, azriel. i can tell! you want to dance with someone at rita's and have a date to parties just as bad as anyone else. you just won't admit it," mor declared. her voice softened and she continued, "i want what's best for you, az. we all do. will you see her for me? please? even if nothing works out."
azriel sighed and took a drink of his tea which was still too hot for his mouth. damn mor and her awareness of the people in her life. and damn him for the way he'd give in to her so easily. "fine," he mumbled. "i will try. but no promises."
that next week, azriel came back from a trip to the mortal lands and immediately, mor was at the door to his room, badgering him about the meeting she set up for later that day. she declared that he could not reschedule or miss the meeting and that he should dress in something nice.
begrudgingly, azriel took a long bath to make sure he looked and smelled fine enough to get a potentially good match from mor's friend. he chose more "normal" clothing as instructed by mor and flew down to the bright townhouse fast enough to reach the door just as his appointment was set to begin.
she surely sensed him because before he even got the chance to knock, she threw the door open and greeted him.
"azriel, right? spymaster of the high lord's court," she said sweetly. "i am quite honored to have you in my home."
azriel felt too awkward for his own good and just nodded with as polite of a smile as he could muster.
"come on! come on!" she ushered him into her home which was brightly decorated in all sorts of eclectic decor, a lot of it being hearts and other love motifs. "can i get you anything?" she asked. "water? tea? snacks? wine?"
"no...no. i'm good, thanks," he said, quieter than he meant to. his eyes raked over the matchmaker, finding her to be a lot younger and more spry than he imagined. mor spoke so highly of her that he thought she must be ancient, having made matches for velaris since the dawn of time. she was also quite beautiful and the way she spoke caused some odd feelings in azriel's chest that he didn't like. his shadows noticed his attraction to her too as they whipped around his chest before hiding behind him, sometimes whispering things in his ear.
"suit yourself," she joked. she sat down on a large armchair and gestured to the matching one in front of her. azriel obediently sat down and watched her moves. she pulled out a frilly notebook from a drawer along with a pen. "has mor told you anything about what i do?"
"not really," azriel admitted. "just praises your name and forces her friends to come to her." the matchmaker laughed and azriel felt incredibly proud of himself for making her laugh.
"well, i just want to know a couple things about you. nothing crazy. just your inner thoughts and desires. and i take that information and compare it to other people and see what comes from it! simple, easy, and usually pain free but i have a feeling you may be a little more introverted than most." azriel shrugged in response. "so, my first question is what are your must-haves in a relationship?"
azriel fiddled with the hem of his shirt as he thought about the question. nobody had ever asked him that before and he honestly hadn't even thought about it. "um...someone who's nice. understanding, i guess. i have a lot of responsibilities in my job so someone who doesn't mind that i'm gone a lot," he thought for a second more. "what do people usually say?"
the matchmaker thought for a moment. "well, i would say my must-haves are patience, kindness...someone who's fine with staying inside," she paused and smiled, "definitely has to own some kind of awesome ancient sword or blade that i can play with."
azriel clocked her statement as a joke but some part of him, deep down inside, wishes that he had truth-teller displayed on his chest for her to see. he was patient, he was a homebody, he was...relatively kind. oh god...what was he thinking?
"all jokes, of course. but really, it's just anything you want in a partner. maybe you want them to be strong and abrasive and can hold their own. it's all up to you, azriel."
she moved on to the next question, which he was very grateful for. this one, however, was harder than the last. "what are you looking for here? do you want me to hunt down your potential mate? do you want something fun and casual? committed? i can do it all."
azriel felt like she was stripping back his layers, one by painful one. all to find someone he can kiss. this was crazy! and he didn't even know her name. "i don't really know, honestly. i...i guess my mate but that seems hard considering it could be anyone. i don't really desire anything. mor just made me come here."
she leaned forward and her big eyes seemed to look into his heart. "i know that's not true, azriel. everyone wants something. you have this...look in your eye that tells me you really want this to work out, that you want to believe in this. you just have to be open with me, 'kay?"
azriel let out a breathy chuckle. "how can i open when i don't even know your name or anything else about you?"
she thought for a second before nodding in agreement. she laid the notebook down on the side table and leaned back. "fair, i guess. my name is y/n, i have lived in velaris all my life, i enjoy pastries, reading, and tea, i started matchmaking as a silly way to keep my friends and i entertained until it started working too much to be a coincidence. i spend all my time finding love for other people but haven't found the one for me. ironic, isn't it?" she smiled at azriel. "there. does that make you feel a bit better?" he nodded. "good. now, let me repeat my question."
azriel and y/n continued their conversation, knocking out the questions she had prepared with relative ease. he felt comfortable opening up to her and being honest about his desires for love. he was completely unused to expressing his feelings like that but it came to him easily in her presence. the way she easily leaned in, eyes focused and gaze unwavering...it did something to him.
eventually, though, the questions ended and azriel knew he had to leave her home. he stalled on the last question, having her reword it over and over even though all she had asked was what his habits at home were like.
"well, azriel, thank you for answering all my questions. from here, i will start comparing your answers to other people i've met with and i will reach out to you with your first match up. you'll tell me if you're interested and if you aren't, we'll move on to the next!"
azriel panicked internally at her words which clearly signaled the end of their conversation. he rose at the same time as her but subconsciously placed his body in front of hers so that she'd have to step around him to leave the room. "so, do i come see you again at all? or...or is this it?" he cursed himself for sounding so awkward.
she laughed. "you can if that is what you prefer. if you want to talk about your dates and how they went then i don't care to. did you enjoy this a little more than you anticipated?" she joked.
he nodded and scratched the back of his neck. crap...crap, crap! he had to do something, right? she was single, she said so. but is it wrong to ask the matchmaker on a date? after she poured so much work into finding him a match? he thought for a second, eyes trained on her. in his ears, his shadows whispered encouragingly. this is it...come on!
"is everything okay, azriel?" she asked innocently.
"so i know that this whole thing was to find me a match but i actually really enjoy your time and i think you're beautiful so would you want to go on a date with me instead of sending me on dates with people that i couldn't care less about?" his words came out at lightning speed and he was pleasantly surprised that she understood everything.
a blush came to her cheeks and it matched the pink and red hearts around the room. "seriously?" she asked. he shyly nodded. "i'd love to. tomorrow night? you come by?"
he breathed out a sigh of relief. "yes, tomorrow night. thank you."
the two of them made their way to the door.
"so, no matches at all? not even helga down the street in the butcher shop? she's been looking for someone for yearssss," she said in a sing-song voice.
"cauldron, no. i want you." he was shocked at the confidence that leaked through his words. she blushed again and rose on her toes to press a soft kiss to his cheek.
"i'll see you tomorrow. tell mor that my services worked, if you'd be so kind." azriel flew off then with no intentions of telling mor anything that happened.
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melodic-haze · 16 days
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Personally how touched starved do you think Arlecchino and Furina are? Like one has been alone for 500 years and the other killed her best friend and probably doesn’t think she deserves love.
☆ — DEMO TRACK: Arlecchino x Reader, Furina x Reader
☆ — TYPE: SFW
☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A
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Oh I think they'd be VERY fucking touch starved, except the two are like. On two different sides of the scale
On one end, you've got Furina. On the other end, you've got Arlecchino. What they're on a scale of? How "vocal" they would be in terms of it
Furina would be on the VERY vocal side, and by that I mean she WILL monologue to you about how she needs your touch or else she will PERISH from a lack of you-contact
Furina puts the back of her hand on her forehead, "My beloved wants to leave me be! Oh, you torture me..."
"Babe, I'm literally only going to get a glass of water."
"You forget my domain over the element!" She moves to throw herself onto you, wrapping her arms around your neck and causing you to laugh as you caught her, "I can satisfy your needs easily!"
"At that rate I'll be better off taking a shower!"
"It gets the job done!"
But she's not vocal for no reason :((( 500 years spent in self-isolation in order to save her people takes a HUGE toll on you so the moment Furina had realised that she doesn't have to do the whole song and dance all over again, she just can't help the want—the need—to basically be attached to you
It's not just because she wants to make up for lost time after FINALLY being able to do so, but also because she's scared that one day it'll all just go poof and disappear in a distant dream. She doesn't speak of her troubles until either she decides it herself that she should or one of the members of her Salon Solitaire (Crabaletta lol) decides to conk her for it
Sometimes she'll ask if she's being a pain in the ass bc she IS aware that she's constantly wanting for you to at LEAST be near her which. If you say she is then I need to sit you down personally and slap you in NOT a fun way
Meanwhile, Arlecchino on the other hand, is VERY quiet about it. She won't say anything, nevermind doing anything. She'd restrict herself from clinging onto you as much as she'd like to
You were a vision to her, a lovely sight to see and a lovely voice to hear as you recounted your day's events. Even when you did something so mundane, something that isn't necessarily something special, Arlecchino still looked at you with such adoration.
She almost didn't notice her hand inching closer towards yours from her warm daze.
Almost.
Before she could draw it back unnoticed, however, you turned your head at just the right (or wrong) time.
"Arlecchino? Is there.. something wrong?"
..She shakes her head instead of admitting her desires, "No, my apologies, darling. I was rather captivated by your tale. Do tell me more about your friend's predicament."
And so you do, but you couldn't help but notice the longing look in her eyes.
It takes a while before she starts warming up to the idea of letting herself actually do SOMETHING. And that'll take a lot of time, patience and encouragement from her❗️❗️❗️ But trust when I say it's worth it bc she practically treats you with so much more affection and devotion than the literal archon she serves HAHA
She doesn't thinks she deserves to show physical affection, to touch you, to truly worship you and your body in every way she can—not when she has the power to hurt you, not when she's killed off the person she had cherished the most all those years ago :(
You gotta reassure her that everything's okay and that you won't disappear bc once you've done that? She's SO TOUCHY she will NOT go through the day without havign some form of contact with you
She won't do it as much in work though she has a reputation she wants to keep lmao
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ugotcooneycrossed · 5 months
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dont forget to kiss me • ella toone
ella only gets her nails done at one place, its her favourite place- and its totally not because the girl she goes to is fit
a/n: lil blurb for tooney- also i got my nails done once and am traumatised cause i did not think a power tool was involved??? no one cared to warn me 😔
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if you asked ella why she only frequents one nail salon- she'd tell you its cause she trust the place, and its convenient- she only has to drive an extra 15 minutes in the opposite direction of her house. and plus, its an added bonus that theres this one colour that she really loves there, its got comfortable chair- and well, its got you- not that she'd ever admit that last part.
you always greet her with a huge smile that makes her feel like her heart is about to leap out of her chest and kiss you right then and there.
and when she came back from the euros you grinned at her and called her superstar.
-
"back again? you were just here two days ago!"
you smile at ella when you see her walk through the door- still in her training gear.
"yep! mazza broke my nail when she jumped on my back, so i came right here- its an emergency you see! -fraid i'll die soon if you dont fix it!"
"well i cant have one of englands best die on me- come on then."
she sits down across from you, and you reach across to grab her hand gently- holding it softly while you get to work on the broken nail.
conversation is easy between you- she asks about your day, and you ask about hers. and you have to hold her hand tighter when her laugh makes her whole body shake.
"all right- all done now, you're free to go, hope i saved you in time!"
ella looks down frowning, and your smile faulters- your hand ghosting over hers.
"you alright there ells?"
her head shoots up and nods frantically.
"do you think i could actually take them all off and get a new set done? you can say no but i was actually thinking about it and maybe i should get a new one but then again i-"
"ella! you sure you want a whole new set? it'll take a bit."
"yep definitely- i can stay here for however long with you- i mean for however long it takes!"
"you know you can just ask me out right? like id say yes. you dont have to get a whole new set done just to talk to me."
"how'd you know?"
you laugh at her shocked face- squeezing her hand gently.
"nobody comes here as often as you do ella- like nobdy in the world frequents nail salons as much as you do im pretty sure."
"hey! its close by.."
"well- you going to ask me out, or not?"
-
"when you said yours was close by i was thinking it was actually close by. this is not close ella."
"not my fault! this pretty girl works at your one ya know."
"oh yeah- do i know this pretty girl?"
"hmm you might."
"thats funny- theres this cute customer i like, that comes in quite a bit, shame if she didnt like me."
"i think she does."
ella parks the car- turning to you.
neither of you make a move- until you speak softly.
"i think you should kiss that pretty girl."
"yeah?"
you nod.
she leans over the console connecting your lips- they're much softer then you imagined- and you only open your eyes when you feel the car move slightly.
"i think you shifted into reverse on accident."
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russellsppttemplates · 6 months
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It's like we won't even be there (Lewis Hamilton)
Mercedes has three power couples
Note: english is not my first language. After a long time, I'm finally posting this request.
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: mentions gender inequality, misogynistic ideals
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
"Everyone on social media has an inkling that you're bringing someone to the race. Is it your belle, Mr. Hamilton?", you teased your boyfriend as he got ready for bed.
You had arrived in Abu Dhabi a few hours earlier, caught a cab to the hotel where your boyfriend had been resting before media day.
"Is that so?", he wondered, "I haven't told anyone outside the team. And even them, I told them you would be joining as my guest, only a few people actually know about us", he assured.
"I don't mind it, we'll have to be public at some time. Three years dating outside of the public eye, plus another year of what the kids call soft launching, whatever happens this weekend, happens", you tranquilized him.
This had been an ongoing conversation for you for as long as you've dated. His lifestyle came with many implications, particularly not always being home and public eye. You also spent a lot of time focused on your job, building the company now associated to your name to the people in the finance business, so the latter question was the biggest one. While you were successful, it hardly impacted your life when it came to the public eye or social media. You had your accounts, sure, but they were private and they never got in the way of your job.
"I just don't want people to lash out on you", he replied, sitting next to you on the bed, his fingers tracing shapes in your hand, "I've seen how brutal they can be, I've felt how brutal they can be, and I don't want that for you. They'll gossip because that's how things work, but I don't want them breaking the respect line.", Lewis stated.
"Lew, I understand and appreciate your concern, but I'll be fine. I have you, our families, our friends, I'm going to be just fine. I don't know how they'll react, so I'll work with whatever happens", you smiled, snuggling into him as he caressed your face.
.
"Good morning, Y/N! How have you been? I haven't seen you in so long!", Carmen said as she hugged you once you arrived in the hospitality, Lewis kissing your cheek briefly before he headed for his meeting.
"Hello, gorgeous girl! I've been good, and you?", you greeted her with a kiss on each cheek after saying goodbye to Lewis.
"Same old, busy but managed to come and support G this weekend. You, however, seem to finally let it out", she smirked, walking with you to the coffee station and serving yourselves, sitting in the balcony as you overlooked the track.
"There's no point in keeping it a secret, I guess. We did it for a while, and this past year we both realised that we want to be able to go out and not be worried someone will see us and whatever consequences it could bring. We're adults who hope other adults will behave like such", you smiled.
"A hard thing to do sometimes, for them at least", you heard a female voice coming closer to you, "I don't believe we've met before, but Toto said you were hanging out here", the blonde woman said.
Suzie Wolff had been someone you looked up to since you were little, so this was a proper fangirl moment, "sit, sit! This is Y/N!", Carmen introduced after giving her a brief introduction.
"I keep missing you whenever you join us for the races!", she said, "the pandemic didn't help, and lately I've been so busy with the F1 Academy that I've hardly been to races myself", she reasoned, beginning the start of a conversation that was only interrupted for lunchtime.
"Press usually have a field day with powerful women related to this sport. You should be able to get away with it because you don't work for racing, but they love going on and on about how we got to where we are because of who we date", Suzie shook her head.
"Absolutely, because George is very interested in Family Offices and he got me my job", Carmen rolled her eyes, "you try and give that guy math stuff and you see how it turns out! Besides, not many people actually knew who he was, they're not very into motorsport, only a couple of them!", she teased.
"Agreed! The only way I was able to have my own company was because I name dropped Lewis, who I didn't know at the time. He doesn't know his numbers all that well. It's so easy for them to point fingers, but it's really just because they hate to see a powerful woman get the job done", you offered, seeing your partners arrive to the table along Laura.
"Social media is going crazy about you, Y/N!", Laura, one of the team's social media managers said while you had lunch, "there's people who spent the whole morning trying to find out who you were and they were faling to find your accounts. Apparently, they were looking in model agencies and such until someone pointed out you studied at the same university as them, and it's pointed them in the right direction I'd say?", she shrugged her shoulders, showing you her phone as she scrolled through media, "they're still trying to find out more, but they only have a few articles from your company and a picture of you when you graduated that is on the university's Wall of Fame!", she made you giggle, fondly looking at the wall of pictures you saw everyday on your way to lectures.
"Are you on the Wall of Fame and didn't tell us, Y/N?", Carmen exclaimed at the new information, "it's barely anything, I'm still there probably because someone forgot to remove the picture", you blushed, suddenly feeling like the table's attention was on you.
"Why would they take out the picture of the most beautiful woman with the most achievements?", Lewis charmed, holding your hand in his as he smiled.
.
"Are you guys ready for the race? If all goes well, we can get back to the points!", Suzie cheered as she handed you and Carmen your bottles of water.
"Lew has been beating himself up a lot lately, hopefully everything works in their favour", you held your hands together after setting the water bottle on the counter.
It was very touch and go, but the boys ended up with good results given the position they started in.
"Congrats, my love!", you said in Lewis' ear as he squeezed your torso over the barrier, delighting the sight of everyone who was watching and seeing the happy couple, "couldn't have done it without you, gorgeous girl", he yelled back, stealing a kiss before running to the mechanics.
"I'm just going to check where Suzie is and then we can go for dinner, guys", Toto stated, squeezing George's and Lewis' shoulders before checking is phone to see if his wife had seen the text he sent about said dinner.
"The F1 Academy paddock is closed, you can see it from here that nobody is there", George pointed out as his boss frowned.
"I would help you, but I have to go and look for Carmen, too", George scratched his cheek as they walked along the corridor, seeing Lewis open his driver's room door and slumping his shoulders slightly, "Y/N is not here either".
"Where have the Mercedes missus gone...?", Toto muttered.
It didn't take then long to hear the mix of your three giggles coming from the lounging area, the three of you sat in the smaller sofas around a coffee table, hot drinks in your hands as you discussed something avidly but in a relaxing way still.
"Are the three of you willing to have dinner with the three of us? We'll still let you speak between yourselves, okay? It's like we won't even be there!", Toto joked.
524 notes · View notes
yndrgrl · 3 months
Note
yandere! dabi x fem reader?
you're a fool to think that you could trick japan's no. 1 mafia boss, yandere! dabi , & get away with it
long ass fic. crime lord x spy. quirkless! au. heavily tatted! dabi lmaooo. extra dark romance. fem! reader. ooc! dabi. picture "diet mountain dew" playing, thanks. manz is OBSESSED obsessed.
warnings: nsfw, depictions of extreme/hardcore sex, sex slavery, obsessive behavior, making "movies," mentions of heavy stalking & panty stealing, sex in front of his men, sadism, reader passes out, light knifeplay,
a/n: uhhh is this too much (i hope not cuz i have a couple more hardcore ones cooking) 😭 also look, i'm finally doing the requests that are long overdue... my fault, g.
-
"boss, she's here," one of dabi's goons said after he knocked on the large, mahogany door. there was shuffling, laughter, then a muffled "send her in," that followed.
"you heard the man," the other shrugged, opening the door for you. after you, they followed into the room.
your heart was pounding out of your chest & there was a violent ringing in your ear. your breathes were shallow & shaken, yet you had to maintain a calm composure because, in the eyes of japan's most notorious criminal mastermind, you were merely a recruiter for his mob. you're playing the part as a low-life thug/seductress who's in desperate need of money.
of course, that's not the case. you had a good head on your shoulders. you were working for japan's government, a special operation unit ran by a sergeant dubbed "endeavor." your mission is to gather information, find out their next big drug trade, & bust it while keeping your head down. & honestly, it's been going well. you were prepared to fight off dabi's goons left & right because, well... you're a woman, & they are horny, egotistical assholes.
however, none of them approached you. all of them looked scared of you, actually. you felt like a badass, but it was also compromising your mission. how in god's name are you supposed to collect intel of no one will talk with you?
"(y/n), baby, please have a seat," said dabi, snapping you out of your thoughts. you didn't know if you should smile or stay stoic, but your nerves got the better of you & your lips curled upwards.
"yes, sir," you said back. you allowed yourself to notice him, his features. he wore a suit, presumably to look professional even though it just made him look intimidating. with his jet black hair, bags under his piercing blue eyes, & pale skin littered with ink, he had an aura around him, & there's no wonder why or how he's gotten so powerful. his tattoos that were visible to you were mainly on his face & on his hands; there was a bold line stretching ear to ear, dipping in the crevasse of his mouth. it made him look like he had a smile. under the bold line were more intricate tattoos-- flowers, thorns, knives, the works.
"please, call me whatever your heart desires, princess," he purred, & the doors of his lavish office slammed shut. there was no reception in this part of his headquarters, you've already checked. you tried reasoning with your worries, telling yourself that there was no way you've been caught, you haven't even talked to anyone!
you replied, "i am anything but a princess, sir."
"sticking with sir?" he questioned, & you nodded, then he continued, "you can be anything you want to be, no?"
"in the perfect world, i guess i could," you said with furrowed brows. why were you in here exactly?
"no, no, no. that's not what i mean."
"my apologies, what did you mean?" you asked, fighting yourself not to fidget. fidgeting means that your nervous, being nervous means you've done something you're not supposed to, & you haven't dont anything wrong.
"i mean, you," he pointed at you, dragging the word longer than he had to, "you. can be anything you want." he was met with a calculating silence. the hairs on the back of your neck stood tall.
finally, you questioned, "why am i here, sir? i'm just a... you know, a concubine." that was your role.
"oh, are you now? what exactly are you doing for my company?" he leaned forward, his face resting in the palm of his hand. he looked bored, yet there was a twinkle in his eyes that said otherwise. it finally sunk in what kind of position you are in. there are two men guarding the only exit, there are three armed men standing behind dabi, & the infamous crime lord himself was sitting across from you, only a desk length away.
"i'm sending men your way so you can grow you um.. company," you told him, & that was the story you're sticking with.
dabi, with a smirk, muttered under his breath with a laugh, "you're fuckin' priceless, doll." with a clear voice this time, he asked, "has anyone touched you?"
what kind of question is that? "yes, sir." no, no one has, you were lying.
he still had a smirk on his face, his bright blue eyes drilling into yours. he fished something in his pocket, his eyes still glued on you. in your head, you kept screaming it was a gun or a knife, he was going to shoot you point blank, you're about to die-
"why do you look so scared, hun?" taunted dabi, finally throwing his hand out of his pocket, & you flinched. this is it, he's about to kill you with a... lighter? wait. he snapped his fingers with the hand that his face was resting on. one of his henchmen quickly handed him something. lighting it, he sneered, "it's just a cigarette~"
he inhaled deep, & blew out a puff a of grey smoke your direction. "you're so jumpy, babe."
"i'm just confused why i'm here is all," you swallowed, your eyes watering slightly because of the smoke.
"i'm considering you for a promotion," he said in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone.
"a promotion?"
"yeah, you could call it that. instead of being some recruiter-prostitute, how does 'dabi's little housewife slut' sound instead? nice ring to it, huh?" he said, breathing in the tobacco & studying your expression.
"i-i'm sorry?" you coughed out, shocked.
"you can be anything, can't you? that's your whole job, am i wrong?" he questioned, eyes darkening. his playful demeanor was gone, & something more sinister glossed over his expression.
"i'm not sure what you mean-" you were cut off by his fist slamming down on his desk, the things on it vibrating & falling off.
"(y/n), do you think i'm stupid?"
"n-no, of course not, sir!" you tried to reason, maybe he was upset about something else.
"do you think i'm fuckin' stupid?" the man scowled, standing up to his feet. his henchmen gripped their weapons tighter, their backs just a bit more straighter. oh, he knew.
"i don't think you're stupid, sir. you're a smart man, i know that-"
"though your flattery gets me hard, it's unwanted right now, doll," dabi told you as he walked towards you while you were just sitting there, your hands on your lap. you picked the dirt from under your nails, the balls of your feet grinding the vintage rug underneath you. your eyes were trained on him in fear that, if you looked away, he'd pounce.
under your breath, you repeated unsure, "hard?" you didn't mean to say anything, it just slipped out. suddenly, as he was standing directly on your side, he gripped the arms of your chair & forced it to turn. he caged you between him & the chair, him bent down so his face was only inches away from you. you could smell the smoke on his breath, his expensive cologne, & faint iron smell-- whether it was blood or gunpowder, you didn't want to find out.
"you're so bold, spying on me~ i didn't think you'd actually accept the job, yet here you are, thinking you are just so clever, huh?" he laughed in your face, but his tone was still deep.
"y-you know?" you stuttered out, eyes wide. he was so close to you, he was a killer with no remorse, that's what they told you before you took this mission. you've heard it all before, & you've taken guys like him down, but they've never caught on to you. you had no plan, all you could do is hope that your crew knew your location.
"of course i know, (y/n)~ i know so much about you, & i must say, i'm such a fan," he started, looking at you up and down. you weren't cowering away from him, but you also weren't confident. you were going to try something, he knew it. "i'm honored to be your next big case. it's such a shame you won't be completing your mission though."
you swallowed thickly, & you gave him your best don't-fuck-with-me glare you could muster. "what now then? you caught me, you gonna kill me now?" you barked, hoping to intimidate him. instead, you were met with a bone chilling smile.
he chuckled, brushing his fingers through his wild hair, "oh no, sweetheart, i'm afraid you don't understand~" you started to search for something under your skirt-your gun- when he tightly gripped your wrist. "don't," he warned as he matched your glare.
the firm grasp you had on your gun loosened & it fell on the floor. he kicked it towards one of his men, who swiftly unloaded the mag & tossed it in the trash. "if it's information you want, you're not getting it outta me."
"wrong again, you get one more chance."
"would you stop fucking with me!?" you screamed at him, ready to oppose anything he wanted you to do. he gripped your chin, his fingers squishing your cheeks together, & your hands shot up & held his wrist as you tried to wriggle out.
"watch your mouth when you talk to me," he warned, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. "such a dirty mouth. if you were anyone else, i would've shot you instantly. consider yourself lucky."
"shtawp! le'me go!" you muttered through your puckered up lips, & surprisingly, he listened. once he let you go, you through yourself back into the chair to create as much distance as possible (it wasn't much). "wh-what are you going on about, dabi?"
"i thought i was, 'sir,' doll? what happened? we friends now?" he teased. the man gave you a fake pout & an eye roll.
"you wish. now answer me. what are you t-" he locked eyes with you once again, & you stumbled over your words, "t-talking about?"
he let out a dark chuckle, kneeling in front of you so his face was nearly resting on your lap. "princess, haven't you notice something weird has been happening ever since you took down shigiraki almost a year ago? don't you always feel like you're never alone? things appear in your car out of nowhere? your panties go missing from your apartment? haven't you ever wondered why you always feel so uneasy no matter where you are?"
your expression shifted from confused to terrified.
"you think you're all alone when you're scrubbing those perfect tits in the shower, huh? you really put on a show f'me when you masterbate. so fuckin' nasty, you know. i would love to know who's on your mind when you fingerfuck yourself," he said, licking his lips. his suit pants were tight enough that it was hard to miss the growing bulge. your eyes were teary out of embarrassment. "but i think i know who's on your mind when you do such dirty things."
"y-you don't know anything. m-my crew will be here soon o-once they realize i-i've been caught!" you fought, yet he had no care in the world. he through open your legs & tsked. you were told to wear a short skirt to "make it more believable," & now you're regretting everything. you tried to press your hands in between your thighs to block your clothed pussy out of his curious gaze.
"do you think so? cuz i think that they've completely forgetten about you 'cuz someone gave endeavor an anonymous tip on where my next drug deal will be held. i think that's more important than some captured spy, to be honest," he told you, "besides -men, hold her down- i have a feeling you actually really want this."
his goons, as they were told, held your wrists to the arms of the chair while another stood behind you, his gun looming just barely in the line of your vision. your legs were spread, & your arms were restrained. you thrashed as dabi's hot touch trailed up your calf to your inner thigh. your face was red hot in anger & flushed in shame. to fit your role, you wore a dark purple thong. your body betrayed you, a wet spot staining your panties. "st-stop! you-you're under arrest!"
"i-i-i am! oh n-no! wh-whatever will i do?!" he mocked, & his men laughed like he was some comedian. "please, (y/n), love, drop the fuckin' act. it's cute & all, but i'd rather you'd just stop pretending, i want you to enjoy this as much as i'm going to~" he faux pleaded, but he knew, either way, you were going to love it eventually. he heard your sighs of content whenever you read 'good guy x bad guy' spicy romances, he recorded you moaning his name when you first got assigned to this case.
"i-i really won't tell anyone, p-please let me go," you begged, watching him stand up & take off his blazer. he threw off his tie, unbuttoned his white dress shirt, revealing his toned, tatted body. every part of his torso, chest, & arms were inked with dark grey tattoos. on his left pec was your initials in some fancy, grand font-- except it was a fleshy pink. a healed scar.
"you like it? or are you scared? i can't really tell," dabi questioned, leaning close to you. his guard's hands were replaced by his. "(y/n), if you tell me to stop nicely, maybe i will. granted, i'll lock you up until you're ready, but i'd wait. so tell me, with that dirty mouth of yours, what do you want?"
"uhm... w-what are you talking about?" you tried to avoid his inquiries, it shamed you to say the least. if you were to say what you wanted -what you truly wanted- you'd betray your country. you didn't want to answer.
"now, or later?" he repeated, tapping your wrist. "i'm gonna need to hear you say somethin' or i'll just do whatever i want, & trust me; you won't be able to handle it."
you were silent, your eyes darted from his icy ones, to his cold lips, to his tattooed body, & back to his eyes. avoidant, maybe that's all you have to do. he'll get bored of someone quiet, no?
"(y/n)~ sweetheart~ you're making a bad choice by keeping your mouth shut, unless that's what you want. you want me to use you, hm?" he teased, biting his lip afterward. dabi knew that look you were giving him because it's the one he gives you all the time. pure, primal lust. intrigue. but mostly lust.
you opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. your heart was beating out of your chest, your voice caught onto your throat. you pondered, just for a moment, & you let your impulse control the outcome; you stayed silent.
after shutting your mouth, dabi smirked devilishly. "you've made your choice, remember that. so don't get too mad at me, 'kay? i give you permission to enjoy this as much as you want, but you probably didn't need my permission," he snickered. the man didn't even let you answer before capturing your rosy lips with his.
his kisses were intense, rough, yet so, so needy for you. in between pants & kisses, he whispered things like, "i've held myself back f' you," &, "god, fuckin' finally." your wrists were once again restrained by his henchmen, while his hands wandered around your body. as one hand cup your precious face, the other groped your tits through your clothes. if one shifted around your neck, the other one would be gripping your hips, bruising you already.
his pierced tongue explored your mouth. saliva dripped from the corners of your mouth, dribbling down your chin. his tongue was down your throat as he choked you. your spine jolted when two, long fingers began to ghost up and down your pussy, pushing a little harder over your clothes clit. he hooked the front part of your thong & pulled up. you let out a muffled scream as your panties disappeared in between your pussy lips. they were drenched in your arousal, & now you started leaking onto your skirt & his chair.
he finally released you from his kiss, your lungs burning. you let in a few shallow breaths before dabi bit your neck. he still had your thong wrapped around his finger, & every so often, he would pull upwards, & a scream of pained pleasure would follow in suit. bite marks & hickeys covered your neck. "all mine~" he purred, licking your tender neck.
"let's get these fuckin' clothes off'a ya," snarled dabi through gritted teeth. it was like opening a present for him. he tore through your t-shirt with ease, not even bothering undressing you all the way so the fabric just hung off of your shoulders. he suddenly fished a knife out of his pocket & cut your bra off of your body. he glided the dull side between the valley of your breasts, down to your heaving stomach. he shoved your mini skirt up around your waist & he cut off your soaked thong.
"fuckin' hell, babe. i've been dreaming about this," he groaned, stabbing the blade into his wooden desk. dabi squeezed your plush thighs, his handprints bruised on your skin. what was strange was how his men acted while the two of you were intimate; they were stoic & unwavering, their hardened faces expressionless.
they were under dabi's complete control, & that's just how he is. he knows how to get people on his side, he knows when they're interested, that's why he's such an influential man. "you really thought you could trick me?" he barked, pulling his leather belt out of his pants' loops. he fastened the belt around your wrists. "poor, little (y/n)~ all hot & bothered in front of the enemy~" with your hands bound, your legs were put onto the arms of the chair. once again, you were restrained by his men. ashamed & -quite honestly- turned on, you were splayed out on the chair, legs spread & pussy throbbing.
he undid the button on his pants, & they fell to the floor. his boxers were soon to follow. you were gawking his member, you couldn't help it. it's the biggest, thickest, you've ever been with in your life.
a smug, toothy grin stretched on his face as he watched your reaction. "you look shocked, doll," he noticed. dabi stood right in front of you, the tip of his cock gently slapping your clit. the contact made you jolt every time. "you've never been with someone like me, huh? that's why you're so quiet?"
you nodded sheepishly while you stared up at him with your doe eyes. he coated himself in your arousal before lining himself up with your entrance. dabi, in such a hushed tone it almost sounded sweet, cooed, "it's a shame i'm gonna use that perfect body. i want you to remember you chose this."
"y-yes sir, i-i remember," you replied back. when he whispered in your ear, it sent electricity up your spine, & you'd subconsciously arch your back.
he placed a firm kiss on your jaw, & he praised, "that's my girl~" dabi slid past you folds, diving himself into your entrance. he let out a throaty groan as he through his head back. his adam's apple bobbed, his hair becoming even more disheveled. dabi wasn't a man known for his slow, savory approach; his gentle demeanor was short-lived. he forced his cock into your dripping hole balls-deep. you let out a breathy scream, eyes widen for a second.
dabi towered over you, muscles flexed with every thrust. he pounded you into the chair that, with every thrust, you felt the chair legs wobble underneath you. he shooed his guards away from you because, in all honesty, you were not getting away from him. he's wanted you for too damn long, he's been patient enough.
honestly, it surprised him how slow you were taking the mission. you were behind enemy lines for months, you'd think that you would want to spend the least amount of time there as possible. it's no matter though, he has you right where he wants you. "aren't you worried, (y/n)? you're so quick to trust me," he pointed out in between his harsh thrusts.
every jerk made your tits bounce; he was fucking you so hard that your hearing became fuzzy. he kept hitting your g-spot over & over with the same roughness. "mnh~ t-too fast~ ngh-ahh," you whimpered. did he say something? if he didn't, you didn't even notice. it just was so overwhelming. even though you couldn't keep your mind straight, dabi still kept fucking you like you were some sex doll.
what snapped you back to reality was when a snap echoed off the walls, & your elevation changed. there was a pressure against your chest & a slight pain your back that was soon stretched out. the chair broke from beneath you. your head was cupped by dabi's tattooed hand. he laid flush against you while he folded you in half. your knees were to your chest & your legs rested on his broad shoulders.
at this angle, you could feel his cock in your stomach pumping in & out of your pussy. you let out a scream of pleasure as you begged, "sl-slow down! c-can't handle it!"
"aww~ i'm so sorry, doll face. i can't do that for you. maybe next time though," he joked as though he wasn't pounding you into oblivion. tears of overstimulation & slight frustration welled in your eyes. it was like you were cursed to overwhelming pleasure & moaning out his name forever.
god, did he have stamina. after an hour of raw fucking, he flipped in so many different positions. after the mating press, he put you into missionary with a tight grip on your plush hips. your arousal stained his expensive carpet, not that he cared because he'll just hire someone to clean it.
while he missionary, he let out a hearty groan, & his voice broke for a second. he held you tight as he drained his cum inside of your weeping hole. you thought that would be the end, but he took only a moment to breath before flipping you over to fuck you from behind.
ass in the air, back arched, & your face pressed against the ground, you saw stars that began to cloud your already-blurry vision. he rubbed your sensitive clit while he pumped his cock in & out of gorgeous, pitiful you. you whined for an ounce of sympathy. it was your first mistake thinking he was a normal man, & your second mistake was staying quiet when he so-graciously gave you a choice on how you wanted him.
"you're taking me so well, doll~" he praised with kisses on your arched back. you clenched around him when he said that, & his brow quirked up. "oh? you like that? you're squeezing so tight after i said that," he laughed. "you're such a pretty girl, all cock drunk just f'me~"
"st-stop it, you're b-being so-so mean," you sniffled but you didn't actually mean it... you were kind of a brat, but that's a secret you'd never tell. xoxo.
once you said that, he went more rough than before-- something you didn't realize was possible. you've creamed on his cock more times than you could count on your fingers with both your hands, yet he's only ejaculated once. the white stars started out as tiny dots, yet every time you came on dabi's thick, hard cock, they grew bigger. "g-gunna, i'm g-gunna... cu.. cum," you droned, letting the white stars overtake your vision, & all the sounds you hear became nothing more than a buzz. the only thing you could hear is dabi's laughter as you slowly slipped from consciousness. you squirted all over his cock -something you've never done before- then passed out. you went completely limp as subconscious sighs of pure hormonal ecstasy mixed with your heaving breath.
"uh oh, someone couldn't handle it," dabi tutted, yet he was still relentless as ever, make good of his promise to use you however he pleased. "what time is it?" he called out, & one of his men answered.
"hmm... i think it's about time for the show to begin then~" dabi said, petting your knotted hair as he scratched your scalp (all while he's still inside you, mind you). he came all over your ass a few moments later, then he carried you to his leather couch.
~~~
"where the fuck are we?" endeavor muttered as he stood in front of an abandoned movie theater.
"this is where the tip said dabi would be," his right hand man, hawks, told him. they were both in their tactical gear equipped with war-grade guns & knives at their disposal. soldiers rushed out the back of van in a single file line & they branched off to surround the building. some hid within the trees & branches, others crouched beside the doors to the building, but they were all waiting for one thing; endeavor's command. "should we try contacting (y/n) to see if she's heard anything?"
"we can't," endeavor said shortly, it would compromise the mission if they reached out to you before the designated time. you've agreed to have a twenty minute rendezvous with one of your "co-workers" every three days at three in the morning. your next scheduled rendezvous would be tomorrow.
his walkie-talkie buzzed off, & one of the squad captains said, "team one, in position."
"team two, in position."
"team three, in position."
"team four, in position."
endeavor, after hearing each captain, responded, "team zero, in position. take initiative in three... two... one...!" the burly man kicked open the main entrance door then pointed his gun around, using the flashlight to scan the area.
on his radio, he suddenly heard, "we've found something in theater nine!"
"hold your position, i am on my way. any surrounding teams make your way towards theater nine."
he stepped over debris, ignored any graffiti on the wall, & noted just how dark the atmosphere got the further he went down the corridor. down the hall was a glowing number nine above the very end left door. the fact that there was still electricity running through the building made him wonder how long dabi has been using this place for deliveries. it made him upset that he was right under his nose.
for years he's been hunting this man, this mafia who always seemed to be two steps ahead of him. now? now he had the upper hand. he has the newest, strongest equipment. his men were in the peak physical condition with reaction times as fast as f1 drivers. yet why was it this easy? he couldn't help but wonder.
endeavor reached theater nine, hawks close behind. the rest of his team stayed out of the room for look out. the other teams were already in the theater, fingers on their guns' trigger. it made a few of them jump when the projector started. "there's a man up there!" one yelled, & immediately endeavor turned over his shoulder to shoot at the projector window.
the bullet shattered the window, narrowly missing the shadowy figure. a team was already in pursuit, the captain speaking through their radio to let the others know. the projector was still running, & a voice caught endeavor's attention. his breath hitched, eyes narrowed.
"hello, endeavor~" greeted dabi, shirtless & coy as ever. "right on time, how did i know you were gonna be here?" he taunted, & endeavor noticed dabi's icy eyes darting down then back to the camera. all that was in frame was his upper half, a grand bookshelf in the background. his arm rested stretched out on the back his sofa. the other was in his lap.
"now before you leave & try to take this film for whatever, i wanna give you some peace in mind. my initial plan was just to blow all of you gullible fuckers up, but your cute little spy begged me not to, so you all better thank her. bad news though, you're not gonna see her any time soon," dabi sighed with fake sadness.
whispers erupted from endeavors soldiers. "(y/n)? is he talking about (y/n)?" "fuck... you don't think he..."
"don't get you panties in a twist, she's more than alright. i take good care of her. honestly, i should thank you for sending her right to me. when we get married, i might invite you to the wedding~" he cackled, & a cough was heard through the video. dabi suddenly looked down & yanked something, no, someone up. the back of your head was seen on the bottom of the camera.
"you fucker," endeavor cursed, even though it would fall on deaf ears. he couldn't tear his eyes away from the video. he wasn't even studying it anymore, he was just listening in disbelief.
"i made this movie to... send a message, i guess you could say," he shrugged nonchalantly. he looked back down to you, & his eyes softened. "c'mere, princess," he whispered, & as though you were hypnotized, you climbed atop his lap. "face the camera, show everyone how pretty you are~" & you did as you were told.
gasps filled the theater, nearly everyone looked away & took off their helmets. "oh, my god," hawks said in shock, it just slipped out. he looked at his -self-proclaimed- partner to gauge his reaction. endeavor couldn't tear his icy blue eyes away from the screen. he was as stiff as a statue, breath held.
the camera zoomed out, & there you were in dabi's bare lap, he held your legs wide open. your eyelids drooped, drool made your lips glossy, & you were practically limp in his hold. goops of cum seeped out of your puffy pussy, there was ropes of his semen covered your thighs & lower stomach. hickeys & hand-shape marks bruised your skin. instead of yearning eyes, begging for help, you had a nearly lovesick smile on your face. gently, dabi kissed your head, pecking down to your cheeks & he said hushed sweet-nothings into your ear.
"don't ever try to spy on me again, endeavor. & don't try to save (y/n), she doesn't need it. i promise i'll take such good care of her~"
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inbarfink · 2 months
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Ace Attorney Lawyers Ranked By Their Abilities in Physical Combat
Winston Payne: I’m pretty sure the average Tumblr user could kill Winston Payne with their bare hands.
Sebastian DeBeste: Look, the only reason why this wimp ranks higher than Payne is because he is so sopping wet pathetic that there is a significant chance that his opponent will just start feeling bad about kicking his ass and punch themself in the face instead.
Klavier Gavin: While Klavier is a physically fit young man who is known to keep his cool in extreme situations, he is also a giant law-abiding nerd who has never thrown a punch at anything that isn’t an inanimate wall. It probably wouldn’t be that hard to shove this guy into a locker.
Miles Edgeworth: Look, Miles is an even bigger locker-worthy nerd than Klavier. Anytime anyone, friend or foe, suggests a violent solution he just gets freaked out and begs for them to follow procedures. And no AA Lawyer is more easily thrown off his rhythm and startled than he is. He might have some bulk under the magenta and frills (or at least some impressive leg muscles from climbing 12 flights of stairs every day for like seven years), but he has no idea or will to actually use them in a fight. However, he did try and stare down a man who was aiming a gun at his back that one time and managed to keep his cool throughout all of this.
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So like, he’d probably talk a big game and try and intimidate his opponent into not engaging - but if that won’t work he will get his ass thoroughly whooped. And then he’d try to sue them, which is what his threats were about all along.
Apollo Justice: Actually a considerable step up in power-levels from the previous ones. Apollo might be smol, but he is Done With Your Shit and this gives him Strength. Not to mention that one time he successfully tanked an explosion. His famous Chords of Steel can also serve as a tactic to confuse or weaken his enemies.
Kristoph Gavin: Although he is primarily known for his schemes and poisoning, he did kill a man with a single blow to the forehead with a bottle, showing he does have some decent upper-body-strength to use in a fight. And being known as ‘the Coolest Defense in the West’ means he can keep his calm even during hectic combat. But he’s also very pretentious and his constant pontifications might just be the perfect opportunity for someone to smash his face in.
Blaise Debeste: Okay, look, is Blaise a scary tall man who successfully stabbed a woman to death with a candelabra and constantly carries around a deceptively-powerful lighter and has like, implied, motorcycle gang background? Yes. But also I think anyone who encounters Blaise Debeste face-to-face is overcome with such bloodlust rage that it might give them an edge in the battle against him.
Mia Fey: Mia ranks fairly high on the Battle Scale considering the one time she was faced with a violent altercation she just tried to escape and it… didn’t end well.
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However, in the two times we get to play as her it’s also clear that she wants to Punch. All of the Things. While Apollo is fueled by being Done With Your Shit, Mia has righteous anger - so I think in a situation where she is actually prepared to do battle she would be able to throw a few decent punches. Also assuming we are talking about Mia while she was still alive, there’s also her Spirit Channeling powers to account for. While we’ve never seen them on screen, Maya told us they are “first rate” and I believe her. Maybe she could channel the spirit of a great warrior to try and get an edge in combat?
Manfred Von Karma: While he also has the same Bloodlust-Inducing-Factor as Blaise, and he does seem less physically fit even though they’re about the same age - I feel like his cane could do more serious damage than Blaise’s lighter. And he has that dangerous fucking Stun Gun on him to easily neutralize opponents. Plus, he did tank that one gunshot he got in the shoulder. Manfred’s opponents might have Rage on their side, but also you cannot underestimate the power of his sheer Spite.
Godot: On one hand, Godot has shown an ability to keep his cool in very dangerous situations. He can smash a coffee cup with his bare hands and barely react, showing that he’s decently strong and resilient to pain. And he is yet another proud (?) member of the exclusive “Lawyers With a Body Count Club”. And while stabbing a waifish, 155cm college student (and part time-poisoner) in the back isn’t exactly the most epic demonstration of battle prowess in the history of Anime Lawyers - he did it (and moved the body and doctored the crime scene and prosecuted in court) while tanking a knife slash in his face, showing his pain-resilience once again, as well as general tenacity that would also be useful in battle. Also, he can summon an infinite amount of hot coffee mugs at will, which must make for a decent improvised long-ranged attack.
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On the other hand, his health is also heavily implied to be deteriorating and that he’s basically dying over the course of the final case… possibly due to all of that physical exhaustion. If a fight goes longer than just a single backstab, I feel like these health complications are gonna harm Godot’s performance.
Phoenix Wright: Okay, so this is actually the hardest one to place. I keep flip-flopping on where to put him, especially compared to Mia, and Apollo. Because unlike most other lawyers currently ranked below him, he is a disaster when it comes to being on the offensive; Phoenix Wright is a total wimp who has never returned a punch in his life. However, he is also almost supernaturally durable, unbelievably lucky and deceptively strong. If a solid iron door, a raging freezing river and a speeding car didn’t manage to take him down, what chance does a fellow human, even a more combat-capable one, have???
Calisto Yew: She’s not even a real-lawyer! She’s a Secret Spy who successfully pretended to be a Lawyer for years! She’s got a gun, she’s got a knife, she's got crossbow bolt as hair decorations, she probably has some combat training from her time in Interpol… While she’s clearly more specialized for espionage and infiltration, and not as physically strong as Lang, she’s still got an impressive advantage over most of the regular people who went to Law School. In fact, her skill with barefaced lies and manipulation might also be a skill she could use in a fight to catch her opponent off-guard.
Nahyuta Sahdmadhi: Nahyuta is, in fact, one of the few AA Lawyers to canonically participate in what I would unambiguously call a ‘fight’ (rather than a ‘murder’), when he single-handedly disarmed and apprehended a Defiant Dragon rebel in the sorta-canon ‘Spirit of Justice’ Prologue video.
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Like, that rebel guy probably isn't the world's greatest warrior, but the Defiant Dragons have been around for enough time to give their members at least some basic self-defense/combat skills… more so than the average lawyer on this list at minimum. And Nahyuta very easily crab-stomped him. Showing that he has strong nerves, some amazing reflexes and the martial art skills to knock a man unconscious with a single blow. Not to mention the seemingly supernatural skills with his prayer beads, which he already uses as a sort of ‘weapon’ in court. Also that... thing he did to Apollo's bracelet that one time.
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Nahyuta might be just straight-up Magic, that's pretty OP.
Franziska von Karma: Look, Franziska might not have official martial-arts, guns, or Literal Magic Powers - but what she does have is sheer determination and force or personality. Franziska von Karma has been intimidating grown men since she was a 149 cm tall 13 years old with a riding crop (I mean, one of those men was Miles, but still…..). She had once whipped Phoenix Wright into unconsciousness in a temper tantrum, and like I already mentioned that taking him down is quite a feat. She is also very resilient - while the shot to her shoulders was designed not to kill her, being up back on her feet doing investigation stuff a day after is still very impressive! Her whip might not be as dangerous as a sword or a gun, but she will not relent until she defeats you.
Simon Blackquill: Let me just give it to you straight, Simon Blackquill is 1.88 meter tall, he owns a katana and a trained attack-hawk (giving him both short range and far range advantage), he can break solid metal chains with his bare hands, he can cut your hair halfway across the room with a feather. Not to mention how he could probably use the whole psychological manipulation in battle to intimidate or goad his enemy. There’s not even a lot of funny or interesting points to bring up, he is literally an action movie character who just happens to also be a lawyer.
Athena Cykes: Athena Cykes is the strongest lawyer. One day, she’ll be stronger than whales. I believe in her.
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changbunnies · 6 months
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All About You, (18+)
♡ Pairing: Royal Knight/Bodyguard!Minho x Princess!Reader
♡ Genre: royal au, historical au, arranged marriage au (reader only), age gap, angst, kind of forbidden love? (maybe more than kind of), basically porn with plot
♡ Word Count: 7.5k
♡ Summary: You, the princess who ran away from the castle after finding out your father, the king, has finalized your arranged marriage. Minho, your royal knight and glorified bodyguard, tasked with bringing you back home at all costs. When found, you hit Minho with a very interesting proposition- for him to be the one you share all your "firsts" with, instead of your inevitable husband.
♡ Warnings: age gap !! reader is ~23 while minho is in his 40s, please don't read if this makes you uncomfortable!, uneven power dynamics, outdated traditions and views on women to suit the setting, brief reference to death by guillotine, and death in general, mentions of injury and swordfighting
♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): lowkey corruption kink, loss of virginity (reader), petnames (princess (mostly as a title), good girl), slight sub + dom dynamics, soft dom minho, submissive reader, a lot of kissing (should be expected from me atp), nipple play, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), slight overstim, unprotected piv, multiple orgasms, creampie
♡ Notes: at this point i am determined to write a royal, historical au fic for every member, and my newest offering to you is minho <3 i was literally possessed writing this like once the idea hit my brain i had to get it out asap lmao you can also read the story on my ao3 here, and if you're interested you can also check out my fic rec and feedback blog @stray-dreams
♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.
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Fuck. Minho was absolutely fucked. In recent years, he had one job, and one job only, and that was to take care of the princess. Make sure she’s safe, escort her to where she needs to be and watch over her at all times- that’s all. Not always an easy job, but one of vital importance that Minho took with utmost seriousness. In the 3 years it’s been since becoming your royal knight and glorified bodyguard, he never messed up this critically. 
You always had a rebellious streak and challenged authority, everyone in the castle knew that. And part of Minho’s job, apart from keeping you safe, was keeping you in check- and the king made it extremely clear that failing to do so was not an option. So he lost track of the amount of times he uttered the words “Princess, please think rationally,” or “Please consider your responsibility to the kingdom, don’t do this,” in a near desperate attempt to get you to listen to reason. 
And today, he fucked up the worst he ever had. He knew you were upset tonight, but he was under the impression he successfully calmed you down, and that you wouldn’t do anything rash. He turned his back to you, thinking the storm had been quelled, and that you’d listen to your father, even if doing so felt like pulling teeth. He underestimated however, just how deep your sadness and anger truly ran, and the very moment you saw an opening, you took it. 
You fled from the castle with blind determination, nowhere to go and with little of value in your hands, fueled purely by the desire to escape your unfair circumstances, and live your own life by your own means. You may not believe it, but Minho understood, and felt for you- he really did. But that didn’t change what his duty was, and even if it made you hate him, he had to do his job to the best of his ability. 
So now here he was, roaming the streets looking for you, the hours passing in a blur. You must’ve done a good job of concealing your identity, because no one he asked had seen a young woman matching your description, and as the minutes ticked by, and sunset turned to midnight, he was at a complete loss of what to do. He made record time combing the entire bustling town, stopping into places full to the brim with people in the hopes he’d catch a glimpse of you in the crowd, and yet there seemed to be no trace of you anywhere. 
It was easy for someone to hide their presence in a crowd, or in the rowdy environment of a tavern, and you were more than intelligent enough to blend into a crowd and divert attention away from yourself. It was entirely possible that Minho had seen you at some point, and simply didn’t realize it, though he liked to believe he’d recognize you anywhere, no matter what you wore. Minho scowled, clenching his teeth as he scanned the dark horizon of the treeline; should he check the outer walls of the town for a clue, or double back and check the streets again?
He doubts you made it out of the town easily, considering you likely had no money on your person and little experience with the realities of the world. You were intelligent, yes, but sheltered; he could easily imagine you quickly getting in over your head, thinking you could make it to the next town without issue, only to end up lost and in need of help, with no one for miles to hear your desperate cries. 
Fuck. If he couldn’t find you, his head would most certainly be meeting the cold steel of a guillotine. He had no family who would mourn his loss, but still, he wasn’t ready to face his mortality. And the king, despite being someone he could call a close friend, would spare no mercy if he failed to keep his one and only daughter safe. But really, there was more to it than just the threat of death that kept him searching for you. Believe it or not, he genuinely wanted you safe and well, and he'd do anything to ensure you made it back home, even if it made you curse him for the rest of his days. 
As if God himself heard his prayers and decided to grant him a miracle, Minho sees you- there, on the outskirts of town, holding your cold hands up to your face and letting your breath warm them. It’s dark, the street barely even illuminated enough to discern your recognizable features, but he knows without a doubt that it's you standing there in the cold street, because truly, he knows you anywhere. 
By the time you realize you’ve been spotted and recognized, it’s already much too late to flee. Minho approached you with utmost haste, reaching out and grabbing your arm, lest you make the foolish decision to try to escape again. His hold, while not rough enough to hurt you, is firm, and it only takes one attempt at pulling your arm from his hold to know this is it; your escape attempt has failed, and you’ll be dragged back to the castle and reprimanded for your “temper tantrum.” 
Your father never listens to you, no matter how hard you try to make him understand and see your point of view. Maybe if you were born a boy, your opinions would be important to him, and he’d see you are more than an object to pawn off to whatever man gave him the most political power. “Princess-” “I’m not going home,” you interject before he even has a chance, though you already know it’s in vain. There is no avoiding returning to your glorified prison now that Sir Minho has you in his grasp. 
He sighs, but his face changes to one of sympathy, his grip on your arm loosening ever so slightly. “Can we at least go to an inn room? It’s not safe for a young lady to be on the streets at night,” he reasons with you, as gently as he can manage. Normally Minho is quite stern with you, but you get the impression that he feels being stern isn’t the right approach tonight. You’re known for expressing yourself very vocally, even when doing so is extremely ill-advised, and he is well aware of how opinionated and fiery you are. 
But treating this display as anything other than a genuine act of desperation, a culmination of years of perceived disrespect and conformity, would be another critical error- one he can’t afford to make. So he will be firm, yes, but gentle in his approach. You frown as you look at him; you’re stubborn by nature, and part of you wants to fight against him until the bitter end, but he’s not wrong about the streets being unsafe for you at night. You know he won’t let you escape again come morning, but that’ll have to be a problem for later; for right now, you really should heed his advice and go to an inn for the night. 
“Fine,” you concede, much to Minho’s relief. He could’ve forced you to go with him if he really needed to, but he’d rather avoid doing something so unpleasant. He leads you to a nearby tavern, which is still bustling with activity even at the late hour. He keeps you close as he pushes through the crowd of rowdy drunks to the dual innkeep-bartender, hoping that there is still a room available. The man departs, coming back with a key dangling in hand, “You’re in luck. Last room’s all yours.” 
Minho thanks the man and pulls out his satchel to pay him, leaving a few extra coins as a tip before stashing it back in his pocket, along with the key he was given, and the two of you go up the stairs together. “There’s only one bed,” you comment as you step inside the room, though Minho doesn’t seem to care much about that fact. “That’s fine, don’t plan on sleeping anyways,” he says as he removes his leather scabbard from his back, resting it against the back of the chair in the corner of the room. 
You frown as you sit on the bed and watch him; he must’ve been in a hurry when he received word you fled from the castle, as he wasn’t wearing any of his armor, strictly in casual wear you’d very rarely seen him in. Probably for the best, you think, because if anyone saw a royal knight desperately searching the streets, multiple alarms would be raised. He lights the fireplace, hoping to quickly spread some heat throughout the cold room, before he sits in the chair, crossing his arms and watching you carefully. 
Deserved, you suppose. How is he supposed to trust you’re not going to flee at the first available moment just as before? You certainly don’t make his job easy for him; he can’t take his eyes off you for a second. The silence between you lingers for some time, the crackling of the fire the only sound either of you hear, apart from the muffled patrons enjoying their drinks downstairs. Minho, despite his relaxed posture, looks like he’d be ready to jump up at a moment's notice should he need to. 
You sigh; should you just try to sleep? It’d feel awkward and uncomfortable to try to fall asleep with someone's eyes boring holes into you, but you really didn’t give him much of a choice. “Do you want to tell me why you ran away from the castle?” Minho asks suddenly, breaking the tempered silence between you. “You already know the answer to that,” you respond, crossing your own arms now. 
“Is marrying Sir Jin really so bad?” he asks, and you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Yes, obviously. I don’t want to. Not that you or my father care about me or anything I think.” Minho’s brow furrows, the frown on his face growing. “Princess, you know that’s not true. I do care about you.” “Do you? I haven’t been able to tell in the slightest,” you counter a bit harshly, “and you could help me if you wanted to, you know. I’d be fine out there if I was with you.”
Okay, maybe you’re not being fair to Minho right now. You do know he cares, but realistically, what is he supposed to do? If he disobeyed your fathers orders, he’d be lucky if his only punishment was a swift death. He was assigned to you because your father trusts him to do the right thing and follow orders dutifully, a trust that is usually not misplaced. But he has to admit, the more and more time he spends with you, the more he feels for you. 
Minho never knew your father, the king, to be an unreasonable or cruel man, but in your eyes, he might as well be the devil himself. And maybe he is cruel- because how do you strip someone of their freedom and choices for your own gain, and not see the harm it causes, the wrong in it? You are more than a pawn, more than a subject, more than his daughter- you are a person. A person with thoughts, feelings, and opinions as real as any mans, who did not deserve to be treated lesser than for the simple crime of being born a girl. 
But what is Minho if not an upholder of the status quo? He was just a single man, and even if he recognized how unfairly you were treated in comparison to the golden child that was your elder brother, what was he supposed to do? He always performed his tasks dutifully and without question, and it wasn’t until he met you that he began to struggle with what he should do, and what he wants to do.
And maybe he could get you out of this town, help you live a quiet, modest life somewhere new, away from the watchful eye of your father. Where he could be your protector, same as now, but without the guilt, burden, or threats. You know you shouldn’t take your frustrations about your life out on Minho, but he’s really all you have. You trust him with your life, and he’s shown you multiple times that he cares about you beyond the duty he has to you, or to your father. He's your only confidant, the only person in the world you can rely on. 
Your eyes linger on the scar across his nose- he got it protecting you, the other man’s sword barely missing his eyes and cutting just across his face, and it was only one of many scars he obtained in his service to you. He’d pick you up and run with you in his arms when you were injured, he’d fight off attackers without breaking a sweat, sustain injury after injury all to make sure you were safe. You’d watch his back, always stunned and mesmerized at the ease at which he cut down your enemies, as if they were nothing but paper. 
When he’d turn back to you, breathing heavy and sweat only just starting to trickle on his brow, his eyes would turn from the harshest winter chill to the gentle warmth of a spring morning. He was quiet, stern, but his care ran far deeper than one would think just by looking at him, and all you had to do to see the true depth of his feelings was look in his eyes. So you knew it was unfair to accuse him of not caring about you, to expect him to go above and beyond for you, to ask that he go against your father to give you what you want, but you were just so sad, frustrated, angry, that you couldn’t stop yourself.
“Maybe you’ll grow to love him if you give him a chance,” Minho suggests; you both know that’s never going to happen, but what else can he say? He never married, and had no children, dedicated to his duty as he was; he had no real advice to offer someone when it came to love, romance, and the like, but he imagined it wasn’t impossible to fall in love if you just met Sir Jin with an open mind.
But as stated, that’s never going to happen. You’re stubborn to a fault, and once you’ve decided something, there’s no changing it. The best Minho can ever manage to do is get you to reconsider, but even then, you’re still likely to go about things the way you originally wanted to, with no regard for consequences or keeping up appearances. You’re a fiery woman, there was no doubt about it, and you don’t let go of things easily. 
“The mere thought of giving that man all my firsts makes me sick, it’s vile,” you scrunch up your nose, making your distaste for the man very clear. Minho doesn’t even think you’ve actually met the man yet, but you’ve already decided you hate him, that you don’t want to marry him, and so you’ll be firmly stuck in your opinion no matter what anyone says. 
“Maybe this isn’t advice I should be giving you, but.. You don’t necessarily have to. To give him your firsts, or love him. Find someone you do love, even if you have to keep it a secret, and hold him with all you’ve got. It still wouldn’t be ideal, of course, but.. Well, it’d be something, at least.” Really, Minho is supposed to encourage you to be an obedient daughter and listen to your father without question, but he knows you well enough to know that’s a fool's errand. 
You’re never going to listen, never going to be obedient, never going to stop being opinionated. So what’s the next, most realistic piece of advice he can give? Lie, of course. Make your father and inevitable husband believe you’re a good, obedient wife and daughter, and then go live the life you really want behind their backs. It's dishonest as all hell, and there would be consequences if you got caught, but if you’re going to be miserable no matter what you do, you might as well try, right? It’s what Minho would do if he were you, anyways. 
“What about you?” you ask and Minho raises a brow in question. “What about me?” he asks, and what you respond with makes him feel like the air has been punched out of his lungs. “What if I gave my firsts to you?” Did he hear you right? There must be some mistake with his ears, there’s absolutely no way you said what he thinks you did. “You.. what?” Surely you can’t be serious about this. You’re the princess, and he’s just the man who happens to be your guard, a man who is your fathers age at that. 
But the way you look at him, he can tell you’re not joking in the slightest. “Princess, I couldn’t possibly accept that,” Minho says sternly, his arms no longer crossed but instead resting on the arms of the chair, hands beginning to grip tightly so he can ground himself and try to make sense of this insane situation. “Why not? I’d be happier if I gave it to someone like you. I trust you,” you say so nonchalantly it makes his head reel. What the fuck is happening right now? 
Minho was the ideal man, at least in your opinion. He was handsome, mature, realistic and practical, knew how to reel you in without disregarding the root of what you feel or being disrespectful to you. He never dismissed how you felt, made you feel over emotional or like a fool who overreacts; he’d ask you to see reason, sure, urge you to think more before acting, but he never, never made you feel like your feelings were invalid. And he genuinely cared about you, and you liked him, were attracted to him, so if the opportunity presented itself then.. Why not take the chance? 
Fuck. Minho was absolutely fucked. You were just freshly 20 when Minho first met you and became your guard, and hard as he tried to never see you beyond the platonic, he’s always viewed you as an attractive young woman. He liked your fiery spirit, liked how you had the bravery and gall to challenge authority, a skill that in recent months he felt he was sorely lacking. Your attitude was refreshing, and despite your circumstances, you never acted like a damsel in need of his help. 
In a different life, in another world, maybe you two could have met as equals, not painfully stuck to the rules of an unfair, unforgiving reality. You’d be each other's foil, you, the impassioned dreamer with as many thoughts and ideas as there were stars in the sky, and he the realist, who didn’t dim your light but tempered it into a steady, sustainable flame. You’d take him out on adventures, out of the strict box of his comfort zone, and he’d ground you more firmly to reality, never discouraging your dreams but making sure you took the necessary steps in the right way, responsibly, matching one another perfectly, complementary and meant for each other. 
But that’s not your reality, and you both know it. There would never be any coming back from this if you go through with it, and there’s no ideal, happy future for you two to share. “I’m not so disillusioned to think this would be anything other than sex for you,” you continue, and he swallows, mind still racing impossibly, “but it’d be much more meaningful for me with you than some bastard I don’t like in the slightest.” 
You’re wrong. So wrong, and you don’t even know it. It would never be “just sex” with you. You mean much, much more to him than you even realize. “You won’t regret asking a man like me? There’d be no taking it back once it’s done,” Minho can’t help but ask, rationality and reason desperately trying to gain control. 
Despite what your father may believe, you’re a grown woman capable of making your own decisions. And this is a decision you make with full knowledge of what it means for you, more than willing to accept whatever consequences may arise for committing such a sin. In an ideal world, you’d be allowed to love who you wish, live where you wish, do what you wish. 
But this isn’t an ideal world, and if there is only one thing you can ever be granted in this life that feels as if it isn’t even your own, it would be this- to have one night, just one night, where you can be the person you want to be, with Minho by your side. “You’re free to reject me if you’re not attracted to me, but.. My only regret would have been not trying. So I ask, are you not attracted to me?” 
He looks you over carefully, grip on the armrests tightening. Admitting that he’s attracted to you may as well be a death sentence. But he can’t lie to you, completely at your mercy. Fuck the king, it’s you he’s really loyal to. All he’s ever done, all he ever will do, it’s always for you. He’s always tried to act in your best interest, to do the right thing, to keep you safe and protected. But does keeping you safe even matter if you’re miserable? 
“I am,” Minho swallows, answering honestly despite his better judgment, “You have no idea how attracted to you I am.” “So why hesitate?” you ask, fingers trail down your lap, over your knees, to where the very bottom of your dress lies. He watches you, eyes darting from your hands back to your face. You’re watching him too, carefully, considering his every reaction before you make your next move, impressively calculated. 
You take the hem of your dress in your hands, pulling it up leisurely, getting it halfway up your thighs, and Minho is in front of you in an instant, his hands grabbing your wrists and stopping you from lifting it any further. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Princess,” he breathes, voice low and strained; he can’t lose control of his desires, but fuck, you’re making it so hard. You look up at him, meeting his gaze with the same fiery determination you always have, but there’s more there than just that this time. Desire, want, need- all for him.
Fuck it. He’s going to get burned, but maybe it’s worth it. You’ll be his funeral pyre, engulfing him in your flame until all that remains are the ashes of the man he was supposed to be. And what a beautiful way to end his life it will be, lost between your thighs, feeling your nails dig and claw at his skin. He lets go of your wrists, one of his hands coming to cup your face, thumb tracing over your bottom lip. 
“Has anyone ever kissed you, Princess?” he asks and you give a slight shake of the head, breathing a soft “No..” He hums, and there’s a twisted sort of pleasure he derives from knowing he’ll be your first in every conceivable way. You’re not “innocent,” he knows you’re not, but there’s something about being your first kiss, your first cock, your first everything that makes him crazy. 
“And you want me to be the first one to kiss you?” he follows up with another question, corners of his mouth threatening to twist into a smile when you nod, a soft, honest “yes” leaving your lips effortlessly. He leans down towards you, keeping your head tilted up so he can easily meet your lips. He does so softly, treating you with care. His lips are softer than you expected, and the feeling of them against your own fills you with butterflies. 
He carefully tilts you back, and you let your body fall back onto the mattress, head hitting the surprisingly soft pillows. Minho crawls over you, spreading your legs apart just enough to get between them, your dress now hiked all the way up your thighs. He’s hovering over you, looking down at you with so much love and lust and that it leaves you speechless. “I’ll need you to listen to me tonight. Can you do that for me?” he asks, pressing light kisses to your jaw, under your ear, your neck. 
You can, because it’s Minho. He’d never hurt you, never try to control you, never make you feel lesser than. So you can listen to him, because you trust him with your care; he’ll take good care of you, you know he will. He smiles when you nod, and you see him smile so rarely that it makes your heart skip a beat; his role always requires him to be so stern and straight faced, that seeing him smile down at you like this is enough to melt you into a puddle. 
“You’re a good girl when you want to be, hmm?” he hums against your neck, resuming his trail of kisses against your skin, and you can’t explain why, but the words and tone he says them in makes your stomach flip. If you were in a different world, and didn’t have to return home to the castle tomorrow, he’d take his time marking your neck, filling it with pretty shades of blue, purple, and red, sinking his teeth into your soft, supple skin.
He just knows you’d look so pretty like that, and the way you react when his breath tickles your skin and his lips linger, tells him you’d like it too. His fingers trail down your body, finding the hem of your dress and pulling it up over your chest. You lift your back off the bed when he separates from your neck, pulling your dress off the rest of the way and discarding it to the floor. He kisses you as he fiddles with the straps of your bra, effortlessly unhooking it in the back and pulling it down your arms and off your body. 
He may have never married, but he’s no stranger to being with and pleasuring women. And he’ll make sure he makes this a night you’ll always remember for all the right reasons. Capturing your lips in another kiss, his hands take in your now bare breasts, gently kneading and squeezing. You try to squeeze your legs together, but his place between your thighs stops the act from happening, and he chuckles against your lips when he realizes what you’re doing. 
“Be patient, Princess, I’ll take good care of you,” he whispers before kissing you again, and you let out a small whine, not knowing exactly what you want but knowing you want something. You gasp when he takes your nipples between your fingers and pinches them, not too hard of course, but enough to give him the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your body shudders, you feel dizzy with pleasure and excitement, and the feeling of his tongue circling yours is impossibly intoxicating. 
One of his hands travels down, over your stomach, coming between your bodies to feel your heat over your panties. He’s barely even begun and you’re already soaking the fabric, your eager anticipation for more of his touch palpable beyond all else. He nips at your bottom lip, gently tugging it between his teeth before soothing the sting with kitten licks, his hand slipping inside your panties to feel how slick you’ve gotten directly. 
Your body jolts when his fingers run between your folds, and he barely has to move them at all to get his fingers completely coated in your juices. He pulls back to look at you, taking in the sight of your flushed face and swollen lips, pretty and perfect. You’re panting, breathless, overwhelmed in the best way possible. You keen when his fingers rub over your clit in circles, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you lift your head from the pillows to watch. 
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks, suppressing a grin when you whine and quickly nod your head. “Want more, want you,” you mutter, the most timid you’ve ever been in regards to a man. He coos, giving you a sweet kiss as he continues his stimulation to your sensitive spot. “Remember what I said? Patience, Princess, you’ll get what you want. We can’t rush and have you getting hurt, can we?” 
You pout as you concede, and God, he finds that so cute; he’s never seen you actually act shy and pouty before, and it makes him want to give you the entire world. He’ll give you everything you want, anything you ask for, but he’ll have to remember to tease you first so he can see that cute expression on your face before he gives in to your whims. “I’ll make sure you’re nice and ready for my cock, so just be a good girl and follow my lead until then. You can do that for me easily, can’t you?”
Another shy nod, another adorable flushed look that makes his cock throb in his trousers. It was a little intimidating for you, knowing how experienced Minho must be due to his age, and feeling like you must fall short in comparison to other women, women who knew what they were doing, but really, that was just your own insecurity talking. He didn’t mind at all that you were inexperienced; in fact, it excited him for reasons he didn’t entirely understand. 
Maybe it was the knowledge that he was the first to touch your skin, or maybe that someone as determined and fiery as you are is allowing yourself to concede control, to let him be in charge of your pleasure, trusting him to bring you to utmost bliss. What bigger display of trust could you ever show him? Your glassy, pleading eyes, begging him for more but still waiting for it just as he asked- you’re too good for him. He’s going to ruin you. 
He takes his fingers away, and you have to physically stop yourself from whining at the lack of contact, lest he remind you again about “being patient.” “Open your mouth for me,” Minho requests, and though you are a bit confused, you do as he asks immediately, obeying without question. Fuck, that’s hot; the image of you, mouth open, tongue slightly sticking out and waiting to receive whatever he gives you is something he never wants to forget. 
Minho slides two of his fingers into your mouth, instructing you to lick, to get his fingers nice and wet. Truthfully, you were more than lubricated enough to take his fingers without this step, but he couldn’t resist the urge to see you this way. He pushes his fingers in your mouth down to the knuckle, and you persist with coating them in your saliva even as you gag and tears prick the corners of your eyes. 
He showers you with praise, slipping his fingers out of your mouth when he feels satisfied with the work you’ve done on them, kissing your cheeks, feeling the heat of your face on his lips. Slipping his hand back inside your panties, he presses the tips of his wet fingers to your hole, and you instinctively suck in a breath, body unconsciously tensing from the anticipation. “You have to relax, Princess, it won’t feel good if you’re tense,” he explains sweetly, shaking his head when you mutter a soft apology. 
“Don’t be sorry, not for that. Just focus on me, hmm? On this,” he whispers, his lips lingering on yours in a deep, impassioned kiss. His fingers stay completely still until he feels your body start to release its tension, heeding his advice to focus more on his kisses than the motion of his fingers. He keeps kissing you even as the first of his fingers finally starts to push inside you, and you moan into his mouth, hot pleasure licking your skin. 
He moves his finger in and out slowly, making sure you’re well adjusted before he pushes in another one, hooking his fingers to find that delicious sweet spot he knows will have you crying his name in no time. You gasp loudly when he finds it, your hands twisting the sheets beneath you between your fingers, your entire body trembling. It feels so good you almost can’t breathe, and when he picks up his pace, hitting your spot over and over as he brings his thumb to your clit, you know you won’t last long at all.
“M-Minho, I’m- I’m gonna-” you try to warn him, but the words die in your throat, the pleasure too overwhelming to continue to try and form a sentence. He simply hums, continuing his motions until your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, sharp, shuddery gasps and moans tumbling from your lips as your orgasm takes you. “That’s it, just let go, just like that, I’ve got you,” he praises, pressing kisses to your hot skin, helping you ride out your high.
Before you can even fully recollect your breath and get your racing heart back under control, he’s pushing a third finger inside, the trembling in your body intensifying from the addition. “You need more to get ready for me,” he tells you, and in your fucked out state all you can do is nod, taking his word as gospel truth, “need to stretch you good to make sure my cock fits.” All you can do is lay there and take the onslaught of pleasure, unable to think of about anything other than how full and good his fingers make you feel. 
You don’t even register that he’s moved your down your body and tugged your panties to the side until his tongue is meeting your clit, swirling around it in expertly practiced circles, making you desperately cry out his name. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging harshly as your hips buck up to keep feeling the delicious sensation his tongue provides you. He flattens his tongue and lets you grind against it as you want, the motions of his fingers not stuttering or ceasing despite the movement of your hips. 
You feel the familiar heat pooling your stomach, another orgasm approaching quickly, the sounds you release turning into desperate whines and whimpers as you chase the feeling. It only takes a few more rolls of your hips and thrusts of his fingers to have you releasing all over his face, your juices gushing around his fingers. He sits up and pulls his fingers out when your body falls limp, chest heaving and ears ringing as you try to recover from the mind-blowing experience you just had. 
Your eyes are closed, and you can feel his weight shift, can hear the soft clink of his belt unbuckling, followed by the rustling of clothes. You open your eyes to see Minho’s cock is now out, his hand lazily pumping it and spreading the pre-cum that accumulated and dripped over his time focusing on you. You reach a hand out to touch it, to replace his hand with your own, but he grabs your hand before you can, instead making you intertwine your fingers. 
“Tonight’s all about you, Princess. Don’t worry about taking care of me,” he says, kissing the back of your hand and then holding it down right above your head; you’re not quite pinned, easily able to snake your hand out of his hold if you wanted to, but you have to admit, you like the feeling of his hand keeping yours held down. He rubs his cock between your folds before he lines himself up with your entrance, though you didn’t miss the subtle smirk on his face when you whined from the feeling of his tip rubbing against your clit.
“Squeeze my hand if you need to,” Minho tells you before taking your free hand and bringing it up to his shoulder, “and hold onto me.” Your heart squeezes in your chest; the hidden romantic in you yearns to tell him you love him, to thank him for taking such good care of you, to express how you never want this night to end, but you know that would be a mistake. Neither of you can afford to let your emotions spill out, so you swallow them down the best you can, deciding to just live in this moment, to experience it for all that it is and all that it means for you.
The initial push is slow, and thanks to his diligent preparation, there is little physical pain or discomfort you experience from the stretch of his cock. A slight sting, sure, but nothing you can’t easily handle, and it’s barely even recognizable when compared to the pleasant fullness you feel. So when you squeeze his hand, and your eyes well with tears, it’s not because you are pained; it’s because you finally have something you want, a happiness you thought would forever elude you.
He takes his free hand and wipes away the tears from your eyes, a soft look of concern on his face. “Hurts?” he asks, but you shake your head quickly. “Feels good, I just.. I..” you struggle with the words, knowing you can’t express how you actually feel even if you felt you could. “I know. You don’t have to say it, I know,” Minho speaks to you softly, and the kiss he gives you very nearly makes you sob.
There’s still a few inches left before he’s fully inside you, and he pushes the remainder in slowly as he continues to kiss you, his free hand now rubbing soothing circles on your hip with his thumb. Minho does well at maintaining composure, staying firmly in control of himself and his body despite the way your walls squeeze and suck him in, despite the way you whimper when you feel him throb, or cry out against his lips when his tip kisses your deepest spots.
“That’s a good girl, taking all I give you, doing so well,” he praises you some more, and you love when he tells you how good you’re doing if the way you clench around him is any indicator. “Fuck, Princess-” he groans when he finally starts to move, pulling out and pressing back in much more slowly than he normally would, but the wet friction you provide him is delicious. “Minho, I-” you start, interrupted by a sharp gasp when he finds your sweet spot with his cock.
He looks at you as he stills his hips, patiently waiting for you to continue in case what you have to say is important, or a request for him to stop. You swallow, face heating up but determined to get out what you want to say. “J-Just this once, I don’t want to be the princess. Call me by name, please-” Oh, that’s what you want? He can do that, easily; he’s already groaned your name countless times in the privacy of his room, stroking his cock to the thought of you.
The sound of your name falling from his lips as he resumes the thrust of his hips has you clenching hard, stars erupting in your vision as he picks up his pace, beginning to quickly and mercilessly hit your spot, over and over again. He takes one of your legs and props it up over his shoulder, allowing more of his cock to fill you up, the creaking of the bed and the sound of skin slapping beginning to overpower the noise from downstairs.
Taking his other hand away from yours, you’ll have to forgive him, he licks his fingers and then brings them to your clit, wanting nothing more than to see and feel you release on his cock. It only takes a few more thrusts and circles from his fingers to have you crying out his name as you cum, fingers digging into the sheets beneath you as your body shakes and legs tremble. But Minho hasn’t cum yet, so he’s not quite done with you, not that you mind in the slightest; you’ll let him chase his pleasure as long as he wishes, even if it leaves you a drooling, fucked out mess in the end.
He pulls out of you, just long enough to sit against the headboard, and then he’s pulling you on top of him, guiding you to sink back down on his cock and sit fully in his lap. The new position has you rolling your eyes to the back of your head, Minho guiding the movement of your hips with his hands as he thrusts up into you. He’s quite literally doing all the work, but that’s perfectly fine; this night is supposed to be about you, after all, and he doesn’t want you to lift a pretty little finger. Just let him use you a little until he cums, that’s all he needs.
You’re panting against his neck, head laid on his shoulder and nails digging into the skin of his back beneath his shoulder blades. The sting of your nails in his skin is just how he imagined it to be, and his head is falling back against the headboard, low grunts and groans of your name leaving freely as his cock throbs and twitches, getting closer and closer to his release. He uses one of his hands to grab your face and lift it up to his, crashing his lips to yours in a desperate, impassioned display of love and lust.
A few more snaps of his hips and you feel his cum spurting inside you in long, thick ropes, the sensation sending you forward into yet another orgasm of your own, your desperate sounds muffled only by Minho’s mouth on yours. Your body collapses against his when the moment slows to a stop, both of your chests heaving and breaths heavy as you lie against him, his arms wrapped around you snuggly and keeping you upright against his chest. 
You can hear the quick, erratic beating of his heart as he catches his breath, looking up at him to see his eyes closed and sweat trailing down his brow towards his cheek. He looks beautiful like this, you think; you hope he thought the same of you. Even as his cock starts to soften, neither of you move, and though your legs protest and beg to be stretched out, you refuse to leave your spot on Minho’s lap.
“Are you alright, Princess?” he asks once he’s collected himself, pushing your hair from your face and wiping the sweat from your brow. “Mhm, just want to stay like this,” you reply, and Minho smiles softly, rubbing over your shoulders and down your back in a sweet gesture of comfort. You’re silent like this for some time, just simply enjoying the feeling of him, the sound of the crackling fire, the warmth he and this room provides you.
“Does my happiness really have to end here?” you can’t help but quietly ask, and Minho is quiet for a moment, carefully considering before he speaks. In a different world, in a different time, in a different place, maybe the two of you are meant to be. There’s comfort in imagining yourself there, truly happy with Minho, letting him care for you while not snuffing out the flame that is your pride, ambition, and spirit.
It’s not meant to be, you both know that to be true. To be with each other required great risk, sacrifice, hardship. But again he has to wonder, is being safe worth the cost of happiness? Would you even truly be “alive” if your every moment was spent miserably? He doesn’t want to see the very core of what makes you you be snuffed out by selfish, idiotic men and their expectations of what you should be.
You’re much younger than him, and it would be impossible for him to be there for you for the rest of your life, but he can be for the rest of his, at least. “Maybe not,” he answers, unsure of what the future holds for the two of you, but not entirely ready to give up so easily. He could accept his fate, accept that love is something out of his reach, but it’s your happiness on the line that makes him want to fight for it. 
There’s a lot he could lose by helping you escape this life you feel trapped in, but he’d rather see you happy than wasting your days away in the castle, subservient to a man you loathe. Your love isn’t meant to be, but that’s okay; he’ll help you all the same. He’s loyal to you, and only you, he’s decided- so if you make your future husband, your father, the entire kingdom your enemy, then they’ll be his enemy too. And it’ll all be worth it just to see you smile for a little bit longer.
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stem-sister-scuffle · 4 months
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STEM SISTER SCUFFLE: ROUND 2 MASHUP 7
Alphys (Undertale) vs Jade Harley (Homestuck)
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Alphys is a Roboticist, Biologist and Souls/Determination Researcher!
Jade Harley is a Nuclear Physicist!
Why you should vote for each contestant:
Alphys:
"Because she messed with DETERMINATION and made Amalgamates, blending monsters into each other to form horrible combinations of undead beings. She’s a lesbian"
"Man made horrors, overwhelming guilt, cute lizard girl, bisexual"
"SHE'S SO CUTE. She's awkward and shy but you can tell she knows a lot about what she does!! She's also a bit of a tragic character considering her biological endeavors have gone kinda. wrong. SHE'S BI AND LIKE ANIME 🫶"
"Ultra qualified women with deep scientific knowledge who are also massive anime nerds and can't hold a simple conversation represent!"
"idk she's kind of just. The Royal Scientist . built a robot and put a soul in it. tried to bring monsters back to life, this failed miserably. did research on souls and determination. has a kickass lab. also nerdy as hell and can't just. tell the truth to save her life. love her"
"I don't think we have a word for "works with SOULs and DETERMINATION, including fusing ghosts with robot bodies and creating immortal abominations of multiple people stuck together." I guess you could probably just put her down as Robotics. Mechatronics or something. Like sure she melted a bunch of guys, but she takes responsibility! Feeds em dog food! That takes responsibility. Bisexual"
"She had a friend who was a ghost, and they wanted to be famous! So she used her knowledge of robotics to build them a new body how they wanted! He became famous, as he wished! And Alphys worked on a bigger, better body that fit him well, though it used up a lot of power and needed more upgrades, hence why it wasn’t used often until the final battle with him (Him being Mettaton). But basically, Mettaton got a new body the way he liked it, changed his name, and started going by different pronouns (Mettaton is only ever referred to by they/them when people reference the ghost). Alphys allowed him to feel much happier as himself, and they’re great friends! Though, she did pretend that she created Mettaton and his SOUL herself, no ghostliness involved. But Mettaton did agree to that.
Because of her perceived achievement, (though her actual achievement was also pretty cool) Alphys was hired as the Royal Scientist for the Underground, and got to work with Asgore, the king of all monsters! She continued working with Mettaton, and Asgore asked her to try and find a way to break the barrier that was trapping them Underground without killing humans. Alphys found an interesting thing called Determination, or DT within humans using the SOULs of humans Asgore had killed and allowed her access to.
She tested it on some flowers in his garden to see what would happen, and nothing did. That she realized at the time, anyway. She had actually injected DT into a flower sprinkled with the remains of Asriel, the king’s dead son, and brought him back to life as a flower. Problem was, Asriel, or Flowey as he eventually called himself, didn’t have a SOUL anymore, since he was a flower. Thinking that nothing had happened, Alphys decided to try and see if it could really bring back monsters that had fallen down/were on the verge of death. She asked people for their family members that had fallen down. The monsters that had fallen down were basically dead, but the last of their magic hadn’t quite run out yet. However, their magic was being spent keeping their bodies from turning to dust, and they were unable to move, pretty much in a coma. So really, if it didn’t work, no harm done! Either it works and they live, it kills them, or it doesn’t do anything and they still die!
Alphys conducted her tests, and at first, it worked! All of the monsters were getting up and moving around! She contacted the families to send them back, but when she was about to, she discovered they had all started melting and had stuck together and merged into one being. She chickened out for fear of how the families would react, and proceeded to ignore a bunch of letters for quite a while. Eventually, she did own up to it, though she was immediately fired (by the EX-queen, not Asgore. Was that even legal?). The families were just happy to have their loved ones back, and while they were still somewhat upset, understandably so, they didn’t really blame her all too much.
ALSO!! She got a girlfriend!! She’s canonically expressed interest in Undyne, Captain of the Royal Guard and who would eventually be her girlfriend, Asgore, and the unknowable! She has made mistakes. Big ones. But honestly, I don’t blame her for the mistakes. The real problem was that she is incredibly anxious and let that get the better of her, leading to her not telling people important things that they deserved to know. She’s not the best at being honest."
Jade Harley:
"She's soo fun and silly and her symbol is literally an atom. she regularly irradiates steak to feed her weird dog"
"She and her nuclear powered dog creating a new universe. she's cool"
"Built a modded bass guitar that's only playable when she's in her robot form and has extra arms. Became a doggirl. She also plays the flute :)"
"i think you have enough ramblings about her already but i couldnt NOT submit her, she is so dear to me <3"
"bbg has THREE scientific specialties!! she genetically modifies plants and makes them grow beautifully high just because she can and loves science. in her alpha timeline she’s a tech mogul and creates technology that challenges the evil empress that brought earth to ruin. AND she’s a furry"
"Doggy"
"She plays a silly flute refrain. She's a furry. Literally, she's a doggirl. She's also a god and created the universe. JADE BEST GIRLIE!!!!"
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obsessedwrhys · 1 month
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SCIENCE VS MAGIC
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ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Donnie disapproves your magical abilities. Sort of enemies to lovers trope, lots of bickering, reader has telekinetic/telepathic powers (origin will be explained throughout the fic), fluff, angst, this fic is kinda long (didnt proof read I got lazy). Reader is fem!!
ᯓ★
To think that all of this started from a normal dumpster that you ended up crashing into after falling out of the sky was like a cliché opening to a movie. Even from the height of the fall, due to your superhuman abilities, you managed to survive but however you endured some severe injuries that left you unconscious.
The crash was loud enough to catch the attention of the four mutant brothers just a few blocks away. Once they made it to the scene, it was like a scene from E.T. They were actually convinced they just witnessed the crash of a spaceship, but there was no spaceship of any kind, just a girl inside a dumpster bin.
"Did she just fall out of the sky?" The eldest asked out of concern.
"Ooooh, do you think she's an alien?" The brother in the blue nudges his brother with a playful smirk.
"According to the visual evidence before me... no, she is NOT an alien Leo"
"Awwww c'mon, maybe aliens also look... humanly!"
"Then does that mean we're aliens?"
"Alright, enough chit-chatting. All this alien talk is making my brain itch. Let's bring her somewhere safe" The eldest suggested which the rest easily went along with.
Just like that you were brought into their lair, you were instantly taken into Donnie's lab to have your wounds treated. Since the brothers trusted him, they left to let him do his work. With his goggles on, he carefully applied medicine on some of your wounds with the help of his tweezers. It was when you hissed that it made his body jump.
"A bit gentle will you?" You asked and he stares at you for a while.... before skedaddling to his monitor to check on your current health status.
From how fast he ran you almost thought you scared him. Just then it came to the realisation that you weren't in your home realm, you were in a completely different place. You could tell because you couldn't detect anyone of your kind with your telepathy. You watched as the... turtle? A walking turtle? Wait turtles walk. A humanoid turtle? Man what realm is this...?
"You're in stable condition even though you fell from about 100 kilometres from the sky. How is that even possible?" He stroked his chin as he taps on the side of his face while trying to make sense of all of this.
"Well... I drank some milk before I ran away. Maybe it made my bones stronger"
"That is absurd. Milk does not make your bones stronger! That supposition is unjustified and irrational. I refuse to hear any of it" He said, or more of the word, yapped. He then took off his goggles and put it aside to continue typing whatever it is on his keyboard.
"Okay, sorry... but I need to get going" You got up but the pain from your injuries made you stutter in your movements, you hiss from the pain.
"That won't be possible. You will need time and energy to heal due to your condition. Besides, what can be more important?" He said, forcing you to lay back down on the operating table.
"Well... would you believe me if I told you I'm a being with superhuman abilities who also happen to be on the run from some space cops because I was accused of breaking realities by travelling in between too much?" You asked. Your question having him bat his eyes at you a few times. Suddenly he starts to examine you with his eyes sparked with intrigue but it was for the wrong reason.
"Ah, hallucination, one of the most common causes of brain damage. How could I have failed to notice this? Could you stare into this light? How many fingers am I holding up?" He continued on trying to examine you but you just stare at him in disbelief.
Of course he thinks you're crazy.
Guess there's only one way to prove yourself.
"Now if you'd just—" The second he sees all of his things floating from the table was when he finally shut his mouth close, his eyes wide from shock as he began to freak out on what to do in this situation.
"I'm not hallucinating and neither are you... this is all magic" You simply said before putting all his things back to it's rightful spots.
He stands there, his eyes not blinking even once as he seems to be having a very hard time digesting your words. Magic?
M.A.G.I.C.?
His left eye twitched which made you wonder if you had just struck a nerve.
"Magic. Does not exist...!" He said, grabbing what seems to be his tool. A staff?
"Magic roughly translates to the art of manipulating natural forces. Annnnnd that's exactly what science does. Magic is just a thing people make up to downplay the works of scientific discovery because SOME people happen to not appreciate the gift of wisdom but rather on fantasy. It's quite self-centered if so to speak" He crossed his arms with a faint smug. Did he just look at you when he highlighted the word some?
"That sucks... but you can't deny that what I have is magic" You said, using your telekinesis to grab a bag of candy from the shelf.
"DONT TOUCH MY STUFF!!"
"I'm not touching!! Look!" You held up both your hands in the air as you used your power to feed yourself the candy roll. He glares at you as he snatches the bag of candy from the air.
"That's it! If you will be staying at MY lair living in MY lab, you will be living under MY rules missy!"
"Missy?!"
"Yes you heard me louuuud and clear!" He said. Ah some part of you is telling you this is gonna be a complicated stay compared to the rest you've had.
For the next few days, you were able to properly get to know the people who have saved you. They introduced themselves as brothers. The one who seemingly always checked up on you was named Raph whilst the other two brothers who are always hanging out with you were Leo and Mikey. That leaves the brother who was... well... constantly eyeing you being Donnie.
The reason why you'd phrase it like that was because every time you found yourself simply resting or spending time with his brothers, you could always catch him spying on you. Most of the time he'd just be peaking from behind objects or if he's feeling brave, he'll straight up choose to stand on the other side of the room with his eyes locked on you like a hawk.
If the staring wasn't weird enough, he would also ask you multiple questions that he seem to have written down in his notebook. He would have the end of his pen pressed against his chin as he asks his questions.
"Well, with your gifted talents, are you able to read minds?" He asked, seated on the ground as he faces you.
"Yes" You responded with your arms folded.
"Confident, but that doesn't mean you're correct. In order to comfirm that theory, we must carry out a test. Now, what number am I thinking?"
"7"
He'd stay silent, his brows slightly narrowed as he slowly nods to himself.
"Interesting... buuuuut 7 is the most common number people would think of in this scenario... it could just be a lucky guess" He said, brushing off your showcase just now while he jot down on his notebook.
You tried your hardest not to roll your eyes once you heard his response. Why does he even bother asking these questions if he doesn't like the answers you give him? Something tells you he's probably just messing with you.
"Alright, next question, are you able to carry out mind control?"
Multiple times, you've told yourself to be patient but as days go by, his behaviour was really driving you insane... to be fair you've also been driving him insane by sharing his room. He seems crazy obsessed with privacy. Which you get. But he's on a whole different level.
"Seriously?" You'd stand in front of his invention. You have no knowledge of what it's even made out of but you were sure it was programmed to keep you out of his side of the room. See it as a semi-transparent wall that he can activate and deactivate.
"I'm not gonna touch your things. You act like I'm some kind of criminal"
"Which YOU AREE!! Your story of being wanted by these space cops easily proves that point. I will NOT risk my tech to be stolen by a space criminal!!" He'd say, pointing at you before crossing his arms with his body facing the other away.
"..... no hard feelings" He'd add in the end.
Riggggght. No hard feelings.
"Well then, I guess I'll just go and have a goodnight sleep" You'd turn on your heels but after taking just a few steps, you'd stop in your tracks. Your back still facing him.
"Oh and by the way, the name space criminal sounds pretty cool. Don't you think?" You'd ask as you show him the remote he needs to deactivate the wall he has set up. The second he sees he has lost it, he began to panic and check for ways out.
"Nononono...! But how?!" He'd question since he was sure it was on him the entire time you've talked.
"A criminal never reveals her tricks" You'd grin as you happily hopped away. The sound of him slamming on the wall making the satisfaction in you grow.
"NO!! DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE!! COME BACK!! HEY!!"
Despite you slowly getting use to his behaviour, you still wonder why he has this much dislike towards you. You wouldn't say it's hate since he's still generous enough to let you stay in his room. But who knows? What if he did actually hate you? You laid down on the skateboard ramp as you stared up at the ceiling.
Your peace soon interrupted once you sensed the familiar presence of someone approaching you. You tried to ignore him when he suddenly sat down beside you. It was awkward silence for a moment.
"... what are you doing?"
"Resting"
"Resting? Does your abilities cause you to grow tired quickly?" He'd ask, whipping out his notebook from out of nowhere.
"Is it like a video game where you have an energy bar for each time you use it? Does it happen to also drain your life force? Do you age faster?" His questions were being asked quicker than you could answer. It was really annoying you like he was a fly that wouldn't leave you alone.
"Do you happen to burn calori—"
"Shhhh" The sound of you shushing him mid sentence made his eyes go wide. It was like he wasn't sure what had just happened.
"Excuse me I wasn't—"
"Shhhh"
His brows twitched almost out of fury once he realised what game you were playing at.
"I—"
"Shhh"
"Now you—"
"Shhhhhhhhh"
"LISTEN—!"
"SHUUUUUSHHH!" Your words causing him to be so frustrated that he had to turn around and mutter whatever that it is to himself. From a few words you could only pick up being 'Dumb dumb' and 'You're the better person here'. You had to admit watching him lose it was hilarious to watch.
When he turned back around, you quickly stopped yourself from grinning and went back to your poker face. He takes a deep breath before he exhales painfully slow to sooth himself. You're pretty sure he's gone insane.
"It seems there's no use arguing against someone who doesn't listen" He'd speak but you chose not to say anything this time. Your absent of words irritating him bit by bit.
"I see. The common tactic of giving me the cold shoulder in an attempt to make me seem like I'm the idiot, well I hate to disappoint you but i will not easily fall for such trap" He said as he ends up crossing his arms with his chest slightly puffed out. His head facing the other way and his eyes shut from his pettiness.
It's bizarre how you're both the same age but he acts like such a kid compared to you. You sighed.
"Why do you even hate magic so much? Or just me in general. Do you have some sort of grudge?" You questioned and he opened his left eye to look at you, then his right eye. You could see his face relaxing slightly at your question.
"What makes you think I'd tell you?"
Ah what were you thinking... of course he wouldn't tell you...
"... fair point. Have a good day" You got up and ended leaving him there. Your powers helping you sense the disbelief he was experiencing at that moment.
Days passed by and each second that goes, you began to miss the realm you were originally from. Your family, your friends, they must be worried sick about you. Yet you're stuck in this world where you feel caged inside the sewers. There has to be a way to jump back into the realm of your home without triggering the system the space cops have set up.
You'd spend your time drawing out strategies and calculating the possibility of the chances of it succeeding. All of those plans written on plain paper you may or may not have stolen from Donnie's pile but oh well, it's not that you took that many anyways, besides he won't find out since you hide it under your pillow.
After countless tries, you still couldn't find the answer. The security is tight since those space cops are really out to get you. The thought of this being your new life really gives you the shivers. Just as you went in the kitchen to grab a drink, you were then approached by Raph.
"Hey (Y/N), you don't seem to be in good shape" He'd point out the frown on your face which you were quick to drop.
"Oh, that's nothing. Just still adjusting to this world. I haven't really gotten the chance to explore" You said before taking a sip of your drink.
"Well... in that case. How about you join us tonight for patrol?" He'd suggest. The offer so good that obviously you couldn't pass it up.
Which brings you on the rooftop with the four brothers. You had to admit it was nice to finally breath fresh air for once in this realm. The city seems so alive and although the tech isn't as advanced compared to where you're from, it still made the place look so fast paced and pretty. Is that a hotdog stand? You stood at the edge of the rooftop as you admired the streets, failing to notice Donnie who's been glaring at you since you've arrived.
"Alright boys.... and uh... girl. You get the drill!! Let's get this—" Sounds of a scream interrupted his words. All five of you duck to see a woman getting cornered by a gang of thugs in a dark alley.
"Oh no... we gotta help her!"
"Do not worry brother, for I have just the right tool—"
Before he could even finish talking, you have already jump down to the alley with the use of your telekinesis to help you land safely. You threw punches and kicks while simultaneously dodging the attacks thrown at you. Your moves catching the brothers off, each having a reaction of their own.
"Helllll yeahhh!! Save some for me!!" Leo said as he was quick to join you in the fight.
"Wait! Careful!" Raph following close by.
"Man! Who'd knew (Y/N) could fight like that?" Mikey was utterly astonished while Donnie who stands beside him had his teeth gritted out of annoyance.
"Yeaaah... who would have known...." His eyes sharp when examining all of your moves.
It didn't take long until all of the thugs were unconscious on the ground, you used your powers to tie them up with the rope that was conveniently nearby. The woman was safe and had managed to run away safely away from the danger. To avoid anyone from seeing you guys, you were all quick to leave. On the rooftop is where you celebrated your victory with them.
"That was awesome!! Up tops (Y/N)!!" He'd put his hand up and you were fast to high five him.
"What do you say we go celebrate this over some pizza?" Raph suggested which almost everyone went along with, all except Donnie.
Even back in the lair he was quiet. His expression blank like he doesn't seem happy about the pizza or anything. It peaked your interest almost instantly. That's why once the hangout was over and that everyone has gone to sleep, you felt awkward trailing behind him to his room. You could tell from his body language he had his guard up.
"Rough night?" You tried to start small talk with him. Something you didn't think you'd find yourself doing.
Even though he heard you, he still remained silent. This is starting to feel like karma for how you treated him all the time. You watched as he removes his armour to reveal his soft shell. Even though you'd normally just go to your side of the room, you couldn't bring yourself to walk away, you didn't know why but you felt involved with whatever it is he's dealing with right now.
"Is something wrong?" You questioned but he tried to ignore your presence by putting his equipments away.
"You're not your usual self... did something happen?" You asked and you could see his shoulders tense at your words.
"Hey I'm—"
"Just— Just stop!" He'd shout, suddenly turning around to look at you. His gaze deadly cold as he stares into your irises.
"You think you can just come into my life and try to take my spot?! All these countless years of building and inventing machines for my brothers, only for a fairy tale like YOU to pop out of nowhere!!" He'd say, putting out hand gestures to express his emotions.
You didn't say anything but listened with your eyes slightly wide. So this was how he felt about you...?
"It's not fair!! How is it that you can just do all these things with a flick of your wrist while I have to spend restless nights to even achieve that little?! You—!" He'd stop short, unable to finish as he takes a break to catch his breath.
You frown.
Ah you really feel like a terrible person right now... and it's not that you could control how you were birthed with your powers... but it was mostly because of the way you were pushing his buttons ever since you came. You joining their patrol tonight must have been the last straw.
"You're right. It's not fair" You'd utter and he stares at you, a bit taken aback from your sudden confession.
"It's not fair I get a head start compared to the rest... but that doesn't mean you can put out that anger at me! It's not my fault! Besides, you're clearly a smart dude and a very good brother from what I've seen. So why are you comparing yourself to me? It's like comparing a shark to an orca! It was never meant to be fair" You said. His eyes slowly trailing away like he was no longer able to look at you directly like he did before.
"I... sigh you're right... I'm... s—sorry" He muttered, his voice faint but you heard exactly what he was trying to say.
"Don't worry about it... I'm also sorry for the way I've treated you. Let's start over?" You asked, a slight smile on your face and he couldn't help but admit it was a good look on you.
"Yeah"
Ever since then, his behaviour around you seemed to change little by little. His questions seem to become less as he was now more attentive when listening to your answers. He'd also quit his weird staring habit... well just almost... he still stares at you but instead of looking so focused like you're a strange object, he looks at you with a more friendly expression.
His drastic change really got to you.
It was like a whole brand new person.
He began to act kind towards you. Even going as far as to offering to help with your strategy planning, it definitely threw you off guard when he told you he was willing to help. Obviously his constant yapping and disagreements are still there but they seem more playful compared to before. It was when you realised how he has made you laugh multiple times that you start to notice these feelings developing in you.
You almost hated yourself when you came to the conclusion you had fallen for the guy.
The same guy you could barely tolerate weeks ago.
The question now was that, did he feel the same for you? You could try reading his mind but would that be crossing the line? You'd be evading his privacy and that's the last thing you'd want to do. Inside the room where you laid on your bed, you couldn't help but think about these thoughts while also having your papers of plans scattered across you. How did all of these feelings even came from...?
"Well you're up early" He'd come in the room with a cup of coffee. You nearly jump at his voice.
"I'm early?" You chuckled, noting he was the one to be first out of bed.
"Jokes on you I didn't even sleep" He then placed his cup on his table before joining to examine your mess of papers.
"Now, shall we continue?" He asked to which you nodded.
It was hard to even focus being so close to him. Gosh you really are incapable of thinking now. You gulped, trying to remain calm. This was not you. You never act like this around anyone. All of this stressing made you zone out that Donnie took notice after realising you hadn't been listening to a thing he's been telling you.
"Hellllooooo? Have you used your telepathy to block me out? That's really typical" He'd say and it quickly took you back to the present.
"What?"
"What?" He laughs at your confused state. Ah this is giving you even more mixed signals...
"Sorry, just tired from waking up, let's continue" You said, trying to ignore what just happened, feeling as though you were slightly embarrassed.
"Nononoo, you've been constantly daydreaming everytime I talk to you. Something's up" He'd say.
Oh man some part of you wished he wasn't this observant.
"I guess... I'm just missing home...?" You lied, trying to excuse your behaviour. If he ever finds out you might just bury yourself.
"So you're homesick?" He raises an eyebrow.
"Don't worry, there's no shame to it, the sooner we solve this the sooner we get you home" He said confidently.
He then moved closer to you, his actions causing you to freeze. You were unsure what he was trying to do as he inches closer and closer to you.... just to get a pen? You were embarrassed the second he moved back to his spot. With the pen in hand he continued on writing. Ah that was awkward.
All this beating around the bush was driving you crazy.
"I figured it out!" Donnie exclaimed and it got your attention. You turn to him to look at his plan. It was a bit complicated but with the right timing it could work.
Then you wondered what will happen after you finally found a way home.
Are you just gonna simply leave?
"You don't look awfully happy about this. Is the joy too much that you're struggling to express it?" He grinned.
You sigh.
Now would be the best time.
"No I just... uhm... I have feelings for you?" You awkwardly confessed. Your words making the grin on his face drop.
"I'm saying it now so that if you reject me I can just simply go and we can pretend none of this happened" You tried to lighten up the mood with a weak smile but the shock on Donnie's face made you wonder if this was a bad idea.
Suddenly he was blushing.
You had to blink twice to make sure what you seeing was true.
"Ah... why'd you have to make it worse for me? I was trying to get rid of these feelings" He ran his hand across his face.
What?
"Do you not love me?" You asked and it made him panic.
"Nono! It's not that, it's that... how will I love you if you're never with me? You have a home and I realised it's not here" He frown.
Maybe, it was in the heat of the moment, but you suddenly had a solution to solve this problem.
A solution you would blindly do for love.
"Then I'll stay"
"Sta—stay?! You can't—"
"But I can. Those space cops are out to get me and as much as I miss my people, I'm afraid I could put them in danger if I head back. Maybe... I can stay a little longer?" You said and for a second he stares at you... but soon his eyes sparkles with gleam.
"You wanna stay with me?" You smiled at how awfully innocent he sounded when he asked.
"I guess you've grown on me"
"Well wow... haha... okay... um..." He stutters, struggling to even put the right words in the right order.
"Do you want to um... eat lunch... together? I assume that you're starving right now" He said, trying to play it off.
"Sure, will you be cooking my meal?" You joked which he was quick to return with a smile.
"I'm starting to think you're gonna be more of handful now that we're dating"
"Likewise"
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mllemaenad · 10 months
Text
Listening to Wyll's backstory in context of all the details we're acquiring on devil's contracts and soul selling is fascinating.
See - I listened to Lann Tarv's three tales to get my soul coins. I felt bad for making Karlach listen to that, obviously, but to be honest I didn't even want the coins that much. I actually wanted the stories. I wanted a better understanding of how this works.
And what I'm learning is - for the gods (and godlike beings) of this world, cruelty seems to be the point. I mean - it's possible there's a god in this world I wouldn't want to stab to death with a rusty fork, but if so I have not met them yet.
These beings have the power to save people and places, to change lives, to do anything. And when someone asks them to - they demand a terrible price. But they don't just demand a price. They subvert the original request in such a way that they utterly fail to deliver on the original promise.
An abused woman wishes to be loved - and her true love appears, but dies instantly. A man wishes to save his children from starvation, and ends up personally growing masses of meat on his own body - not only painful for him, but forcing his children into survival cannibalism, which they were trying to avoid.
Auntie Ethel works the same way. Every one of her customers is left in a tortured state, while Ethel still takes her payment.
The idea is that the person must come to regret their wish long before the payment comes due. Every cry for help must be met with a boot to the face. Or else the mortals will get uppity? Or something.
What is interesting is how consciously Wyll defies that. And how much Mizora is dancing around, trying to force him into that state of miserable regret.
Wyll was manipulated into selling his soul. He was a kid, and he was summoned into a terrible situation - and in that moment, he could see no other way to save the city. Mizora did need to save Baldur's Gate to serve her boss's purposes, so she couldn't take that victory from him - but she did everything she could to take the joy of it.
He didn't get respect, or admiration, or his father's pride for saving the city. He lost his home and his family. He was assumed to have done something monstrous because he was denied an opportunity to defend himself.
That was supposed to fill him with bitterness and regret - but he got to work building his own life instead. By the time you run into him, the Blade of Frontiers is a hero of some renown. He's remade himself, and found a way to enjoy what his powers can do, however he came by them.
So that didn't work.
Then Mizora sent him after Karlach, and that was a mission tailored to break him. Karlach is kind and heroic herself, and that the start she has been sold into slavery, mutilated and forced to fight in a war against her will. If Wyll killed her, and then found out who she really was, then he betrayed everything the Blade of Frontiers is supposed to stand for - and he would lose the life he made for himself.
But he didn't, and that didn't work either. He's got a friend, now, who at least knows part of what he's dealing with.
So Mizora gave him demonic features. That would destroy the life he's made for himself, because no one would trust him to help them.
Except now Wyll basically goes nowhere on his own, and a small army of people can attest that he got those horns and eyes as punishment for being a good man. Mizora might be able to shut his mouth, but she can't silence his friends - and the group absolutely have shouting sessions about everything. Wyll's horns become a battle scar, like his missing eye, and nothing more.
And beyond that, if you are playing as a heroic character, a significant throughline in the game's story is the journey of the tiefling refugees. The story makes it clear that these people experience a constant barrage of racism, due to their appearance and "demonic" heritage. It also makes it abundantly clear that this prejudice is entirely undeserved - they're just people, with virtues and flaws like everyone else, and what is happening to them is terrible. So Wyll turns up to assist a bunch of people whom he now at least somewhat resembles - and with Karlach along, you have two people in the group who technically count as "infernal", but haven't got an evil bone in either of their bodies.
Mizora created solidarity. Oops.
Wyll is deeply suspicious of gods and higher powers. He doesn't want to make more deals with devils. When Elminster arrives to tell Gale what Mystra demands of him, he explicitly says he does not do religion. When you get Mizora to agree to let his contract expire in six months, he starts by casually invoking the gods - but switches to thanking the player character instead, because he knows who helped, and who did not.
But he utterly refuses to regret the pact he made. That can be a struggle. He clearly misses his dad, and would like that relationship repaired. The fact that he was transformed very much against his will is clearly a source of distress from him.
But if he regrets, then Mizora wins. That's it. Game over. She gets what she wanted all along. So he doesn't.
The main companion characters all have this kind of problem, and naturally have different ways of dealing with it. You have characters like Shadowheart and Lae'zel, who were indoctrinated as children, or Gale, who was literally seduced by one of these nightmare deities - and with them you have to start out by convincing them they they were the wronged party in the first place.
But Wyll knows exactly what game he's playing, and he's been screaming defiance the whole time. It's just that, in his case, the "defiance" is grinning and carrying on every time Mizora inflicts some more bullshit on him.
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oldshrewsburyian · 26 days
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Hi! I have a question regarding the depiction of gender roles in ASOIAF and how they compare to that of the real medieval Europe, specifically high-to late medieval. I'm aware that the violence against women and misogyny depicted in the books are often justified by fans on the basis of "historical realism".
How does the depiction of traditional gender roles in Westeros such as limitations based on gender-what women can and can't do-and violence against women differ from the real middle ages?
Another question: Cersei is meant to be a deconstruction of the "evil queen archetype", and part of her character is learning at an early age that she has no agency because she's female and that her only value is her ability to bear children, and the only way she's able to get anything done in the books is by influencing men with sex or using underhanded magical means because she's barred from traditional routes of power.
However, does this reflect real medieval queen consorts and noble-women? I've read that the things Cersei does were the sort of nasty stereotypes that existed about women during the period seeking illegitimate power.
Okay, here goes, but I am going to immodestly observe that answering questions like this is usually part of the work I'm paid to do. And there's so much going on here.
To your final question first: no, it does not reflect reality. And also, uh, no. There are a lot of assumptions embedded in that phrase "seeking illegitimate power" (illegitimate how/why?) but anyway. The image of Cersei as sexually voracious and insatiable (and incestuous) may borrow from the charges against Anne Boleyn, but that case is 1) exceptional for a lot of reasons 2) not medieval. Evil Woman Wielding Power Via Sex + Magic is a medieval idea if you count Thomas Malory's Morgan le Fay, I guess? Which is not nothing! But a work of entertainment literature from 1485 ≠ generalized medieval stereotype.
The fact that real medieval queens, and queens-consort, and queens-regent, and noblewomen -- including those known as lords because that's what they were -- wielded power with no one freaking out about it is, in scholarly terms, old news. Joan Kelly's brilliant 1977 article, "Did Women Have A Renaissance?" (brilliantly summarized/contextualized here by Natalie Zemon Davis, thank you @jstor) points out some of the ways this was so. From at least the 1990s on, the work of other scholars, e.g. Bonnie Wheeler, Amy Livingstone, Fredric Cheyette, Miriam Shadis, has expanded our vision of this. And I'm going into this detail in order to illustrate how long this accurate work has been around, and thus available to work into undergraduate coursework, which is where I'm presuming most people have the closest access to up-to-date scholarship.
Three books in, I'm going to say that if Cersei is intended to be a deconstruction of the "evil queen archetype," uh. GRRM could have done better. I do think she's a fascinating character. But she's also, I think, very clearly a woman who would not be evil™ if women could get MBA degrees. Okay, well, she might be a bit evil™, but in a Narcissist With An MBA way. Anyway. In Westeros, she would be a lot less evil/angry if women could just wield power the way they did in the Actual Middle Ages!! FFS!
Taking your first question last: this is one of the things that frustrates me about ASOIAF because it is so far from historical reality that there is no simple answer to this. This question cannot be answered with a checklist, with items. Medieval misogyny existed. It was also very different from modern misogyny. I don't know why GRRM treats sadistic and often sexual/sexualized violence and abuse of women as normative. Women's legal recourse against marital abuse would require Fantasy Canon Law™, which as we have seen, he does not have. And the idea that most medieval people (canon law notwithstanding) were just a lot less uptight about sex than, say, the Victorians does not seem to have entered his head. Also ~traditional gender roles~ my left foot.
I'll close with one story about medieval misogyny. It comes from a miracle collection. A non-elite woman (artisan or peasant, we don't know) was raped by a stranger; "some man of high rank," according to the text. She was deeply traumatized. She was also, and this breaks my heart, "fearful lest her husband have hate for her because of this thing." But here's where it gets better: we know this in part because she told her neighbors! They functioned as a support system, and recommended that she seek healing at a saint's shrine (mental/emotional/physical health being seen as inseparable.) She stayed in that place for nine days, resting, and visiting the shrine, and talking with the friars who managed it. Gradually, her symptoms of trauma improved. She returned home. I don't know the rest of her story; I hope she was okay, and that her husband behaved decently. But the fact that she was treated with compassion both by her community of origin and the community to which she went for specialized help shows a reality very different from that of ASOIAF.
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creaman · 3 months
Text
—BECAUSE KUNG FU PANDA 4 KILLED MY GRANDMA, OKAY?
To preface, I watched this movie and I'm genuinely tweaking right now so I had to write down a very brief (lie) criticism on this film — which you should boycott, by the way.
Starting with the things I liked, before briefing my primary points of criticism:
Po's Character Regression
Po and Zhen's Dynamic
The Chameleon
I'd also yap about Lord Shen and the death of the art style and the entire narrative and pacing and use of the staff of wisdom but my therapist says being such a hater is 'unhealthy' or something. My heart is full of hatred.
SPOILERS for the entirety KFP4 for the 2 people who care.
KFP4 undermines and ignores the previous three movies — Unwriting character developments, outright removing the Furious Five, straying from the character design philosophies and is completely inconsistent with the established lore.
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Things I Liked About Kung Fu Panda 4
The Chameleon's character design
Visual gag in the Tavern where Po uses a recently thrown axe as a hat rack (made me laugh)
When Mr. Ping did this:
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so cute! the little heart!
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Po — Character Writing
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Po, as established in the previous movies, is confident in his abilities and identity — he’s learnt inner peace, he’s matured as a character. However, in KFP4, his character has completely regressed. He’s immature again (such as KFP1, possibly worse) and says verbatim, “only knows kicking butt and taking names” — UNLEARNING inner peace and insisting that “…being the Dragon Warrior is all I know.”
It’s childish, and sort of Hotel Transylvania-esque.
Which isn’t helped by the comedy, the dialogue — a large chunk of which are jokes in the style of:
Master Shifu says something philosophical
Po quips off of it / doesn’t get it (i.e. Whoa!! beat I don’t know what that means.)
Oh, it’s great, yeah, very tolerable. Po’s shenanigans are normally reeled in by the presence of the Furious Five who are generally more serious in nature, creating a much needed balance in the dynamic — So without them, it’s just Po becoming increasingly obnoxious and insufferable with every consecutive quip throughout the screenplay.
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Po and Zhen — Character Dynamics
[No more graphics sorry I'm too angry]
As if it wasn’t obvious that Zhen was going to be the next Dragon Warrior the second she was introduced.
Zhen, as a character, has no depth besides being a quippy thief. She quips, she steals. This character has no motives — it can be assumed that the writers intended on a ‘change of heart’ thing, but she isn’t established as evil, her working for the Chameleon is written as a (albeit poor) twist reveal.
By which point, her taking either side wouldn’t make sense, given that she has shown no loyalty or attachment to either Po nor the Chameleon.
The movie artificially strengthens their bond by having Zhen start opening up about her backstory out of nowhere for no reason but they have done nothing to grow closer to each other.
Small tangent, her backstory is exactly what you’d expect it to be with no subversions or even emotional weight. Woe is me I was so small and hungry I had to steal to survive. Glossed over in about a minute.
The majority of the dialogue between Zhen and Po is spoken exposition — explaining how powerful and badass the Chameleon is, explaining how ‘we have to go here to do that’ and ‘this place was cool until the Chameleon did such and such’, and the rest of their time together is spent engaging in filler chase sequences and fight scenes.
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The Chameleon
Where do I even start…
This is where it becomes apparent that the movie relies heavily on telling rather than showing —
She is the weakest villain by far, not only in universe but as a written character; which is particularly disheartening because I genuinely adore her character design and feel as though a shapeshifting character has great potential.
The movie artificially inflates her power by insisting through exposition that this is the most capable antagonist thus far (lie).
The audience is TOLD by Zhen and various restaurant patrons that the Chameleon is a powerful shapeshifting sorceress and that she 'dominates the city' whilst the film does nothing to showcase this.
'Dominating the city' meaning letting her henchpeople run amock and bully the civilians just like Lord Shen's wolves in KFP2... uninspired.
I just realised they didn't even give her a NAME what the FUCK is going on
She describes HERSELF as ruthless, clever and unsentimental when comparing Zhen to herself.
She says HERSELF that she’s “Stronger than every opponent you’ve ever faced.”
Let’s see what vile reprehensible things she’s done, shall we?
Gently push someone down some stairs
Her first appearance is through Zhen’s exposition, as opposed to the dramatic and memorable entrances of the previous villains. Her motives or character aren’t established until the final third of the film. She doesn’t even FIGHT anybody until the final third of the film; and even then, her fight sequences are uninspired and she never really poses a real threat. (She goes down in two hits.)
That being said, WE CAN STILL SAVE HER GUYS WE CAN STILL GET HER OUTTA THERE I'M COMING FOR YOU CHAMELEON I'M GONNA DRAFT YOU A PROPER BACKSTORY AND MOTIVE AND YOU'RE GONNA BE THE MOST THREATENING VILLAIN THUS FAR
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There's a scene after the climax of the film where all the kung fu masters and previous villains from the spirit realm bow to Po. I'm not going to provide my thoughts on this because I fear I may burst a blood vessel. Good day!
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Closing Statements
To put it simply, Kung Fu Panda 4 was my Megamind 2.
The film rejects its predecessors in every way. It really feels as though they brought in somebody with no prior knowledge of the franchise to direct the movie.
It's a film that relies heavily on telling rather than showing — banking on the previous three movies to carry it through the box office.
It's just really disheartening to see studio execs turn one of the best franchises into a safe sequel cash grab and regress every character's development.
Nevertheless. I do adore the chameleon's character design so I might do my own take on her character.
As far as I'm concerned, there is no fairy godmother, there is no tooth fairy, and there is no kung fu panda 4.
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