#exceptionally performed character

[simplyavatrice]

what you are is beautiful

#sister beatrice #avatrice #kristina tonteri young #warriornunedit #warrior nun #avatriceeidt #beatrice is such an insanely well rounded #well written #exceptionally performed character #also watching the scenes to find these scenes was fun and painful and sometimes it just hits you how fucking good this show is #myedits #bea <3

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Irene Papas (Tribute to a Bad Man, Electra, Zorba the Greek)—"From the opening shot of Michael Cacoyannis's Electra, as the proud, implacable face emerges from encroaching shadows, it becomes impossible to imagine anyone else as Euripides's heroine. Erect, immutably dignified, dark eyes burning fiercely beneath heavy black brows, Irene Papas visibly embodies the sublimity of classical Greece, tragic yet serene." -Philip Kemp (film critic) Also she's a a badass.

Vivien Leigh (Gone with the Wind, A Streetcar Named Desire)—Leigh is exceptionally beautiful. To quote Garson Kanin, Leigh was "a stunner whose ravishing beauty often tended to obscure her staggering achievements as an actress. Great beauties are infrequently great actresses—simply because they don't need to be. Vivien was different; ambitious, persevering, serious, often inspired." She was an actor's actor, one of those big old-school theatre dames, full of drama and temper.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Irene Papas:

An amazing actress and singer, some may say a literal Greek goddess. Fought against military dictatorship in her home country and had an affair with Marlon Brando.

She literally played Helen, the most beautiful woman in the world in Greek mythology, what more could you want

Vivien Leigh propaganda:

"I submit this gifset--help she is so beautiful and tragic"

"Extremely versatile, absolutely beautiful features and a wonderful resting bitch face if needed."

"She has such a range of character types that she could fit any favorite type of woman. And have you seen her in the Red Dress? with her cocked eyebrow???"

[Linked GwtW gifset]

"She played one of the most famously unlikable characters in cinema history and knocked it out of the park."

"Vivien Leigh vs every established and wannabe actress on Earth- grand slam winner for Scarlett O'Hara and won the oscar. Ultimate power couple with hottie finalist Laurence Olivier. I am just on my knees for that arched eyebrow and smouldering look."

"She’s just mmm the PASSION behind her performances is palpable, she’s so beautiful and elegant and amazing and yeah"

"look at her. im a gay man and im in love with her"

#vivien leigh #irene papas #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 3

[trulyhblue]

INAPPROPRIATE

leah williamson x arsenal! reader

warnings — tiny angst, annoyed! Leah, Emma Hayes, Chelsea, sorta fluff, coarse language, mention of injury scare.

A/N — in light of Lee’s birthday!!!! short one today, sorry! Thought I would add some spice to this. Emma Hayes needs to realize that pretty much all of woso have dated each other, including her own players lol. there is a mention of Bug, which is a character in one of my stories. Just for context, that is Caitlin Foord’s daughter.

___________________

After hearing Emma Hayes yap on about her opinion on footballers' relationships, you found yourself subjected to a pretty pissed-off Leah Williamson.

Today was the London derby, a long-awaited revenge for Chelsea, it seemed, as the Arsenal bus arrived outside the stadium. Seas of blue and red treaded the stands — you caught sight of a couple of jerseys with your number plastered on the back. Leah was holding your waist as you wandered through the mob of fans reaching for autographs and pictures, a cold facade planted across her face.

Leah was always solemn before games. She was a serious contender, North London bred, with a serious competitive nature that no one could break down.

When you moved to Arsenal from your childhood club, you instantly caught onto Leah’s prominent soberness. Every player knew that if they didn't show up for a game and give it their all, their position would falter. It wasn't like any player with a job as a professional ever thought to underperform, but Leah was an exemption from sincerity. You couldn't joke with her the same way you could during team bonding. You would be stupid to slack off during training or talk to an exaggerated extent when Leah was running beside you. The Lioness Captain copped none of it, and there was no exception for you, her girlfriend.

The woman had woken up with an eminent frown playing on her lips. This was arguably the most important game of the WSL season, and with Leah starting after a long time away, there was a newfound angst set in your shared apartment.

Not only that — the stress Leah had put on herself to perform exceptionally — but the media spotlight Chelsea’s Emma Hayes has put on herself after a certain interview regarding coach-player, and player-player relationships.

From your viewpoint, it didn't really affect you. Everyone had their own opinions based on who dated whom. There was no stopping someone for sharing what they thought, so you simply shook it off as soon as you watched the clip. You did feel bad for the select few of the Blue’s team that were dating players. To not have the personal backing of your coach wouldn't be the most relieving sensation. You knew that the fans were in upheaval regarding her comments, but to be honest, there was nothing anyone could do to stop her.

But, it seemed that Leah did not share the same insight as you.

“She can't just go ‘round saying that.” She barked, hiding the Emirates logo as she crossed her arms in disapproval. “It's barmy, that's what it is.”

You were side by side in the change rooms. Leah was already in her kit, the Chelsea socks sticking out like a sore thumb. You were tugging up your shorts, your shirt yet to cover your sports bra. You sighed, having been hearing Leah go on for the best part of the morning.

“You shouldn't let it worry you, Lee.” You muttered, sorting through your bag, ignoring your girlfriend’s huff. “I don't think she meant any harm—”

“Well she did, didn't she?” She retorted.

You pulled your jersey off the hanger, slipping it on. “Leah, c’mon.”

“Why does she feel the need to talk about us, huh? She should be more worried about the amount of injuries on her team, not about what they do in their free time.”

“Leah, that's enough.” You snapped, your hands planted firmly on your hips. The blonde in front of you looked subtly started by your sudden change of demeanour. “Don't worry about it. It's not worth your time.”

You were currently faced with the nerves of the game, on top of other things like international duties, and the Olympics. To have Leah in this mood, in such a critical time like this, was not only overwhelming but downright anxiety-inducing.

Leah didn't answer you. Instead, she tied her laces and crossed the room, exiting into the tunnel for kick-off. This gave you a few minutes to breathe, to centre yourself. You weren't starting, but your nerves were rising by the time you took your seat next to Alessia.

As soon as the game started, it was clear that Chelsea had it covered. Alessia joked that it was the socks, but you could see by the look on Lee’s face that she was fuming from something other than the odd black that covered her shin pads. You warmed up along the sideline, carrying Caitlin’s bug by your side when you saw her growing restless near Frida.

Unlike the rest of your teammates, you bit their nails at the painful game in front of them, you tried to hone your focus on keeping Bug’s hood down, making her giggle instead of wince at the tackles Caitlin was receiving.

You had been benched for the past few games, your hamstring giving you grief over training. But you were anticipating Jonas to call you over. You waited for the flick of his hand, wanting to make things right on the pitch.

The second-half whistle couldn't have come slower. The starting eleven were frustrated, angry, and quiet when entering the changing rooms, an eerie aura lingering inside. You held onto Bug all the way until Caitlin took over, trudging over to Viv, who happily took the girl up to the stands to watch. Jonas had told you and Emily that you’d be put on, so you were preparing yourself for what was to come.

You tried not to interact with Leah. It was an unspoken rule that unless it was personal, it was not to be said directly, especially when you were losing. But the blonde was leaning nearer to you the closer you were meant to be out on the pitch once more. She made the effort to tug at the hem of your shorts, and hold both your shoulders as she stood behind you, listening to the plan for the rest of the game. You pushed your back into her chest, letting her hug you from behind. She squeezed affectionately, and you noticed the subtle unravelling of her tense shoulders. Her features smoothed when she found out you were replacing Victoria in the midfield, and she made sure to hold your hand as you walked back into the stadium.

“You're doing great, Lee.” You managed to say, hoping that your substitution would be before the sixtieth minute. “Just be careful near the wing. It's very congested and you should wait for the midfield to sort it, alright?”

Leah cared deeply about her career and strived for greatness in all that she did. There was nothing that she couldn't achieve without perfection in her eyes. Many people said that you would bring her down to Earth, and remind her that mistakes are human. But there was only so much you could do, and you found that simply telling the girl that she was making the right decisions, treating her softly, was a tactic no game plan could ever beat.

You were about to find your way down the sidelines, getting ready to finish your warm-up before you were subbed on. Both teams had started filing out of their respected halftime seminars, Chelsea looking as confident as ever. Arsenal were sauntering out with much determination, the spite and inherent desire for justice spewing from the gunner’s crowd. Leah and you were near the entrance of the tunnel, standing on the edge of the field in what seemed like your own personal bubble.

Jonas had taken a seat near the rest of the officials, but Chelsea’s Emma Hayes was standing not far from where the two of you stood, skimming her surroundings vaguely without giving too much away. You could feel the irritation radiating off Leah as soon as the woman was in your sight. You both knew the coach was trying to look at you, without it being bitterly obvious, but it seemed to make the tension rise all the more. Your girlfriend found solace in kissing your forehead, running her hands down your sides painstakingly slow. You felt your cheeks go red, the blush filming over your face when Hayes’ eyes darted away.

“Leah.” You warned her wandering hands, squirming in the taller girl’s potent grip around your hips.

You pulled taunt against her, sighing when she loosened. She ignored your scolding look. A smirk was aligned on her lips, threatening to spill the cocky remarks relieving her lips. You watched her run over to the rest of the team, a meek smile matching hers.

God, you couldn't wait to go home.

_________________

A/N — again, sorry it's really short but I wanted to put something out xxxxxx

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #lionesses #woso community #woso x reader #arsenal wfc #chelsea #chelsea women #arsenal #woso #caitlin foord #jessie fleming #beth mead #baby england #bug and bingo #trulyhblue #vivianne miedema #emma hayes #sam kerr #millie bright #guro reiten #erin cuthbert #eve perisset #steph catley #katie mccabe

[sm-baby]

Dissection/Theory Analysis of Able:

So we all know about how Caine constantly feels undermined by his little brother's overachieving, but how does Able feel about it? I think the things that he does aren't ill-intended - he's instead trying to keep up with the great achievements of his older brother(how Caine knows multiple languages and has many accolades) and in his admiration of his brother's feats incidentally surpasses them from all the effort he puts into each act. Each pursuit he bests Caine in is just an attempt to better understand his brother by becoming a master in the things Caine likes.

Able is inherently people-pleasing, and that initial urge to perform exceptionally and be praised for it(starting with Caine and their parents) has expanded so much that the need to be the "good brother" is something that has fully taken over his identity - causing his gentleman act and his superior skill in everything Caine does. It is no longer just having the right cards to play at the right time to impress others, he must always be on top and visibly be doing so(aka why his face is the four aces in a suit of cards).

But, he's become so blinded by the need to excel in everything he does that he's gone into complete tunnel vision with his "perfect" facade and feels that his brother is the closest thing he has to a real connection with someone without having to be "the best". And even then, with his own brother, he's not comfortable enough to completely let his guard down and be a person without focusing on pleasing everyone around him

This is a long ask sorry haha

I love my man Able and I have so many theories about how he's handling all the pressure(I'm down bad for him AND want to psychoanalyze him since you gave us such juicy material in the Freakshow fic(which I'd guess is at least partially true to the direction you're heading with him in the carnival and normal aus)). He's my poor little meow meow(even tho he seems mostly fine in all the art we've seen of him) :)

Freakshow Au by: @hootbon

This made me so incredibly happy i couldn't help but doodle him over and over,,

I love psycho-analysis of my characters,, gonna read this over and over.. man you put my ideas for him into WORDS and that's the coolest thing ever.. i never thought Able would be described as "people pleasing" but MAN.. YOU ARE ABSOLUTLY CORRECT... GOD DAM...

Also aboslutely estatic that you took his psycho-analysis from the chosen one fic.. yesss.. i am very happy with Able and Caine's relationship and I'm especially happy with freakshow able's writing in both the fic and just in general. thank you for this,, made my night!

#able #the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital carnival #tadc able #freakshow au #carnival au #caine #the amazing digital circus caine #tadc caine #art

[lord-squiggletits]

I think the key component to my personal reading of post-Delphi Pharma is that he's trying to be a horrible person on purpose. Not "on purpose" in the way that people have free will to exercise their own choices, but in that Pharma's "mad doctor" persona is a performance he puts on to deliberately embrace how much everyone else hates him. Basically, if people already think you're a "bad Autobot" and a horrible doctor who just kills his patients for fun, why try to prove otherwise to people who have already made up their minds about you? Just fully embrace the fact that people see you as an asshole. Don't try to change their minds. Don't plead for their forgiveness or understanding. Just stop caring. If you're going to be remembered as a monster, you might as well be a memorable monster, and eke as much pleasure and hedonism as you can out of it before karma catches up to you and you inevitably crash and burn.

I mean, I guess you could just go the route of "Oh, Pharma was always a fucked up creepy guy and Delphi was just him taking the mask off," but I really don't like that interpretation because, for one, it feels really wrong to take a character like Pharma becoming evil under duress and going, "Oh well clearly he did the things he did because he was evil all along," as if somehow Pharma breaking under blackmail/torture/threat of horrible death was a sign of him having poor moral character. As opposed to, you know, suffering under the very real threat of horrible death for himself and everyone he cares about while being manipulated by a guy who specializes in psychological torture.

The second reason is that it just doesn't make sense to write Pharma as having been evil all along. I mean...

Occam's Razor says that the best argument is the one with the simplest explanation. Doesn't it make way more sense to take Pharma's appearances in flashbacks, his friendship with Ratchet, his stunning medical accomplishments, and the few we see of him speaking kindly/sympathetically (or in the least charitable interpretation, at least professionally) towards his patients and conclude "This guy was just a normal person, if exceptionally talented." Taking all of these flashback appearances at face value and assuming Pharma was being genuine/honest is a way simpler and more logical explanation than trying to argue that Pharma for the past 4 million years was just faking being a good doctor/person. I mean, it's possible within the realm of headcanon, but the fact is Pharma's appearances in the story are so brief that there simply wasn't room in the story for there to be some sort of secret conspiracy/hidden manipulation behind why Pharma acted the way he did in the past.

I just can't help but look at things like Pharma's friendship with Ratchet (himself a good person and usually a fine judge of character) and the fact that even post-Delphi, pretty much every single mention of Pharma comes with some mention of "He was a good doctor for most of his life" or "He was making major headways in research [before he started killing patients]" which implies that even the Autobots themselves see Pharma's villainy as a recent turn in his life compared to how for "most of his life" he "used to be" a good doctor.

And although Pharma doesn't know this, we as the readers (and even other characters like Rung) know about Aequitas technology and the fact that it actually works, so... if Pharma really was an unrepentant murderer, why couldn't he get through the forcefield too? The Aequitas forcefield doesn't require that a person be completely morally pure and free of wrongdoing or else how could Tyrest get through, just that they feel a sense of inner peace and lack feelings of guilt. Pharma has murdered and tortured people by this point, and put on quite a campy and theatrical show of how much he sees it as a fun game, so why then can he not get through?

It circles back to my headcanon at the start of this post that the "mad doctor" persona is just that-- a persona. Delphi/post-Delphi Pharma's laughing madman personality is just so far removed from every flashback we saw of him and everything we can infer based on how other people see/saw him before that, to me, the mad doctor act is (at least in large part, if not fully) a persona that Pharma puts on to put his villainy in the forefront.

To avoid an overly simplistic/ableist take, I don't think Tarn tortured Pharma into turning crazy. To me, it's more like the constant pressure of death by horrific torture, the feeling of martyrdom as Pharma kept secret that he was the only one standing between Delphi and annihilation, the physical isolation of Messatine as well as the emotional separation from Ratchet, being forced to violate his medical oaths (pretty much the only thing Pharma's entire life has been about), etc. All of that combined traumatized Pharma to the point that the only way he could avoid cracking was to just stop caring about all of it. Because at least then, even if he's still murdering patients to save Delphi from a group of sadistic freaks, Pharma doesn't have to feel guilty and sick about doing it. As opposed to the alternatives, which were probably either going off the deep end and killing himself to escape, or confessing to what he did and getting jailed for it.

In that light, Pharma becoming a mad doctor makes sense. It avoids the bad writing tropes of "oh this character who was good his entire life was actually just evil and really good at hiding it" as well as "oh he got tortured and went crazy that's why he's so random and silly and killing people, he's crazy" and instead frames Pharma's evil as something he was forced into, to the point where in order to avoid a full psychological breakdown and keep defending Delphi, he just had to stop caring about the sanctity of life or about what other people might think of him.

Then, of course, the actual Delphi episode happens, and Pharma's own lifelong best friend Ratchet basically spits in his face and sees him as nothing more than a crazy murderer who went rogue from being a good Autobot. Then Pharma gets his hands cut off and left to die on Messatine. At that point, Pharma has not only been mentally/emotionally broken into losing his feelings of compassion, he's received the message loud and clear: He is alone. Everyone hates him. Not even his own best friend likes him any more. No one even cared enough about him to check if he actually died or not. He will only ever be remembered as a doctor who went insane and killed his patients.

So in the light of 1. Having all of your redeeming qualities be squeezed out of you one by one for the sake of survival and 2. Having your reputation and all of your positive relationships be destroyed and 3. People only know/care about you as "that doctor who became evil and killed his patients" rather than the millions of years of good service that came before.

What else is there to do but internalize the fact that you'll forever be seen as a monster and a freak, and embrace it? People already see you as a murderer for that blackmail deal you did, so why not become an actual murderer and just start killing people on a whim? People already see you as an irredeemable monster who puts a stain on the Autobot name, so why beg for their forgiveness when you could just shun them back? You've already become a murderer, a traitor, and a horrible doctor, so what's a few more evil acts added to the pile? It's not like anyone will ever forgive you or love you ever again.

Why care? Why try to hold on to your principles of compassion, kindness, medical ethics, when an entire lifetime of being a good person did nothing to save you from blackmail and then abandonment? Why put yourself through the emotional agony of feeling lonely, guilty, miserable, when you could just... stop caring, and not hurt any more?

#squiggposting #pharma apologism #i'm sure the doylist reason for the writing is just that pharma was a designated villain #so since he's a villain and 'crazy' it's fine for everyone even the good guys to treat him like complete trash #i just think from a watsonian perspective taking a sympathetic approach is way more interesting and logically consistent #what i mean is like. from a meta perspective one of the best ways to show that a character is super evil and not worth saving #is when even the good guy heroes. the ones who are supposed to be kind and compassionate and wise. see him as dirt #and this is also kind of a necessity in most plots bc TF is the kind of series that just needs action villains and long-term antagonists #so not every villain is written or has a plot to be made redeemable. and pharma is one of these bc he's not important or a legacy character #so from a doylist (meta) perspective you could read the autobots' disregard of pharma as a sign of #'this guy is not meant to have your sympathy as a reader. pay no attention to him' #but from a watsonian (in universe) perspective it paints a miserable picture of pharma being utterly forsaken by the ppl he served alongsid #and like yeah i'm super autistic about pharma so of course i view him with sympathy but like #the idea of being a loyal and good person for years only to be subjected to a Torment Nexus of #being blackmailed into breaking all of the oaths you held sacred. under threat of you and all your comrades dying horrible torturous deaths #then when your comrades find out about it they focus solely on the 'harvesting organs' and not on the 'blackmail' part #and then you get literally left for dead by your comrades and best friend hating your guts #and then you get rescued by a guy who uses you as a test subject for his evil machine #this is a fucking nightmare scenario like pharma could hardly be suffering more if the author TRIED to make him suffer #and for me it's like. the evil pharma did can't be decontextualized to what drove him to that. as well as the question of like #how easily ppl can write someone off as evil and turn a blind eye to (or even find satisfaction in) their suffering bc theyre evil #and either brought it on themselves or it's just karma paying a visit #like. i feel like if pharma WERE a shitty doctor and a terrible person his whole life then the delphi situation would feel like karma #but the way it's written and the lore retroactively put in makes it feel more pharma getting thrown in a torture carousel #and THEN becoming evil. but then being treated as if he was always evil or was some sort of bad apple #bc like i'm not opposed to LOLing when a villain gets a karmic torture/death related to the wrongs they committed #but in pharma's case it feels less like karma and more like endless torture + being abandoned by ppl who should have been more loyal

[i-turned-into-the-stone]

[Commissioned] Sponsor's Choice: YooA Oh My Girl

Tags: Dubcon, gangbang, anal, vaginal insertion, double penetration, face fucking, cum in mouth, a lot of creampies, cum in ass

Word Count: 8,653

A/N: It's my first time writing gangbang smut with complete characters, so if things get a little confusing, I'm sorry. I hope the nicknames I came up with for the OCs aren't too weird and fit the whole concept. And thanks for trusting me with this commission. I really hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

YooA's hunger for solo success had grown stronger after her latest successful comeback. She repeatedly visited the CEO's office, demanding more solo events, but his response remained the same - he wanted her to focus on group activities with the other members of OMG.

While YooA didn't mind participating in group activities, she despised the CEO's habit of sending the group to pointless events. She craved something that would elevate both OMG's fame and her own status as the face of the group.

Determined to demand something more worthwhile, YooA stormed into the CEO's office with her heels clicking against the marble floor. Her skintight dress accentuated her curves flawlessly, catching the CEO's attention.

"CEO-nim, I've been waiting for this meeting," YooA leaned forward, revealing ample cleavage spilling out of her dress. 

"OMG has been doing exceptionally well, but I feel like I'm not getting the recognition I deserve. These group activities are a waste of my time. I want something that will skyrocket my solo fame."

The CEO, a greedy man with a glint in his eyes, leaned back in his chair and eyed YooA with a hidden purpose. 

"I understand your frustration, YooA-ya. But group activities are crucial for building your collective image."

YooA scoffed, flipping her long hair over her shoulder. "Collective image, my ass. I'm the true star of the group, and everyone knows it. I want events that will solidify my position as the backbone of OMG."

The CEO chuckled, intertwining his fingers. "Well, I might have something special for someone like you, after all." 

He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a sleek black envelope, handing it to YooA. "You've been invited to a private masquerade party for VIPs. You'll be the opening act, and then you will have a  special performance just for them."

YooA accepted the envelope, her eyes glistening with excitement.  "A masquerade party, huh?" she said, her fingers tracing the embossed lettering on the envelope. 

The CEO leaned forward, his gaze stern. "Remember, the identities of the VIP guests will be hidden behind masks. You'll need to be on your best behavior. Impress them, Yoo Shiah, and who knows, you might secure some profitable sponsorships."

YooA nodded, envisioning herself as the center of attention. "Of course, CEO-nim. I won't let you down. I won't let this opportunity slip away." She examined the envelope, noting the date and location.

The CEO rose from his chair, signaling the end of their conversation. "Excellent. Consult your manager to handle all the preparations and training. I expect nothing less than perfection from you, YooA."

As YooA turned to leave, the CEO chuckled to himself, his eyes gleaming with interest. 

"Let's see if a greedy woman like you can handle more than you've asked for," he murmured, watching her hips sway as she exited the room.

Back at the dorm, the other members greeted YooA with joyous cheers and congratulations upon hearing about the prestigious masquerade party. 

The girls quickly organized a small celebration, showering YooA with well wishes and excitement. Although they refrained from consuming alcohol to ensure YooA remained sober for her rehearsals and practices, the members still reveled in the festive atmosphere. 

The following day, YooA's intense preparation and practice for the masquerade event commenced. She approached the challenge with high spirits, determined to shine and secure the lucrative sponsorship deals promised by the CEO. 

The choreographer pushed her to her limits, but YooA met every challenge with enthusiasm, flawlessly executing each step and vocal flourish.Finally, the day of the party arrived, and YooA's stomach fluttered with nervous anticipation. 

The stylists meticulously attended to her appearance, adorning her in a shimmering evening gown that accentuated her curves. She wore an elegant mask that concealed the upper half of her face. 

Taking one last look at her reflection, YooA took a deep breath. A confident smirk graced her lips as she stepped out of the door of the company and into the awaiting black limousine that would transport her to the exclusive venue.

As the elongated vehicle glided through the discreet back entrance of the lavish mansion, her eyes widened in awe at the extravagant display of wealth. 

Towering columns, sparkling fountains, and meticulously manicured gardens surrounded the impressive estate, a clear symbol of its inhabitants' opulence and status.

The process of verifying her identity through the invitation card at the entrance took a few minutes, but soon enough, a staff member guided YooA and her managers to the exclusive waiting room. 

Even this private space exuded luxury, with plush velvet couches, a fully stocked bar, and expansive floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the magnificent grounds.

With an hour left before her performance, YooA seized the opportunity to warm up her vocal cords and loosen her body. The mansion didn't appear too crowded, as only the elite VIP guests had received invitations. 

YooA appreciated the relative tranquility, relishing the calm before the storm. Glancing at her reflection in the mirror, YooA admired how the shimmering gown and elegant mask transformed her appearance. 

"Time to leave a lasting impression," she whispered to herself, a surge of excitement coursing through her veins.

An hour flew by in a flash, and before YooA knew it, she was standing behind a curtain on the makeshift stage in the massive hall. The female host's elegant voice echoed through the speakers, officially kicking off the exclusive masquerade party.

Summoning her courage, YooA stepped onto the stage, her shiny outfit catching the warm spotlight glow. Her performance was on point, hitting every note and nailing every dance move with precision and grace. 

The VIP guests below roared with applause, clearly enthralled by her captivating presence. Little did YooA know, the real audience was hidden on the second-floor balconies, their identities concealed behind ornate animal masks. 

Their intense, hungry gazes weren't focused on her singing or dancing - they were fixated on her slender, swaying body, mentally undressing her with each alluring movement.

These VIPs couldn't care less about the quality of her performance; their only interest was how they could soon have this gorgeous starlet fulfilling their wicked desires.

YooA drank in the roaring applause, her performance coming to a triumphant close. 

Every step and melody had been executed flawlessly, and the VIP audience had lapped it up eagerly. 

Satisfied with her work, she made her way back to the waiting room to slip into something more comfortable while she awaited the next performance.

Returning to the plush and private space, YooA swiftly shed her gown and slipped into a form-fitting mini-dress.

"Phew, that was intense!" she exclaimed, fanning herself as she flopped onto one of the velvety couches.

Just then, a venue staff member approached, signaling for YooA and her team to follow.  "Your table is ready. We've prepared a private dining area with top-notch food and drinks for you to enjoy."

YooA's interest was piqued. She turned to her managers. "What do you guys say?”

Her managers exchanged a glance before shrugging. "Well, we're not about to turn down good food and drinks. Let's go for it!" her stylist replied with a grin.

As they were escorted to the exclusive dining area, YooA's eyes widened at the magnificent spread laid out before them - platters of exquisite sushi, succulent Kobe beef, and bottles of the finest champagne. 

"Wow, they're really going all out," she murmured, already reaching for a glass.

Taking a deep, appreciative sip, YooA sank into her chair, relishing the moment. "This is the life, huh? I could definitely get used to this kind of treatment."

YooA was totally digging every bite and sip, relishing the chance to go all out on the top-notch grub and drinks. As she shot the breeze with her crew, it hit her that none of them had a clue about the real deal behind this posh masquerade bash. They were just following the CEO's lead.

But YooA didn't sweat it. She was soaking up the VIP treatment, feeling confident that her killer performance had blown the minds of the guests. She sighed with contentment, giving her champagne glass a final top-up.

Before long, her managers rolled up, giving her the heads up that it was time to slip into something special for her big show. YooA nodded, setting her glass down and making her way back to the waiting room.

When she laid eyes on the skin-tight, revealing gray dress laid out for her, she raised an eyebrow. The outfit clung to every curve, her perky rack was front and center, and the skirt was so short that her ass was practically peeking out.

"Is this... a bit much, don't you think?" YooA quizzed, running her hands over the clingy fabric. But then she shook her head, telling herself to quit being a buzzkill. "Forget it. I just need to focus on putting on a mind-blowing performance."

Slipping into the revealing dress, YooA took a deep breath and made her way back out to the stage, swaying her hips with a whole lot of confidence. Her crew had her back, so what could possibly go wrong?

YooA strolled through the lavish corridors of the mansion, guided by her entourage, until they reached a pair of grand double doors. With a graceful entrance, she stepped through, finding herself on a luxurious rooftop terrace, the night breeze teasing her exposed skin.

In the center of the open space, a group of masked men were chilling, their fancy outfits slightly rumpled. A fox, a rabbit, an owl, a bear, and a snake - each rocking an intricate animal mask that concealed their true identities. They lounged around an oval table, drinks, snacks, and desserts spread out before them.

As the staff who led her there bowed and exited, the door clicking shut behind her, the masked men rose to their feet, their voices charged with excitement.

"Welcome, welcome, Miss YooA!" purred the guy in the fox mask, stepping forward. "Come, have a seat with us." He motioned to the plush couch at the center of their circle.

The others chimed in, introducing themselves with nicknames based on their masks. "I'm Mr. Fox," the first dude announced, "and these fellas here are Mr. Rabbit, Mr. Owl, Mr. Bear, and Mr. Snake."

A shiver danced down YooA's spine as they guided her towards the couch, their predatory gazes devouring her with every glance. Something about this whole setup felt off, but she pushed aside her growing unease.

Putting on her best smile, she settled onto the couch amidst the masked men, acutely aware of how her short, curve-hugging dress captured most of their attention. "Pleasure to meet you all," she replied, silently praying that this "special performance" would go off without a hitch.

YooA mustered a coy smile as she settled into the plush couch, encircled by the masked men. "I'm here to put on a show for you tonight," she said, trying to exude confidence. "I hope you'll enjoy what I've got in store."

Mr. Snake, his eyes gleaming behind the reptilian mask, leaned in and poured her a glass of luscious, red wine. "Just relax, Miss YooA," he rumbled in a smooth, velvety voice. "We already take pleasure in your company.

Mr. Bear, a towering figure in his furry disguise, cleared his throat. "So, Miss YooA, how's the idol life treating you? Any thrilling plans on the horizon?" He extended a plate of mouthwatering indulgent truffles.

YooA accepted the wine and the delectable treats, doing her best to appear at ease as the men engaged her in polite small talk. She knew her mission was to please them, so she played along with their questions and feigned interest.

The men continued to ply her with drinks and appetizers, their masked gazes never straying from her figure. YooA felt their hungry eyes roaming over her exposed skin, and she fought the urge to squirm away. No matter what, she had to keep them satisfied.

As the conversation and laughter carried on, YooA felt her body growing warm, and her head started to spin. But she kept up her practiced smile, determined not to let anything ruin this golden opportunity the CEO had given her.

Unbeknownst to the young idol, the men had been discreetly spiking her drinks and snacks with drugs. They exchanged knowing glances as the substances started to take effect, allowing them to shed their polite masks.

Mr. Snake got up from his seat, moving behind the couch where YooA was seated. He placed his hands on her bare shoulders, sending a shiver through her drugged-out body. "Miss YooA, my dear, I hear you've been looking for some... sponsorship opportunities," he purred, his voice oozing with false concern.

YooA's face lit up at his words. “Oh, yes! The CEO said this could be my chance if I do well,” she blurted and leaned back into his touch a little bit, totally unaware of the predatory glimmer in Mr. Snake's eyes.

The other guys snickered, shifting in their seats, their pants getting uncomfortably tight as they ogled YooA's defenseless form. The time had finally come – they were going to make sure this greedy idol got way more than she bargained for.

Mr. Snake leaned in close, his breath tickling YooA's ear. "My dear, we're so pleased to hear of your eagerness to perform for us tonight," he purred, his grip tightening on her shoulders. "But you see, your performance will be... a bit different than what you had in mind."

YooA's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean? I'm ready to give it my all for you all." She moved to stand, but Mr. Snake suddenly pressed down on her shoulders, forcing her back onto the couch.

"Ah, ah, ah," he chuckled darkly. "You misunderstand. We want you to become our doll tonight - to do with as we please." Before YooA could even react, two of the other masked men moved in, roughly grabbing hold of her arms.

The third man, Mr. Bear, popped open a full bottle of wine. "First things first, let's get you nice and wet, hmm?" he growled, shoving the bottle towards YooA's face. 

Mr. Snake held her head in place as the man forced the bottle's neck between her lips, tilting it to pour the sweet, intoxicating liquid down her throat. YooA choked and sputtered, but the men showed no mercy, determined to break her down and make her their compliant plaything.

YooA's eyes went wide with panic as the pungent wine was forced down her throat. She choked harder but Mr. Snake's iron grip on her head kept her in place. The liquid burned as it went down, and she could feel it sloshing in her stomach, making her head spin even more.

Mr. Fox, who held her other arm, suddenly gripped her neck tightly, cutting off her ability to cough or expel the wine. "Drink it all, you greedy slut," he hissed. "We want you nice and sweet for what's to come."

YooA whimpered helplessly, the wine spilling from the corners of her mouth and down her chin, drenching the front of her already-revealing dress. On her other side, Mr. Owl began roughly groping her thigh, spreading her legs apart. 

"Look at those pretty little panties," he cooed, his fingers hooking into the lace waistband. "This is going to be fun."

YooA tried to struggle, to beg for them to stop, but the men's grips and the drugs coursing through her veins left her utterly powerless. All she could do was pray that this nightmare would end soon.

As the bottle drained, nearly half the wine now coating YooA's face and dress, Mr. Bear finally pulled it from her mouth. YooA coughed, gasping desperately for air.

"W-What... What are you doing!?" she croaked, eyes wide with fear and confusion.

Mr. Rabbit chuckled. "Why, giving you the sponsorship opportunity of a lifetime, my dear." He reached down, grasping her foot and lifting it off the ground. "Just be a good little doll and behave for us."

With a swift motion, he removed her high heel, exposing her toned, glistening leg. Mr. Bear grinned, pouring the remainder of the wine down her smooth flesh. 

"Look at these gorgeous legs," Mr. Bear grinned as he poured the remaining wine down YooA's leg, the liquid trailing from her toes up to her trembling thigh. "Look at this, fellas, the perfect canvas for us to play on."

Next to him, Mr. Owl suddenly yanked up the hem of YooA's dress, further exposing her lacy panties. The idol let out a strangled scream, but the men only laughed.

"Aw, don't be shy, sweetheart," Mr. Bear crooned, pausing to lightly trace the bottle's rim along her inner thigh. "We're just getting started."

On YooA's leg, Mr. Rabbit unzipped his trousers, pulling out his hard, throbbing cock. "Mmm, feels good to be free," he groaned, rubbing the underside against the sole of her wine-dampened foot. 

YooA whimpered, her body trembling as the men's depraved touches sent waves of revulsion through her.

YooA cried out in terror as Mr. Bear slowly traced the bottle's rim along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, inching ever closer to her covered sex. "Please, stop! I'll behave, I promise, just don't hurt me!" she pleaded.

Mr. Bear chuckled. "We aren't going to hurt you. We're going to make you feel so good." 

With that, Mr. Owl yanked her leg wider, while on her other side Mr. Rabbit continued rubbing his throbbing cock against her wine-dampened foot. 

From behind the sofa, Mr. Fox suddenly wrapped his arm around YooA's neck, squeezing her perky breasts through the clingy fabric of her dress. "That's it, struggle for us, little doll.”. 

YooA whimpered as Mr. Bear's free hand moved to the hem of her panties, slowly pulling them aside to expose her slick pink pussy. With agonizing slowness, he pressed the bottle's neck against her sensitive flesh, gradually pushing it past her delicate folds.

“So tight and wet for us already," the burly man bellowed. "This is going to be fun."

Despite her desperate pleas, YooA felt the unyielding glass of the wine bottle slowly breaching her tight entrance. Inch by inch, the thick, rigid neck disappeared into her pussy, delicate folds clinging to like rubber.

A shameful deep moan escaped the idol’s lips as waves of unwanted burning pleasure began to wash over her. Disgusted with her body's betrayal, she realized these guys must have drugged her with some kind of aphrodisiac drug. She thrashed her head back and forth, but the intensely pleasurable sensations only seemed to amplify.

"No, no, it's too deep!" she cried out, fixing a pleading, tear-filled gaze on Mr. Bear. "Please, take it out!"

But the burly man simply grinned, his piggish eyes gleaming with sadistic delight as he ignored her cries. Gripping the base of the bottle, he began to slowly, mercilessly thrust it in and out of her wet pussy.

“Look at that," his voice thick with lust. "Our little doll is enjoying herself more than she wants to admit."

YooA let out a wretched sob, her hips involuntarily rocking against the relentless intrusion. She was powerless to stop the rising tide of illicit, drug-fueled arousal, her treacherous body betraying her even as her mind reeled in utter disgust.

YooA's back arched sharply, her toes curling as the crushing tide of shameful pleasure rolled through her. She could feel a tight, insistent knot building deep within her core, slowly unraveling and flowing downwards towards her aching core.

The wine bottle sloshed and squelched as Mr. Bear continued his relentless, punishing thrusts, the thick glass stretching and filling her in ways she had never imagined. Beside her, Mr. Rabbit groaned in ecstasy, his hips bucking as he rubbed his throbbing cock against the sole of her foot.

"Ungh, fuck... so good," the masked man rasped, his voice dripping with lust. "I'm gonna cum all over your pretty little toes, slut..."

YooA sobbed bitterly, her body betraying her as the sensations built to an unbearable crescendo. She tried to resist, to hold back the rising wave of her own impending orgasm, but it was a futile battle. When Mr. Owl suddenly rolled her swollen, sensitive clit with his thumb, her dam burst.

"Aaahh! Noooo..." she wailed, her voice cracking as her entire body convulsed. Waves of shattering, drug-fueled ecstasy crashed over her, her pussy fluttering wildly around the unyielding bottle. "It's too much... Ooohh, God, it feels so good...!"

The men erupted in raucous laughter, their cruel triumph echoing across the open rooftop as they reveled in YooA's complete and utter surrender.

Still in a dazed, drug-hazed state, YooA felt the wine bottle abruptly pulled from her sensitive pussy with a ‘pop’. Before she could react, Mr. Bear roughly seized a handful of her hair, yanking her forward and down onto her knees in front of the couch.

The other masked men had already freed their throbbing, rigid cocks, lining up before the helpless idol. Mr. Rabbit, who had already been on the edge, shoved his shaft straight into YooA's open, gasping mouth.

"Ungh, fuck yeah!" he groaned, bucking his hips to bury himself deep in her throat.

YooA gagged and choked around his intrusion, her makeup streaming down her face as he ruthlessly face-fucked her. On either side, Mr. Fox and Mr. Owl grabbed her hands, guiding them to wrap around their own straining cocks.

"That's it, jerk us off, baby," Mr. Fox snarled, his hips jerking as she stroked him. "Show us what those pretty hands can do."

YooA moaned in despair, her entire being flooded with shame at her helplessness but her treacherous drugged body craved the overwhelming sensations, and she found herself involuntarily pleasuring the depraved men surrounding her.

Mr. Rabbit let out a hoarse roar as his climax overtook him, his hips stuttering as he unloaded a thick torrent of cum directly down YooA's throat. The stunned idol gagged and choked, but the ecstatic man held her head in place, forcing her to swallow every last drop.

"You filthy slut, drink it all down!" he ordered, finally pulling his cockfree with a wet 'pop.' 

Beside her, Mr. Fox and Mr. Owl let out twin groans, their faces contorting in bliss as they coated YooA's delicate features with their pent-up release. Thick ropes of pearly white cum splattered across her flushed cheeks, dripping down her chin and nose.

Despite her revulsion, YooA found herself oddly aroused. The aphrodisiac still coursing through her veins had her body aching to be used and defiled. Almost without thinking, she slowly licked her lips, desperately trying to lap up the men's fresh seed.

“You love the taste, don't you?" Mr. Owl chuckled, tracing a finger through the cum on her cheek and pushing it into her eager mouth. "What a depraved whore you are."

YooA moaned around his digit, sucking it clean as her hazy gaze silently begged for more of their degrading attention.

"Well now, it seems our doll is ready for the main event," Mr. Snake who had been chilling since earlier rose from the couch. With a wave of his hand, the others seized YooA, hoisting her up onto the table at the center of the group.

The cool polished surface kissed her bare skin as the men spread her legs in a wide, lewd stance. YooA whimpered, fresh tears stinging her eyes as she took in the sight of the men lining up before her, their thick cocks jutting out in unabashed lust.

Mr. Bear stepped up first, his massive member twitching in anticipation. Grabbing YooA's thighs, he leaned in until the swollen head of his cock brushed against her sopping entrance. 

"Look at how desperate your pussy is," dragging his length through her slick folds before abruptly plunging himself fully inside with one savage thrust.

YooA's mouth fell open in a silent scream of mingled pain and illicit pleasure. Mr. Bear set a rapid pace, his huge cock filling and stretching her so completely. 

Meanwhile, Mr. Rabbit clambered up onto the table, straddling YooA's face. "Open up, slut," he commanded, smearing the glistening head of his cock across her gasping lips. 

With no other choice, YooA obeyed, her throat constricting as Rabbit fed his thick length into her mouth. Above her, the musty scent of his crotch flooded her senses, making her head spin.

The sounds of flesh smacking against flesh and the men's grunts of exertion filled the air as YooA was ruthlessly pounded from both ends. A shamed part of her reveled in being used as their depraved cock sleeve.

Suddenly, Mr. Bear threw back his head, letting loose a feral roar. His cock swelled within YooA's walls, giving her womb a thick, scalding creampie as he reached his rapturous peak. 

Even as his climax tapered off, he continued to grind into the battered idol, until at last he pulled free with an obscene popping sound.

"Who's next for her greedy tight holes?" the hulking man grinned, patting YooA's cum-soaked pussy.

Without waiting for an answer, Mr. Snake took Mr. Bear's place, immediately pounding her deep and hard.  

"Mmmpphh!!" YooA protested, her words dissolving into a gargled whimper as Mr. Rabbit's thick length invaded her throat. He seized a fistful of her hair, using it as a handle to roughly fuck her face.

Each punishing thrust drove his cock deeper, the bulbous head visibly distending the tender column of YooA's neck. She gagged and choked around the intrusion, drool and pre-cum leaking from the corners of her stretched lips.

"Oh fuck yeah," Rabbit groaned, his tempo increasing to a brutal, piston-like rhythm. On either side, Mr. Owl and Mr. Fox seized YooA's hands, guiding her fingers around their stiffening shafts. 

The lewd sound of Rabbit's sac slapping against YooA's chin mingled with the wet squelches of Mr. Snake's hips smacking into her womb. Tears streamed from the idol's eyes as she struggled for air between Rabbit's thrusts.

Each time Mr. Rabbit bottomed out, his cock buried to the root, a faint bulge could be seen traveling up the taut flesh of YooA's abdomen. Her abused folds were a mess of stretched and frayed petals, soaked in a mixture of her feminine juices and the copious seed pumped into her by the men.

Yet through the pain and degradation, a part of YooA's traitorous body still craved sensation. Her raw, aching clit throbbed hotly, as if begging for attention.

Mr. Snake relished the sight of YooA's tormented, cock-stuffed face, gleefully adding to her violation. As he savagely pummeled her spasming cunt, he reached down with his free hand, locating her swollen, pulsing pearl. 

He roughly pinched the sensitive bud between his fingers. "You may hate what we're doing, but your slut of a body loves being used as a fucktoy!"

YooA's muffled wails of protest dissolved into a strangled cry of masochistic ecstasy as Mr. Snake rolled and tugged at her clit in time with his ferocious thrusts. Her slick canal clenched and fluttered wantonly around his invading cock.  

On her face, Mr. Rabbit redoubled his brutal face-fucking, slamming his entire length down her throat again and again. YooA's eyes rolled back, her petite frame wracked with convulsions as her first explosive orgasm crashed over her.

Cunt juices gushed from her abused hole, drenching Mr. Snake's pistoning cock and puddling on the table beneath her. The sensations were so intense, so all-consuming that YooA nearly blacked out from the pleasure.   

Her scream of release was muffled by Rabbit's cock, but it only seemed to spur the men on further. Mr. Owl and Mr. Fox rapidly stroked their cocks with YooA's limp hands, their shafts now achingly hard and ready to ravage her well-used cunt next.

As soon as Mr. Snake pulled free, they eagerly lined up on either side of the quivering idol's hips, their cockheads smearing through the mess of her femcum and Mr. Snake’s still-oozing seed. 

Mr. Rabbit unleashed a satisfied scream, yanking YooA's hair with force as his climax arrived. His cock swelled and pulsed, blasting thick ropes of hot jism straight down the poor idol's rawly abused throat.

YooA squirmed and thrashed, nearly choking on the copious load flooding her mouth and nasal passages before Rabbit finally relented, pulling free. The stunned woman collapsed back onto the table, gasping as Rabbit's seed spilled from her gaping lips.

Wasting no time, Mr. Fox immediately seized his opportunity. He clambered up onto the table, not even giving YooA a chance to catch her breath before shoving his rigid length past her gasping lips.

"Gggkkk!" she gurgled, frantically pushing against his thighs as his cock burrowed into her throat.

Mr. Fox grinned wickedly, basking in the delicious sight and sensation of her struggles. Meanwhile, Mr. Owl stepped between YooA's trembling legs. Leaning forward, he rammed his cock to the base inside her abused, cum-drenched cunt. 

YooA bucked and wailed around Fox's invading cock, her body quaking with unwanted ecstasy.

Not satisfied with her muffled protests, Mr. Owl snatched YooA's wrists, using her arms as levers to drive deeper into her velvet sheath on each thrust. The table beneath them shook and creaked from the pressure.

Mr. Fox matched Owl's brutal rhythm, jackhammering his rigid length into YooA's throat while his hands closed around her heaving breasts. With a few sharp tugs, the flimsy fabric of her dress gave way, exposing her firm tits.

Above her, Mr. Owl leered down, savoring the sight of their helpless little doll getting ruthlessly spit-roasted. There was no tenderness in their touches, only savage hunger being slaked by their violation of the degraded idol.

On the sidelines, Mr. Snake, Mr. Bear, and Mr. Rabbit looked on with smug joy, leisurely drinking beers and stroking their thickening cocks as they prepared for another round with YooA's battered form.

"Fuck, look at that slut getting the dicking she deserves," Mr. Snake sneered, giving his cock a few hard strokes. "These idols act so prim and innocent on stage, but they're all just cockcraving cumdumps underneath."

"This cheap piece of pussy won't even remember her own name by the time we're done with her," Mr. Bear grinned, downing another gulp of wine.

In the center of their lascivious attentions, YooA could only whimper and twitch as Mr. Owl bottomed out, giving one final thrust to bury his twitching cock as deep as it would go. With a growl, he emptied his load into her convulsing cunt.

The stunning idol's back arched, her glazed eyes rolling back as the hot torrent of cum flooding her already-stuffed womb triggered an intense climax. Her slender thighs trembled uncontrollably, her hands weakly clutching at the table beneath her.

At the same time, Mr. Fox grunted, slamming his balls on her nose and letting his own thick ropes of cum plaster YooA's tongue and throat. Her body heaving with sobs, she had no choice but to swallow the acrid offering, thick strands leaking from the corners of her mouth.

Once they'd drained the last spurts from their cocks, Mr. Fox and Mr. Owl pulled out, chuckling at the wrecked state they'd left the once proud idol in. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her smooth skin glazed with sweat. Both holes leaked a steady trickle of their combined spend.

Yet as she lay there, mewling and twitching from the overstimulation, her lust-addled body betrayed her anew as the men's hungry gazes roved over her trembling form. Their arousal was clear in the renewed stiffness of their cocks, YooA's degradation only stoking the fires of their insatiable debauchery.

The savage men weren't even close to satiating their debased hunger for YooA's broken body. With rough hands, they hauled her up from the table, dragging the limp idol over to the nearby sofa.

She offered no resistance, too overwhelmed by the sickening mixture of humiliation and unwanted ecstasy pulsing through her veins. Leering smiles creased their lust-twisted features as they shoved YooA face-down over the sofa's arm, leaving her ass lewdly presented in the air.

"Stay just like that, you worthless fuckpig," Mr. Fox barked, sinking one foot atop the back of YooA's head to grind her pretty face into the cushions.

Mr. Bear and Mr. Rabbit seized her wrists, wrenching her slender arms straight back in a brutal parody of the spreadeagle position. Helpless, YooA jerked as the remnants of her tattered dress were ripped away, leaving her nude body completely on display.

SMACK! SMACK! 

Stinging slaps blossomed color across her already-reddened ass cheeks as one of the men reared back to spank and spread her trembling rump. YooA cried out, her voice muffled against the sofa, her muscles tensing.

"Better keep her steady, boys," Mr. Snake chuckled, dribbling a line of thick lube down the crease bisecting YooA's ass toward her tight, puckered sphincter. "This little anal slut's gonna be thrashing like a bronco once I get my cock up that tight back door."

With an anticipatory grin, he gave his achingly stiff cock a few more lube-slick strokes before lining the bulbous head up against YooA's rear entrance. Without any further preamble, he gripped her hips and slowly leaned his weight forward, steadily breaching and widening her for the harsh sodomy to come.

"Hhnngghh!!" The strangled cry was torn from YooA's lips, muffled against the couch cushions beneath her face.

Mr. Snake's thick cock stretched her virgin sphincter unbearably wide, each agonizing inch spearing deeper into her unutilized back passage. She squirmed and thrashed against the men's restraining grips, the sinister laughs surrounding her only driving home her utter helplessness.

"Aww, what's the matter, slut?" sneered Mr. Rabbit from where he pinned one of YooA's arms. "I thought you idol whores were used to taking it up the ass from your sugar daddies."

"She's so goddamn tight!" grunted Snake through gritted teeth as he bottomed out, his pelvis smacking loudly against YooA's quivering asscheeks. "Fuck, this needy tight asshole is just begging to be ruined!"

He pulled back slightly, savoring the feverish clench of her rubbery ring before slamming his hips forward again, jackhammering YooA's unprepared rear with frenzied rabbit thrusts. 

Each vicious stroke drew a pained weeping, her face contorting in a rictus of torment that only seemed to inflame the men's sadistic urges further.

"Look at this bitch's face!" Bear cackled, wrenching YooA's neck back by the hair to expose her agonized expression to their lewd gazes. "She looks like she might actually cry!"

"Then give the whore something to really sob about," Fox growled, forcing his spit-slick cock past YooA's swollen, parted lips to gag her howls of distress once more.

Her lashes fluttered and mascara streamed from the corners of her eyes, decorating her rouged cheeks with blackened rivulets of overflowing tears. Yet there was no mercy to be found in Snake's vicious rutting, nor any escape from the renewed degradation being forced upon her by Fox's fat dick pistoning in and out of her throat.

YooA's entire body kept quivering, her tortured hole spasming around Mr. Snake's relentlessly pistoning cock until he slammed himself fully in. Ropes of fresh thick cum erupted from his twitching cock, flooding her ruined bowels with degrading spurts.

"Hnngghh!!" Snake groaned, his fingertips digging deep into the flesh of YooA's hips as he emptied his harrowing load. 

At the same time, Mr. Fox grinned and seized her disheveled brown hair in his fist before burying himself to the root. Another debased grunt, then the battered idol's mouth was filled with his rank, salty spend.

"Gkkhkk!!" she choked and gurgled, stringy ropes of Fox's ejaculate splattering over her tongue and cheeks until his orgasm subsided. She swallowed forcefully, her features glazed with a sheen of perspiration and streaked with mascara-stained tears.

Mr. Snake finally pulled free with a slick pop, leaving YooA's violated pucker gaping, the pearly ring stretched and swollen around the lewd cream pie slowly leaking from her abused chute. 

No longer needing to keep her steady, Bear and Rabbit released her arms, allowing her body to go limp. But there was no respite for the broken woman.

"Up you go, fuckdoll," Mr. Bear growled, hauling YooA up by her waist and throwing her shuddering form down atop the couch once more, on all fours. He wasted no time in mounting behind her, his thick cock spearing into her freshly-reamed asshole with one brutal thrust.

"AAAIIIEEE!!" The shriek tore from YooA's raw throat as Mr. Bear hammered her with savage abandon, his palm cracking off her ass cheeks. Yet it was quickly muffled as Mr. Owl seized her by the hair, wrenching her face back to glare into his smirking visage.  

"You want the juicy sponsorships, don't you slut?" he sneered, slapping his cock across her gasping lips. "Let's hear you fucking beg for them then.”

YooA's eyes rolled back, nearly catatonic from the degradation and mind-shattering sensations racking her abused form. But coherent words still managed to gurgle past her drool-slicked lips between Mr. Owl's facefucking strokes.

"P...Please... give me... your... sponsorsh-shipsss, s-sirs!" she whimpered subserviently between gags. "I'll d-do... anything!"

Mr. Rabbit snickered, palming his rock-hard cock as he dropped down onto the couch beneath YooA's swaying hips, aligning his cock beneath her cum-dribbling pussy.

"Like taking my thick cock into this loose, fucked-out hole, bitch?" he taunted, punctuating each crude word with a hard slap of his shaft across her splayed pussy lips. "Beg me for my fucking cum, you desperate cumslut!"

"P-Please... gkkkhh!!" YooA's desperate plea was immediately cut off as Mr. Owl shoved his thick cock between her lips, using her momentary vocalization as an excuse to gag her airway with his girth.

Her eyes bulged, spit and drool streaming down her chin as he face-fucked her roughly. Yet still she persisted, her words garbled and barely intelligible around the vicious throat-strokes.

"I... n-need... hnrrghh... your cummm!! G-give it... gkk... to meee!!" 

Beneath her, Mr. Rabbit and Mr. Bear snapped with twisted amusement at her degrading submission. In one harsh thrust, Rabbit buried his entire cock inside YooA's sloppy, cum-drenched cunt, her raw flesh offering barely any resistance.

At the same instant, Bear doubled down on ravaging her thoroughly ruined asshole, his hips smacking loudly against her reddened cheeks on each stroke. The dual intrusions stretched YooA's petite frame cruelly taut, impaled by rampant cocks brutally spitting her worn holes.

"Keep begging, bitch!" Mr. Rabbit jeered, his heavy sac swinging to slap against YooA's swollen outer lips. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back to arc her spine even more severely. 

The new angle allowed him to jackhammer up into her abused quim with merciless force, his cock stretching her tender canal as it sought ever deeper purchase with each shaprp pounding.

Mr. Bear matched his counterpart's ferocious rhythm, battering YooA's defenseless ass just as viciously as his pelvis audibly slap against her ass cheeks. Their girthy cocks pummeled in tandem, turning the sobbing woman into a thoroughly defiled cock-sleeve uselessly whimpering around Mr. Owl's spit-soaked dick.

"Sh-Shponshorsss... hunghhh... pleashshhh... GHHKK!!" YooA gurgled and drooled around Owl's skull-fucking thrusts, barely able to form coherent words. Yet perversely, with each desperate utterance, the men's pace only quickened, driving her body into a quivering frenzy.

YooA's eyes rolled back, her pummeled throat spasming around Mr. Owl's cock as he unleashed his virulent load. Thick, acrid cords of cum blasted over her lolling tongue, the volume so excessive she could do little but let it slather over her lips and stream down her chin 

“The fuck are you doing?! Swallow it all.” Mr. Owl shouted angrily, his fingers digging into YooA's scalp as he pumped her mouth full of his waste. 

Despite his vicious demand, the poor woman was utterly choked, simply allowing the foul load to drip and dribble from her stretched lips as her beaten frame was wracked with involuntary convulsions.

"Grrrkkk... unnghh... more... need... moreeee..." she rasped mindlessly around the soupy mess clogging her throat, her cunt and ass somehow still hungrily milking for more seed deep inside.

And her degraded wish was soon granted, as Mr. Rabbit felt his climax nearing its peak between the vice-like clenches of her pussy. 

"Fuck, this needy tight pussy is gonna wring the soul outta my cock!" He piston-slamming into the sloppy mess of YooA's ravaged sex.

Each thrust drove a fresh gout of the previous loads' cum out in a frothy, splattery spray, only to slurp back inside with the next invading slide. Mr. Rabbit could feel the swollen flesh of her over-abused walls still desperately rippling around him, foolishly craving his defiling seed.

"Aiiieeee!! Oh god! G-gonna get... knocked up... by t-these awfulll cockksss!!" YooA shrieked with delirium, her face a mess of smeared make-up and sticky ejaculate hanging in weeping gobs from her chin. 

Without warning, Mr. Rabbit erupted, blasting scalding strings of cum directly against her cervix. At nearly the same instant, Mr. Bear arched his back with a roar of release, painting the woman's rectum an equal shade of obscene alabaster. 

YooA screamed and thrashed through her brutal dual creampie, her distended lower abdomen rippling visibly as they used her like a mere cum receptacle.

As Mr. Bear and Mr. Rabbit withdrew their cocks from YooA's filled holes with wet pops, allowing thick runnels of their acrid cream to immediately gush from her gaping, ruined openings to the floor.

Mr. Rabbit huffed,"Get this worthless sow off the couch," shoving YooA's cum-glazed form with his knee until she tumbled limply to the carpet. 

The woman idol barely move, her muscles twitching uselessly as her broken mind swam in a haze of degradation and bliss. But there was no pause to be had. 

In an instant Mr. Snake was on her, seizing YooA's matted hair in his fist, using it to haul her body up until she was trembling on boneless legs, shoulders hunched and torso leaning shakily against the couch. 

With a single thrust, Snake slammed his thick cock fully into her thoroughly gaped asshole once more.

“Oughhh!!" YooA shrieked, the harsh re-entry into her sensitive bowels like a lightning bolt of ecstasy-tinged pain. But her cry was cut off as Mr. Fox stepped around in front of her, gripping her jaw in his hands.

"You love getting fucked like a cheap whore now, don't you bitch?" Fox asked with cruel amusement and slapped YooA's flushed cheek, leaving an angry red welt. "Shit, you're leaking like a faucet. I bet this loose pussy needs another big load.”

Choking her briefly until stars burst in YooA's vision, Mr. Fox then grasped the underside of her thighs and hoisted her legs apart, easily sliding his rock-hard cock into the frothy, cum-drenched mess of her cunt. 

"Mmfff... yessshh... fffuckkk... mooore... cummm..." the woman slurred drunkenly, half-delirious from the shattering violation. Her body was utterly suspended between Mr. Snake and Mr. Fox's rutting motions, yanked back-and-forth while ruthlessly bounced on their piercing cocks.

The sounds of their flesh smacking together mingled with YooA's ecstasy-pained moans and the men's contemptuous laughter in a symphony of pure debasement. And not a single shred of her dignity remained.

The two animals sandwiched YooA between them, showing zero mercy as they brutally used her body as a human fuck-doll. Their thrusts jackhammered her stretched figure in opposite directions, turning her into a ragdoll pinned on their dueling cocks.

"Ghhkkk!! Too... b-big!! Hurtsss!! So good!!" The sobbing idol gurgled, her skull lolling as Mr. Snake's fat girth pummeled the deepest confines of her bowels with harsh strokes that seemed to split her in two. 

Her sphincter was a wide, gaping circle of swollen flesh uselessly fluttering around the invasion stretching it unnaturally agape.

His pelvis smacked loudly against YooA's cherry-red asscheeks, adding more angry welts and discoloration to the map of her abject suffering. Perversely, the crescendos of searing pain wracking her backside were punctuated by shudders of ecstasy as her ass was so ruthlessly plowed.

Mr. Fox matched his friend’s depraved rhythm, driving upwards to impale YooA on his cock with just as much uncaring force. Her hammered pussy has become a sloppy, cum-drenched mess of overstuffed folds, the juices of her violations squelching audibly as Fox rutted into her.

"Yeah, you hear how fucking wet this whore's cunt is?" Mr. Fox emphasized his vulgarity with a series of sharp slaps across YooA's jiggling boobs. "She's practically pissing femcum at the thought of getting pumped full of more jizz!”

Beneath them, a lurid puddle of their combined fluid was slowly spreading, expelled from YooA's reddened, distended holes with each cruel penetration.

"Mmmnn... c-cummm... leaking outtbb... stopphhh!!" she pleaded through the haze of delirious elation, only to be silenced as Mr. Snake seized a fistful of her hair and wrenched her neck back painfully. The brute force only allowed him to plunge with even more vicious depth.

"Grrnnghhh... gonna coreload this cockwhore proper!" Mr. Snake hissed, sweat beading his brow while the thick veins along his turgid cock throbbed visibly with each inhumanly powerful stroke. "Right up that slutty fucking babyhole!”

YooA's nails dug deep crescents into the straining muscles of Mr. Fox's shoulders as the dual pistoning drove her over the edge. She wailed like a woman possessed, thrown mercilessly into the throes of a shattering climax that shook her very core.

"Harder... h-harder! I'm... I'MMMMGGHHNNNFFFF!!" The words dissolved into a bestial cry that rang through the room, her arched spine bending near its breaking point as her high peaked.  

Both her holes clenched with convulsive, rippling spasms around the sadistic cocks defiling her - clenched as if her very life depended on milking them for their fresh, degrading seed.

And the two men were all too happy to oblige, sneering with twisted satisfaction as they felt her holes tighten around them. Mr. Snake wrapped his bulging arms crushingly tight around YooA's midriff, holding her helplessly impaled.

Mr. Fox, meanwhile, dug his claws deep into the soft flesh beneath YooA's quivering thighs, lifting and spreading her stiffened lower body wide as he prepared to unload his batter as deep as it would go.

"Take the fucking breeding you wanted so bad, you sloppy whore!" Me. Fox spat, arching his back as he pulled the shrieking woman down atop him with one conclusive, punishing thrust.

At the same time, Mr. Snake unleashed a throaty groan of delight, burying his cock fully inside YooA's bowels before flooding them with new layers of warm cum. His load churned and sloshed inside her heaving abdomen as he emptied his heavy balls.

The violated idol's eyes rolled back until only the whites were visible in her skull. Drool and mascara-tinted streaks of ejaculate trailed down her gaping maw in an unsightly mess as she was overwhelmed one final time, her wits shattered beyond repair.

When at last they'd drained their final spurts into her well-used, cum-stuffed form, the men simply let go, letting YooA collapse to the couch in a boneless, twitching heap. Thick runnels of their spend immediately began dribbling from her ruined, gaping holes to pool beneath her limp thighs.

"Damn, I think we finally broke this celebrity slut properly," laughed Mr. Bear with satisfaction, reaching down to shove the sticky strands of cum oozing from YooA's entrance with his fingertips and rubbing her swollen red clit with it. 

"I could go for another round though - who wants sloppy thirds on this greedy broken  cocksleeve?" Asked Mr. Owl, excited.

"Shit, I think we're well past sloppy thirds at this point," Mr. Rabbit chuckled, eyeing YooA's glistening form with a mixture of smug satisfaction and lingering lust. "That fucktoy's pretty much been run through the entire gangbang gauntlet."

He sighed heavily, already tucking himself back into his trousers with deft fingers. "As much as I'd kill to go another few rounds on that perfectly trained idol pussy, I've got to dip out. Got an overseas deal going down tonight that needs my attention."

A series of agreement followed from Mr. Snake and Mr. Fox as they too began redressing, putting on their suits and slacks with casual nonchalance. As enticing as the thought of further violating their celebrity cumdump was, business matters ultimately took priority.

"Yeah, that Taiwanese shit isn't gonna take care of itself," Mr. Snake grunted, smoothing back his sweat-damp hair. "Plus, the night's still young - no reason we can't find some fresh fuckmeat once we're done working."

The three men shared a round of dark, rumbling laughter at the thought, utterly unmoved by YooA's unconscious, abused, and decidedly well-used state now adorning the soiled sofa cushions. 

With a few parting leers and crude gestures, each bent down to unceremoniously snap a few close-up photos of her swollen holes still dribbling their copious loads, as well as her debauched features.

Mr. Snake smirked as he tucked his phone away. "Don't forget to end the recording properly once you two are done, and send us copies," he reminded Mr. Bear and Mr. Owl, the only ones remaining behind. "I want crispy 4K footage of tonight's A-List celebrity whore.”

Bear and Owl both smirked in response, their attention turning toward the discreetly-mounted video camera in the corner of the opulent penthouse suite. 

They'd been so caught up in the raucous, heated depravity, the fact that every lecherous act had been meticulously captured for their private collections had momentarily slipped their minds.

With a conspiratorial nod, Bear grabbed YooA's limp wrist, slowly guiding her arm up until her swaying fingertips were aimed directly at the camera lens like the world's most sordid puppet display.

Bear grinned at Owl, his grip tightening around YooA's wrist to make her fingers waggle towards the camera. 

The lens captured every lurid detail of her totally degraded state - from the disheveled chestnut tresses matted with sweat and cum, to the utter violence enacted upon her once-pristine holes now gaping and seeded full to brimming.

"This little whore isn't going to wake up for a long while after the utter fucking we gave her," Mr. Bear mused, his free hand pawing at YooA's boobs, streaked with inflamed welt marks and rapidly-blooming bruises. 

"Just think when she finally comes to, she will have scored that coveted sponsorship deal she was begging for. But at what cost? This is gonna be hilarious.” Mr. Owl laughed loudly, wrenching YooA's head upright by her hair so the camera could take in her euphoric yet harrowed expression.

"Well, in her line of 'work', being an absolute fuckpig on the casting couch is basically a prerequisite," Mr. Owl sneered, giving YooA's tits a few harsh, stinging slaps to watch the flesh ripple.

The two men guffawed as if sharing some long-standing inside joke, all the while manipulating YooA's insensate puppet form to give the camera a final, unambiguous view between her legs. 

"Well, I'd say our work here is done...for now," Mr. Bear punctuating that ambiguous remark by sliding two fingers into YooA's sloppy slit and stirring them in a spiral. The idol offered zero reaction, though a few fresh gouts of jism immediately trickled free from her overstuffed crevices.

"Atta girl. Keep dribbling out those sponsorship loads like a good cumdump," he cooed tauntingly, turning his twisted smile back towards the camera lens. "We'll make sure to give this little dickprincess the launchpad to true fame after putting her through a few more 'auditions' over the next few days and nights."

As the two men threw back their heads with harsh, victorious bouts of laughter, the recording feed flickered to an abrupt, unsettling black, leaving YooA's ultimate fate as a broken starlet a mystery to the outside world.

#kpop smut #male reader #kpop gg #girl group smut #kpop fanfic #non con smut #oh my girl yooa #yooa smut #oh my girl smut #oh my girl #commissioned work #kpop girls #female idol smut

[avocado-writing]

hiii your bg3 writing is so *chefs kiss*

I was hoping you'd be able to write the companions' reactions to a bard!tav, giving them a private serenade one night. like they lead them to a clearing away from camp one night and there's a picnic set up and tav sings a song they wrote specifically for their love?

if all the companions is too many, could you please specifically do Halsin, Astarion, Minthara and Wyll?

oh, cute! going to give you a lute, as I think that’s easiest!

Astarion

he makes a comment about how he feels the picnic was a bit unnecessary as he can’t eat it, but you mention you’re his snack later ;)

you sit him down, pour him a glass of wine, and pull out your lute

you ask, suddenly uncharacteristically shy, if you can play him something.

he cocks his head to the side and nods.

your fingers dance across strings, and when you start to sing, he realises it’s a song about him.

you once offered to be his mirror, and tonight you repeat that. your song is about how lovely he is, in every way. how he’s handsome but kinder than he wants to admit. brave. fierce.

its the most sincere celebration of his character he’s ever heard, and by the end of it, he’s left shocked.

“oh…” “did you like it?” chewing your lip, nervous.

“it’s… you’re…” he really doesn’t have the words to convey how you’ve made him feel. so he gently takes your chin in his hand and kisses you.

the kiss gets deeper. the lute is abandoned. so, really, is the picnic. the music the two of you make then is of a different kind.

later, when he has time to come up with a suitable review, he will tell you how much it meant to him. you are his favourite musician, and he has a new favourite song.

Halsin

oh, he’s been around for a long time, but this is the first time someone’s done something like this for him.

he’s just sat in bowled-over silence as you play for him, and it is amazing. an epic ode to his life and kindness, how strong and handsome you think he is.

he comes closer as you sing, sitting right next to you. studying every inch of your face as you perform.

when you’re done, he tells you that it was the loveliest thing he’s ever heard.

“I’ve heard pods of whales singing as they meet up with their lost family… until now, it was the sweetest sound to have graced my ears.”

he gets you to repeat the song and turns into different animals to enjoy it, be it via vibrations or different ways of hearing. either way he wants to be surrounded by your music, and you.

Minthara

absolutely no idea how to respond.

she was brought up in a cutthroat world. this softness is new to her.

she remains quiet for a while as she tries to work out if you’re trying to get anything from her. is this a trick?

”oh, I’m sorry,” you say after a while when she’s just been staring. “did you not like it?”

”no. no, it was… play it again.”

you do, and she really listens to the lyrics. they’re about her beauty. how glad you are to have met her. her strength in battle and soul.

she’s exceptionally moved.

“this is… a priceless gift that you’ve given me. I have no way to repay you.” “I don’t need repayment. it was freely given.”

she kisses you, for she has no way else to thank you. you have moved her more than she thought possible.

Wyll

you play and he listens. his eyes and smile go wide.

absolutely enraptured. claps when you’re done, and cheers your performance. you laugh and bow for him.

he tells you how much you mean to him, what a sweet gift this is. how your love is his most treasured possession.

he reaches into his pocket… and takes out some paper.

“I… I know this is incredible timing but actually… I wrote you something, myself.”

and he starts to read out a poem.

oh, it is lovely. full of flowery verse, and sweet appreciations of you. all the little things which make him love you. you pick up your lute and play along eventually, and he gets into the rhythm too.

the two of you laugh at the fact that you both had the same idea! you’re so alike, so in sync.

he holds you tenderly, kisses you softly.

you end up writing many songs about your Blade. he is your perfect muse.

bonus:

Karlach bursts into tears when she hears it, and scoops you up into a big hug at the end. she’s so emotional. she can’t stop saying she loves you, she loves your song, all of it. lots of wet kisses for you.

Gale is rendered speechless for the first time he can remember. he just stares at you in adoration. he’s never had anyone love him enough to write a song about him before, and he full force of his affection for you hits him in that moment. he is smitten.

#astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x tav #gale x tav #gale of waterdeep x tav #gale x reader #gale of waterdeep x reader #wyll x tav #wyll x reader #wyll ravengard x tav #wyll ravenguard x reader #karlach x tav #karlach x reader #halsin x tav #halsin x reader #minthara x reader #minthara x tav

[hookhausenschips]

Goodnight Sweetheart Goodnight

Summary: Y/N is one of the driver's of the 2026 season for Audi. A very respectable driver and cherished. But life has other plans.

Word Count: 4,365

Warnings: major character death, funeral, sad, grief, anger, accidents, mourning, race crash, angst this is very detailed

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With a promising car and a supportive team, Y/N entered the season with high hopes and determination.

The first few races of the season saw Y/N performing exceptionally well. She consistently scored points and even secured a podium finish, earning the respect and admiration of fans and competitors alike.

The sun hung low over the F1 circuit as the drivers prepared for the race of their lives. Among them was Y/N, a talented young driver, who had been making waves in the sport with her exceptional skill behind the wheel, with dreams of championship glory. The atmosphere in the Formula 1 paddock was charged with excitement as teams prepared for the highly anticipated race.

The atmosphere crackled with anticipation as engines roared to life, signaling the start of the race. 

As the lights went out, the cars surged forward, hurtling into the first corner. Y/N and Max jostled for position, their cars inches apart as they navigated the tight bends.

During a critical phase of the race, Y/N  was engaged in a heated battle for p3 with Oscar on a challenging circuit known for its tight corners and rapid elevation changes. "Aaron, this is Y/N. I'm... I'm losing control. Something's wrong with the car. I can't... I can't steer properly. It's... it's getting worse.” Y/N radioed to her team. As she approached a particularly challenging turn, Y/N's car experienced a sudden and catastrophic mechanical failure, causing her to lose control at high speed. 

“I'm trying to regain control, but it's... it's not working. The car's... it's spinning out. I can't stop it. I need... I need assistance. Aaron, I'm scared. I don't know what's happening. Please, talk to me. Keep me focused. I can see the barrier approaching. I'm... I'm bracing for impact. Oh, God. It's... it's too late. Brace for impact.”

Despite Y/N's skill and reflexes, she was unable to regain control of the car as it veered off course and collided with the barrier with significant force. The impact caused the car to spin violently before coming to a rest on the edge of the track, surrounded by debris.

"Y/N, can you hear me? Y/N, please respond. We're with you, we're here to help. Stay calm, help is on the way. You're going to be okay, Y/N. Just hold on, help is coming.” Aaron, her engineer radioed as the paddock stood still with the red flag waving. 

“Aaron, it hurts. I can't... I can't feel my legs. I need help. Please, hurry.” The girl began to panic as she tried to lift herself out of the mangled car but her body had no energy left.

“Y/N, it's Aaron. I need you to stay focused, and stay with us. You're doing great, Y/N. We're going to get you out of there. Just hang in there, help is on the way.” He replied, his heart in his throat hearing the pain and desperation in his driver’s voice. Silence followed. 

“Aaron, I'm sorry. I tried. I tried my best. Please... please tell my family... I love them. I'm... I'm trapped. I can't move. It's... it's dark. I'm scared. I don't want to die. Please, help me.” She struggled to breathe, her chest feeling like it was caving in. 

“Y/N, you're a fighter. You've faced challenges on the track before, and you've always come out stronger. You can do this. Stay strong, Y/N. We're right here beside you. Y/N, listen to my voice. Focus on your breathing. Stay conscious, Y/N. We're going to get you out of there, I promise.”

“I know it's hard, Y/N. I know it's painful. But you're not alone. We're here with you every step of the way. You're not just a driver, Y/N. You're a member of our racing family. And we take care of our own.”

“Y/N, I need you to keep fighting. You're going to make it through this. I believe in you, Y/N. You've got the heart of a champion” Aaron continued talking to the girl to keep her awake. 

“Aaron, can you hear me? Please respond. I need to know... I need to know I'm not alone. I'm losing consciousness. I can't... I can't hold on much longer. Aaron, please... don't leave me." Y/N tried to stay awake but her body finally started to shut down, the shock nearly wearing off.

“Y/N, you're not alone. We're right here with you. Stay strong, Y/N. Stay strong. We're here for you, Y/N. We're not giving up on you. Hold on, help is almost here. You're going to make it, Y/N. I believe in you." Finally, Aaron received an update that the medical team had reached Y/N.

Emergency response teams quickly arrived on the scene, extracting Y/N from the wreckage and providing immediate medical attention. 

As the scene unfolded David Croft spoke, “Ladies and gentlemen, as we witness the unfolding events on the track, our hearts are heavy with concern for Y/N, who has been involved in a serious accident. Emergency response teams are on the scene, working swiftly and diligently to extract Y/N from the wreckage and provide the urgent medical attention she requires.”

“In moments like these, the racing community comes together as one, united in our concern for the well-being of our fellow competitor and friend. We extend our deepest gratitude to the dedicated medical professionals and safety personnel who are working tirelessly to ensure Y/N receives the care she needs.” Martin Brundle added.

David Croft nodded, “As we await updates on Y/N's condition, let us take a moment to reflect on the inherent risks and challenges of competitive motorsport. Each time our drivers take to the track, they do so with courage, skill, and an unwavering commitment to pushing the limits of what is possible. But with that pursuit of excellence comes the understanding that accidents can happen, and it is in these moments that we must come together to support one another and ensure the safety and well-being of all involved.”

“Our thoughts and prayers are with Y/N and her loved ones during this difficult time. We stand united in our hope for a full and speedy recovery, knowing that the strength of the racing community and the indomitable spirit of our drivers will carry us through even the darkest of moments.” Laura Winter spoke.

“As we await further updates, let us draw strength from the bonds of camaraderie and solidarity that unite us, knowing that together, we can overcome any challenge that lies ahead. Our hearts are with you, Y/N. Stay strong, and know that you are not alone." Laura added as the camera cut back to mangled remains of Y/N’s car.

Y/N was rushed to the nearest hospital in critical condition. The entire racing community held its breath as updates on her condition trickled in. Fans around the world prayed for Y/N's recovery, hoping against hope for a miracle. Y/N was not only a talented driver but also a beloved figure among fans and colleagues alike.

Outside the hospital, a vigil was held as fans, friends, and fellow drivers gathered to show their support for Y/N and her family. Candles were lit, prayers were said, and messages of hope were written on banners and signs.

Days turned into weeks as Y/N remained unconscious in the hospital. Doctors worked tirelessly to stabilize her condition, but the prognosis remained uncertain. The racing world held its collective breath, waiting for any sign of improvement.

As Y/N fought for her life in the hospital, the racing world held its breath. The grid  often visits and sits with her, in silence or talks to her about anything and everything. Fans continued to show their solidarity and love for the young driver. The atmosphere was heavy with worry and sadness.

Y/N’s family called her colleagues and fellow drivers to the hospital. It was a week after Singapore, one of Y/N’s favorite circuits. They were hopeful that she had finally woken up. But once they had walked into the ICU and seen Y/N’s father consoling his wife they knew. They each got to say their goodbyes before the beeping sounds in her hospital room turned into silence. Like a bright star eaten by a dark hole in space, Y/N was no longer alive. The light that she had was no longer.

Tributes flooded in from all corners of the globe. Fellow drivers, team members, and fans shared memories of Y/N's remarkable career and the impact she had on the sport. The outpouring of grief was overwhelming.

As the racing community grappled with the loss, plans for Y/N's funeral began to take shape. It was to be a grand affair, fitting for a driver of Y/N's stature. The Audi team worked tirelessly to ensure every detail was perfect. The family had requested everyone wear white in memory of the light Y/N was.

In the days leading up to the funeral, a memorial was held at COTA where Y/N had achieved so much success. Drivers and fans gathered to pay their respects, sharing stories and memories of Y/N's incredible talent and spirit. 

On the day of the funeral, the streets were lined with mourners as the funeral procession made its way through the city. Flags flew at half-mast, and the atmosphere was somber as Y/N's casket was carried to the church by her pallbearers; Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, Lewis Hamilton, Lando Norris, Fernando Alonso, and her teammate at Audi; Carlos Sainz.

Fans created a makeshift memorial outside the venue, adorned with flags, banners, and memorabilia celebrating Y/N's career. Inside, a dedicated area was set up for fans to leave handwritten notes, flowers, and tokens of appreciation. A large screen displayed messages and photos shared by fans on social media, providing a digital space for the global racing community to come together and pay their respects to Y/N's enduring legacy.

Audi arranged for Y/N's race car to be positioned at the front of the venue, surrounded by floral arrangements in Audi's signature colors. The car's engine cover bore a custom decal with Y/N's racing number, 21, and a heartfelt message from the team expressing gratitude for her contributions and dedication. Teammates and crew members had placed personalized tokens of remembrance, such as race gloves or miniature trophies, around the car as a tribute to Y/N's impact on the team.

Major sports networks and broadcasters dedicated a portion of their programming to live coverage of Y/N's funeral. Special segments and live reports provide viewers with updates on the funeral proceedings, including interviews with attendees, insights from racing experts, and retrospectives on Y/N's career highlights.

Online streaming platforms and social media channels also offered live coverage of the funeral, allowing fans and supporters from around the world to participate in the commemoration of Y/N's life and legacy.

Inside the church, friends, family, and members of the racing community gathered to say their final goodbyes to Y/N. Her favorite song, ‘Forever Mine’ by The O’Jays played as everyone took their seats.

“Please rise for the family.” The preacher spoke as the doors opened revealing Y/N’s parents, her siblings, and some aunts and uncles.

The preacher stood at the front of the church. Below him lay Y/N’s customized casket. The casket is crafted from high-quality, polished wood, with a sleek and elegant design that exudes sophistication and reverence. The exterior of the casket is adorned with a custom vinyl wrap, featuring a striking racing-themed design that pays homage to Y/N's career as an F1 driver.

At the head of the casket, a large image of Y/N's race car in action is prominently displayed, surrounded by images of checkered flags, racing stripes, and other iconic symbols of motorsport. Y/N's racing number is emblazoned across the front of the casket in bold, stylized lettering, serving as a visual reminder of her identity and accomplishments on the track.

Along the sides of the casket, intricate decals and graphics depict scenes from Y/N's racing career, capturing moments of triumph, camaraderie, and determination. Images of Y/N celebrating victories on the podium, engaging with fans, and competing in thrilling races are showcased in vibrant detail, creating a dynamic and visually captivating tribute to her legacy.

The interior lining of the casket is adorned with luxurious fabric in Y/N's favorite colors, providing a comfortable and dignified resting place. Soft cushions and pillows are arranged to cradle Y/N's body with care and reverence, ensuring a peaceful and serene final rest.

At the foot of the casket, a small display area is set aside for the placement of Y/N's racing memorabilia, including her helmet, gloves, and racing suit. These cherished items serve as a tangible reminder of Y/N's passion for motorsport and her enduring legacy as a beloved figure in the racing community.

Engraved plaques and plates adorn the casket, featuring meaningful quotes, messages of remembrance, and significant dates from Y/N's life and career.

He began to read Y/N’s eulogy, “As we gather here today to honor the life and legacy of Y/N, it is with heavy hearts that we bid farewell to a beloved figure whose presence illuminated the world of motorsport and touched the lives of all who had the privilege of knowing her. Though her time with us was tragically cut short, Y/N leaves behind a legacy of excellence, passion, and sportsmanship that will forever be remembered and cherished by all who had the honor of witnessing her remarkable journey.”

Silent cries and sniffles could be heard. “Y/N was born on May 3rd, 2001 in Shreveport, where she quickly developed a passion for racing that would shape the course of her life and career. From an early age, Y/N exhibited a natural talent and determination behind the wheel, honing her skills in karting competitions before making her mark on the world stage as a rising star in the world of Formula 1.”

Fans outside and around the world hugged one another as they watched. “Throughout her illustrious career, Y/N achieved numerous milestones and accolades, earning the admiration and respect of fans, teammates, and competitors alike. Her skill, agility, and unwavering commitment to excellence set her apart as one of the most formidable drivers of her generation, with each race serving as a testament to her indomitable spirit and unwavering passion for the sport she loved.”

“Off the track, Y/N was known for her humility, kindness, and generosity, touching the lives of countless individuals through her charitable work, mentorship of aspiring young racers, and dedication to giving back to the racing community. Whether signing autographs for adoring fans, visiting children's hospitals, or supporting worthy causes, Y/N's impact extended far beyond the confines of the racetrack, leaving an indelible mark on the hearts and minds of all who had the privilege of knowing her.” The air felt heavy inside the walls of the church.

“Tragically, Y/N's journey was cut short, leaving behind a legacy that will forever be remembered and cherished by all who had the honor of knowing her. Though she may no longer be with us in body, her spirit lives on in the memories we hold dear, in the lessons we have learned, and in the enduring legacy of sportsmanship, camaraderie, and dedication to excellence that she leaves behind.”

“In the words of the poet Alfred Lord Tennyson, 'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.' Y/N's life was a testament to the power of love, passion, and perseverance, and though we mourn her loss, let us also celebrate the joy and inspiration she brought into our lives. May Y/N rest in peace, knowing that she will be forever cherished, forever remembered, and forever loved. Amen."

Amen’s were murmured amongst the crowd. “I was speaking to the family to gain some insight on what kind of person Y/N was. One story that stood out to me was when she placed a snake in the cracked open window in their bathroom while her brother was in the shower. He ran out of the house with no towel and suds still in his hair.” The preacher spoke as he stepped down and around Y/N’s casket. Tear-filled laughter rose in the air.

“Does anyone have any stories or anything they would like to share about Y/N? You can remain where you are or you can come up to the mic as well.” He concluded. Many people from family members to childhood friends and colleagues spoke up about the young woman they loved. 

“The track feels emptier without Y/N's presence. Her laughter, her passion, her drive – all silenced too soon, leaving us to navigate a world dimmed by her absence." Daniel spoke up. 

Her parents walked up to the mic together, “As parents, we watched Y/N grow into a fearless competitor, always striving for excellence on and off the track. Her determination and courage were truly remarkable. Y/N's presence illuminated every corner of our lives. Her smile, her spirit, and her love for racing will remain etched in our hearts forever.” Her father’s voice shook.

Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, not really grasping that his daughter was gone. “Though Y/N's time with us was cut short, her impact on the racing world was immense. She lived her life with purpose and left behind a legacy that will endure for generations. We are grateful for the outpouring of love and support from the racing community. Your unwavering kindness during this difficult time has been a source of comfort for our family.”

“Y/N's journey may have ended, but her spirit will continue to race on in the hearts of those who knew and loved her. We will cherish the memories we shared and honor her legacy with each lap we take.Today, we say goodbye to Y/N, a true champion in every sense of the word. May her passion for racing and her indomitable spirit inspire us to live each day to the fullest, just as she did." Her mother finished as she wiped away her tears while placing a hand a on her baby girl’s casket.

“Y/N's love for racing was infectious. She shared her victories and setbacks with humility and grace, teaching me the true meaning of sportsmanship and resilience. Her memory will forever inspire me to strive for greatness." Lando spoke before sending a watery smile to her family and then passing the mic to Yuki, “Y/N was not just a competitor on the track; she was a true friend and a remarkable talent. Her spirit and dedication will forever inspire us all."

A montage featuring a collection of photographs spanning Y/N's life and career, capturing moments of joy, determination, and triumph both on and off the track. It included images of Y/N as a child, competing in karting competitions, celebrating victories on the podium, and forging friendships with fellow drivers and teammates. Candid shots of Y/N interacting with fans, signing autographs, and participating in charity events are also included, showcasing her warmth, generosity, and humanity.

Interspersed with the photographs are video clips of Y/N in action on the racetrack, showcasing her skill, agility, and competitive spirit. Footage from memorable races, thrilling overtakes, and championship-winning moments, is set against the backdrop of roaring engines and cheering crowds. Slow-motion shots of Y/N navigating hairpin turns, battling adverse weather conditions, and crossing the finish line in victory  capture the essence of her prowess as a racing driver.

In addition to her achievements on the track, intimate glimpses into Y/N's personal life, highlighting moments of joy, love, and connection with family and friends. Images of Y/N celebrating holidays, milestones, and special occasions with loved ones, as well as candid snapshots of quiet moments of reflection and contemplation.

The montage concluded with a reflection on Y/N's legacy and impact on the world of motorsport, accompanied by a final video clip that encapsulates her enduring spirit and the indelible mark she left on the racing community. 

Soon music began to play, some sang along and some cried hearing the lyrics. “Goodnight Sweetheart Goodnight", "The Thrill Is Gone", "Wind Beneath My Wings", and “You Raise Me Up". 

Somewhere Over the Rainbow" by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole began to play and everyone stood as Y/N’s casket was wheeled to the back of the church. Soon people were escorted to the back to say their goodbyes before lining up outside of the church. There Y/N lay in an eternal slumber. She looked beautiful, her hair done to perfection as well as her makeup. She wore a dark navy blue dress, the same one she wore to the F1 award ceremony the year prior. Many people kissed her hand or forehead while whispering tear-filled goodbyes.

Her casket shined in the sun as the boys carried their fellow driver and friend out of the church and placed her in the back of the hearse. The car is a sleek Audi sedan, the Audi A8, chosen for its elegance and association with the Audi racing team. It was meticulously cleaned and polished for the occasion, with the Audi logo prominently displayed on the hood and doors. Black and silver ceremonial flags bearing the Audi emblem are affixed to the front fenders, fluttering gently in the breeze as the car leads the procession. 

Y/N’s parents and siblings, Audi team members, fellow F1 drivers, and racing personnel travel in a convoy of vehicles provided by Audi, each meticulously maintained and adorned with custom decals and black ribbons. Additional vehicles, including Audi sedans and SUVs, follow closely behind, carrying team members, drivers, and their families, all wearing formal attire and displaying visible signs of mourning, black armbands, or lapel pins. Local law enforcement agencies coordinated with event organizers to ensure the safety and security of participants and spectators, maintaining order and facilitating the smooth passage of the procession through city streets and intersections.

Fans and supporters of Y/N gathered along the designated funeral route, lining the streets with flags, banners, and homemade signs bearing messages of love and remembrance. Some fans brought their vehicles to join the procession, decorating them with decals, flags, and tributes to Y/N, creating a moving tableau of solidarity and support. 

Law enforcement officers from the local police department provide a formal escort for the funeral procession, comprising motorcycle officers, patrol cars, and even mounted police units. The lead motorcycle officers clear the way ahead of the procession, stopping traffic at intersections and directing pedestrians to maintain a respectful distance, while patrol cars follow alongside and behind the procession, ensuring that the route remains secure and orderly throughout its duration. The presence of law enforcement lends an air of solemnity and reverence to the proceedings, underscoring the significance of Y/N's passing and the importance of honoring her memory with dignity and respect. 

A designated area within the cemetery, near Y/N's final resting place, is prepared for the graveside service. A simple altar is set up, adorned with floral arrangements and a photograph of Y/N during her first win as an F1 driver in Spa. Attendees gathered around in a semi-circle, with seating provided for elderly or disabled mourners.

Racing honors included the display of Y/N's racing helmet, gloves, or other memorabilia, as well as the revving of engines by fellow drivers in attendance, symbolizing a final salute to their colleague and friend.

Lewis, Charles, Lando, Max, Fernando, and Carlos carefully lower Y/N's casket onto the apparatus before the casket is lowered into the ground while mourners gather around to offer their final farewells. Roses were being tossed in the air towards her lowering casket as the hymn, Take Me To The King flowed through the air. The gravesite is adorned with flowers, wreaths, and racing-themed decorations, reflecting Y/N's passion for motorsports and the love and respect she had inspired in others.

Following the funeral, leading motorsport publications and broadcasters dedicated special segments and articles to Y/N's career, featuring highlights from her most memorable races and interviews with colleagues, competitors, and mentors who knew her well. A commemorative video montage showcasing Y/N's greatest achievements and defining moments played, accompanied by stirring music and narration honoring her legacy and lasting impact on the sport.

In the weeks following the funeral, the racing world slowly began to adjust to life without Y/N. Tributes continued to pour in, and the impact of Y/N's passing was felt deeply by all who knew her.

For Y/N's friends and family, finding closure was a difficult journey. They leaned on each other for support, cherishing the memories they shared with Y/N and finding solace in the knowledge that her legacy would live on.

As the F1 season continued, the absence of Y/N was keenly felt on the track. Competitors raced with heavy hearts, their minds filled with thoughts of their fallen comrade. But they knew that Y/N would want them to continue doing what they loved.

Throughout the season, tributes to Y/N were a common sight at racetracks around the world. From moments of silence to specially designed liveries, the racing community came together to honor the memory of the legendary driver.

As the season drew to a close, the battle for the championship intensified. Drivers pushed themselves to the limit, determined to claim victory in honor of Y/N's memory. It was a fitting tribute to a driver who had given so much to the sport.

As the dust settled on the season, the racing world took a moment to reflect on Y/N's legacy. Her impact on the sport was undeniable, and her memory would live on in the hearts of fans and drivers alike for years to come.

As the racing community mourned the loss of Y/N, they also looked to the future with hope and optimism. They knew that Y/N would want them to continue pushing the boundaries of the sport, always striving for greatness.

In the end, Y/N's legacy was not just about winning races or championships. It was about the passion, dedication, and sportsmanship she brought to the sport every day. Her spirit would forever be a guiding light for future generations of drivers.

“Though Y/N may no longer be with us, her spirit lives on in the hearts of all who knew her. She may have crossed the finish line for the final time, but her legacy will endure, inspiring generations of racers to come.” Charles spoke as he held his championship placing a hand over his heart having felt Y/N’s presence there one last time, the entire paddock felt her spirit. Warm and comforting as a final montage of her F1 career played on the screen in front of the world for the final time.

‘Goodnight, sweetheart

Well, it's time to go

Goodnight, sweetheart

Well, it's time to go

I hate to leave you, but I really must say

Oh, goodnight, sweetheart, goodnight’

#x black fem reader #x black!fem!reader #x reader #x black!reader #x black reader #formula 1 #formula one #mclaren formula 1 #ferrari formula one #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fic #max verstappen #lewis hamilton #lando norris #f1 x black!reader #formula one fanfiction #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #f1 x oc

[ahli-stuff]

The Corinthian: more than an object but less than a human and a wretched reflection of his creator

My obsession with the Corinthian is so funny because at first it's like ok. Cool. He's this gay serial killer nightmare with creator issues who's turns out to be a charming antagonist while he's pitted against dream and going about his nefarious plans on screen. What's not to love?

But then there's the next layer of oh...he has preferences and quirks and interests, but he's not a person enough to be a human he's a tool.. that's why he gets unmade in the middle of the street by his lord!! That he had a couple millennia of history with!! Because it's easy.. Dream has the blueprints, therefore remaking the Corinthian and editing out these faulty design aspects is pragmatic. It's efficient. It's less effort and way less emotionally taxing that trying to wrangle in your rogue creation and trying coax them back into doing their job. A human makes a mistake, you correct and reprimand them and offer a better course of action. But if your wrench rusts, you throw it away and buy a new one. It doesn't matter if it's your prized or even your favorite wrench, if it's been rusted to the point of uselessness, you toss it.

And the Corinthian, the agonized wrench, can probably only think: "Did I really mean so little to you?"

I think it totally fucks with his mind. The fact that Dream refers to the Corinthian as his masterpiece and yet he is still lesser in every form of his being—his agency is lesser in every form.

But you can't really blame Dream, can you?

Dream treats the corinthans agency like he treats his own—unnegotiable. For him, it has always been perform your function or die.

Dream: We are, each of us, born with responsibilities. Even I am not free to choose to be other than what I am.

And the Corinthian, in his own eye teeths, has performed his prescribed duty perfectly without hesitation or fail for thousands of years as well and worn as a well used knife—but he knows he can do more, so he does. Because if his function is to chase and slaughter in the dreaming, what's to say can't do it in the waking too?

Besides, in the waking, he's realer. More combobulated. More valued. If you're a mirror for long enough you start to crave a look of your own.

And oh, even with the thrill of newfound freedom, he loves his lord. He's eager for to give to him—to share with him—everything that's ever been dreamed of. In the Corinthians long, long, life he has only ever had his purpose and his lord and for a while that was enough, but his expectations evolve, he changes.

And that's really what dooms him.

Over the course of The Sandman you can see that looking deeper into Dream's ideology "perform your function or die" reveals one of the true themes of the sandman which is "change yourself or die." The Corinthian, whether intentionally or unintentionally serves as a mirror to dreams own character arc and the way dream treats himself.

Like how people put facets of themselves in their original characters, I think that in the corinthian Dream put a version of his own insatiable hunger; to break every rule, to run freely, to enjoy hedonistically. In creating the Corinthian as a mirror Dream unknowingly reflected a distorted face of one of his own buried desires—and i think he couldn’t accept that.

The Corinthian even calls dream out for it at the serial convention (even though he's advocating for murder) he's also jabbing at Dream's unwillingness to show emotional vulnerability and the cage he's built around himself.

Corinthian: Or you might actually feel something.

The dream the Corinthian knows he always cared exceptionally little for humans save for a select few, so what remains is this. Dream might've cared for the Corinthian, but he would unmake him, his prized creation, not for any moral justice, not for a personal slight, but for his rules and nothing else.

For the corinthian, who has spent years upon years upon years with his lord, fighting in his wars, chasing after his approval, pouring every ounce of love and loyalty to him—it stings.

And then there's this scene.

Dream: You're right. This was my fault, not yours. I had so much hope for you. But I created you poorly then.

This is the Corinthian, knowing he is about to die, spilling his frustration and spite to his creator for maybe the first and last time and trying, desperately, to make dream understand that none of this is fair (it's never been, for either of them. It's been the function and nothing else for an eternity but they could be happy.)

This is Dream purposely misinterpreting the Corinthian in the way that is guaranteed to hurt the him the most. Dream, with a writer's indifference, reduces the Corinthian's complicated desperate desire for freedom, rebellion, and his creator's love to his typo. Like a character’s grievance towards their writer, like a man’s outrage towards their god, Dream decides not to deign the corinthian with even the right to call his treason his own. He will not even let him have that bit of agency. No, Dream made the Corinthian wrong.

And then Boyd Holbrook does a phenomenal piece of acting here—he knows how to play evil and charming so well but the Corinthian’s vulnerability is so starkly on display it feels like a knife.

And when you imagine he is about to burst into bloody tears and anguished final words, this is how it ends: they leave each other cruel and jagged, because the corinthian will not end pathetic and he will have the last word.

The Corinthian: I am only sorry I won’t be here to see Rose Walker do the same to you.

The first Corinthian never gets a happy ending.

I don’t think there’s any universe where he doesn’t bite more than he’s allowed to and there is no world where he can really be forgiven. As there is no universe where Morpheus Dream does not stubbornly tie himself to his function and hurt himself and those around him with his pride.

In objectification and the inability to change, they exist as wretched mirrors of each other: The first Corinthian, sick of his function and executed for abandoning it, and Dream, unendurably tired, taking his sister's hand in his when he can no longer bear to perform his duty.

#sandman spoilers #this is literally just me going on a long winded and poorly organized tangent 😭 #the sandman #the corinthian #dream of the endless #corintheus #character analysis #musings #long post

[supersaiyanjedi14]

RWBY COMBAT ANALYSIS: THE RUSTED KNIGHT

“I’m sorry, I… I know I’m not okay. I- I’m not right, but… How am I supposed to be…? I’ve been alone… for SO… LONG! Here… On that bridge… I was the only one that could do it! I was the ONLY ONE! And I… And now I have to live with that forever… In here or back home…”

PHYSICAL

After falling into the Ever After during the Atlas exodus, Jaune Arc stumbled across a Clockwork Orange, an item that forcibly sent him back in time.  Unable to return to the present, Jaune was forced to spend the subsequent years braving the dangers of the Ever After as he awaited Team RWBY to finally join him, eventually taking up the alias of the Rusted Knight, a supposedly fantastical character of the fairy tale The Girl Who Fell Through the World.  By the time he finally reunited with his friends, Jaune had spent anywhere from ten to twenty years in the Ever After, placing him in his early-to-late thirties during the events of Volume 9.  While ostensibly still in his physical prime, Jaune’s aging was far from graceful, his blonde hair and beard streaked with gray and his weathered features betraying the trials of his tenure.  His mental strain was even more pronounced, his failure to revive Penny Polendina driving him into an obsessive preoccupation with protecting those around him, latching on to keeping the Paper Pleasers intact despite their frequent attempts at Ascension.

Despite his premature aging, Jaune still retained his athletic viability as the Rusted Knight, continuing to demonstrate his exceptional strength and agility.  His physical might was sufficient to overpower Jabberwalkers on a fairly regular basis and even stagger the Curious Cat with physical combat after the creature possessed the body of Neopolitan.  While still disinclined to employ acrobatics, Rusted Jaune was quick on his feet, covering ground with running charges and employing balanced footwork and evasions to keep his target in his crosshairs.  Furthermore, he grew into an exceptional equestrian and mounted warrior, expertly working alongside his jackalope mount Juniper on multiple occasions.  Though he failed to catch the Curious Cat before it could possess Neo’s body and was later overpowered by the Furious Cat, this is no sign of weakness in either area given the Afteran’s overwhelming physical might.  Where Jaune's athletic performance differed the most was in his dexterity and reflexes, something he was forced to develop in response to his damaged weapon and no doubt honed by his experience in the Ever After.  With a much shorter blade than he was used to, Jaune was forced to rely more on technique and precision when fighting than brute force, targeting the weakest link and striking accurately.

Regarding Jaune's physical tolerances, he remained an extremely capable endurance fighter, focusing through hits and continuing to fight afterwards.  During the battle with the Curious Cat, Jaune soaked up several major hits from the Cat and was later accidentally hurled from the arena by Weiss, yet he was only minorly disabled by this, regaining his feet and continuing to provide tactical support for Weiss, Blake and Yang.  It was only after the Cat transformed into the Furious Cat, it’s exceptionally more powerful form, and struck Jaune square in the chest that his Aura broke and he was out of the fight.  During his time as the Rusted Knight, he was noted for multiple harrowing adventures that tested his mettle, and he was even able to survive being poisoned by Alyx despite having little in the way of medical attention.  However, Jaune's stamina was surprisingly cut short in his elder state.  While he did not burn out immediately, he was still subdued at the Tree far quicker than his allies, his Aura breaking before any of theirs had even flickered.  Far more detrimental was Jaune’s mental fortitude.  While his will to persevere and fight remained indominable, his previous failures left him with an obsession with protecting his charges, leaving him anxious and prone to angered outbursts.  However, despite his limited composure, the Rusted Knight retained his dogged determination even when under duress, and pushing him to the point of no return would be an uphill battle for anyone.

Despite the severe state of disrepair it had fallen into, Jaune’s armor remained strong and effective, and had in fact been further supplemented with additional plating.  The cuirass was upgraded to provide greater coverage over his abdomen, while his pauldrons were replaced with a heavier set, though the gauntlets remained unchanged.  He added to this with a full helmet, greaves, tassets, and a codpiece, under which he wore a gambeson and beige trousers.

RANKING: Tier 2, Peak Human Fitness

Despite his less than graceful aging and deteriorating mental health, the Rusted Knight has not actually underperformed significantly in the realm of physical ability, and he still solidly qualifies for Peak Human Fitness.  He is a battle-hardened endurance fighter who leverages his strongest attributes for maximum effect, supplementing his grounded stalwart posture with solid mobility and top-notch equipment.  In fact, I'd argue that Jaune’s upgraded armor serves as a solid compromise for his undercut stamina and discipline by bolstering his native durability.  The Rusted Knight may be at greater risk of breaking than he once was, but the only way to put him down would be to shatter him completely.

MARTIAL

As the Rusted Knight, Jaune Arc continued to carry Crocea Mors as his primary weapon, but time and damage had taken a significant toll on it.  The blade of the sword was snapped in half as a result of his confrontation with Cinder Fall, reducing its length to barely over a foot.  Far more noticeable was the severe degree of rust and wear on the blade and shield, with numerous pits and scratches had made their way into the metal.  However, despite this long-term damage, the weapon set retained its combative reliability, as the sword remained sharp enough to dispatch Jaune’s opponents, while the mechanisms allowing the shield to convert into Jaune’s scabbard remained unaffected.  Overall, looks are deceiving, and Crocea Mors remains a lethal killing tool.

When analyzing the Rusted Knight’s capabilities as a martial artist, it is important to note both the substantial degree of development he attained and the significant trade off in his skill configuration.  Due to being thrust back in time, Jaune was forced to spend anywhere from ten to twenty years contending with the dangers of the Ever After, a grinding trial by fire that went a long way towards compensating for his most significant weakness prior to Volume 9, his inexperience and lack of development.  While the reliability and details of Lewis’s recounts of Jaune in The Girl Who Fell Through the World has not been established, even a conservative assessment would place the Rusted Knight as comparable to many of the most experienced and skilled Huntsmen on Remnant.  However, between his damaged weapon and limited resources, Jaune was forced to heavily reconfigure his fighting style to compensate, resulting in a similar but very different combatant compared to what he was beforehand.  Fortunately, the aforementioned decades of isolation gave Jaune plenty of time to refine his new style with his limitations in mind, and his developed skill upon reuniting with Team RWBY was, at bare minimum, comparable to theirs.  Despite the handicaps imposed on him by his weapon, Jaune’s technique remained similar in its core ingredients; a grounded defense-and-counter oriented fighter who leverages physical ability through simple and direct swordplay.  He retained a stalwart grounded posture in his footwork, eschewing acrobatics for sidesteps and evasions.  Where the differences presented itself were in the defense/offense balance.  Rusted Jaune displayed a much stronger offensive component in his style, alternating between shield blocks and sword strikes far more actively.  To compensate for his shorter blade, Jaune adjusted his swordplay to perform swifter and tighter slashes and stabs, getting in close before laying into the target.  The most significant additions to Jaune’s skill set were his expanded use of his weapons, his integration of hand-to-hand combat techniques, and his proficiency as a mounted warrior.  He swapped techniques for his sword and shield, warding parries for the former and shield bashes with the latter, using the weapon set to mor effectively maintain offensive pressure while maintaining defensive coverage.  Though still not a committed unarmed fighter, Jaune was more than willing to throw hands in battle, staggering the Curious Cat with sweeping kicks and headbutts.  His strong bond with Juniper allowed him to coordinate and utilize her for multiple combative purposes, from tackling targets to serving as a cushion to safeguard her master.

While Jaune’s deteriorating mental health made him an anxious wreck in the grand scheme of things, they did nothing to diminish his capabilities as a tactician and strategist.  He continued to demonstrate his strong aptitude for tactical analysis and coordinating with his allies, adjusting his approach to suit the opponent and exploit circumstantial factors.  When confronting the various Jabberwalkers summoned by Neopolitan, Jaune focused on repelling the creatures and warding off their advance before turning around to counter.  Against the Curious Cat at the Tree, Jaune quickly deduced the hallucinogenic effects of its leaves and ordered Weiss, Blake and Yang to set fire to them, forcibly expelling the Cat from Neo’s body.  In single combat, Jaune applied these same tactics to endure the opponent’s assault before retaliating, seizing the initiative rather than passively responding.  However, where Jaune previously relied on the integration of his Dust gadgets to break the opponent’s advance, he now opted for abrupt alternation between offensive and defensive movements, pressuring the opponent while still maintaining coverage.  He will break off to defend if need be, but he will not stop advancing.  What Vomit Boy achieved through leaning on alternative equipment, the Rusted Knight achieved through tested and developed technique.

However, while Jaune’s new approach was more developed overall, it also came at the expense of the versatility he displayed in his youth.  With his damaged weapon and limited-to-unapplicable alternative tools, Jaune’s style and tactics were ultimately centered around leveraging his core technique for maximum effect.  Jaune’s style may have been flexible, but it was also very singular and direct; what you see is what you get.  Additionally, Jaune’s emotional instability manifested itself most profoundly in a resurgence of his youthful recklessness.  Disturbed by his failure to save Penny during the exodus, Jaune became obsessed with protecting his chosen charges from everything around them, including themselves.  Aside from patronizing the Paper Pleasers, this mentality led to Jaune overexerting himself and biting off more than he could chew, his refusal to stop advancing stemming from a pathological unwillingness to give up.  Where Jaune’s Beacon humbling motivated him to pace himself and fight smart, his Atlas failures compelled him to run himself ragged in a misguided effort to keep fighting.  As seen in the Cat’s Penny and Pyrrha illusions, this failure to take a more measured approach fed into a weakness to more subversive tricks and distractions, ironically making him vulnerable to the very tactics he once employed himself.

RANKING: Tier 3: Standard Mastery

While Jaune’s failures as the Rusted Knight seem to point to a middling level of effectiveness, his improvements and experience still more than qualify him for a Tier 3 ranking.  He is a gritty, battle-hardened warrior whose style had been developed and honed into a far more complete package than he once employed, and he remains a highly capable tactical thinker when he puts his mind to it.  Jaune’s problem, like many Standard Masters, is that he has fallen into the trap of going through the motions, basically doing the same thing again and again in every battle when dropped in cold.  To be fair to Jaune, this is more the result of a limited arsenal and lack of comparable enemies rather than damaging oversights.  The baseline reliability of his style and approach cannot be denied; he simply hasn’t meshed it with the versatility he used to have.  Regardless, the fact that he came closer to killing the Curious Cat than anyone else tells me that his fabled reputation is very well-earned.

SPECIAL

And now for the part of this analysis that I’ve been dreading, that being the assessment of the Rusted Knight’s special abilities and powers.  This is the area where Jaune’s development is most unclear simply because, aside from a few uses of his gravity Dust, we never really saw him do anything in Volume 9.  He never explicitly used Aura Amp on screen, and the times he used his Dust could be counted on the fingers of one hand.  This is especially odd given Jaune’s ready use of his abilities prior to falling into the Ever After, especially in conjunction with his martial skills.  However, I do believe that both discrepancies can be reasonably inferred given context.  Firstly, it must be remembered that Jaune’s last recorded attempt to use his Semblance was on Penny Polendina, whose injuries he was utterly incapable of healing.  Given his failure to save Penny was arguably the single strongest contributor to his psychological breakdown in his isolation, it follows that his confidence in his abilities was shattered, and he unconsciously avoided using his powers due to the weight of that failure.  While I don’t believe Jaune’s proficiency with his Semblance truly atrophied, I also don’t believe he developed his powers beyond what he could do in the Atlas saga.  As far as his Dust is concerned, I see his limited use being identical to the limitations of his sword, that being logistical shortages.  There is no evidence that Dust exists in the Ever After, much less the incredibly rare synthetic hard-light variety that powered his shield panels.  With nothing to replenish his stores should his shield get damaged, it’s plausible that Jaune refrained from using his Dust unless he absolutely had to, conserving a non-renewable resource and otherwise relying on physical combat.

However, this isn’t to say that Rusted Knight Jaune has no ethereal talents to speak of.  He did in fact continue to utilize his gravity Dust repulsor in combat, and like his martial skills, his fluidity with it had clearly improved with practice.  Previously, Jaune would simply use the pressure wave from a static position, allowing the shield to do most of the heavy lifting.  Now, Jaune demonstrated a far more active defense, combining the gravity waves with sweeping shield bashes.  Though never outright stated, I believe this technique allowed Jaune to slightly enhance the overall power of the repulsor’s push, getting more bang for his buck.  Additionally, Jaune continued to demonstrate his talent for combining his powers and skills together with one another.  Aside from the basic offensive applications, Jaune also showcased an ability to use his Dust to drive his other weapons, seen when he bounced his sword off the shield to turn it into a projectile against Neo’s clone Jabberwalkers.  These new applications further showcased Jaune compensating for his limited arsenal with greater skill and refinement, sacrificing output in favor of control.

Now, normally I like to stay with concrete information rather than headcanons, but I do believe there may be evidence that Jaune did in fact use his Semblance at specific points in Volume 9, and both of my theoretical examples do speak to him still displaying great skill and power.  Hear me out;

During his early travels with Alyx, Lewis and the Curious Cat, the Cat poisoned Jaune in order to get him off his back and sow distrust between him and the children.  While Jaune’s physical fortitude certainly played a role in his survival, the Curious Cat is not a figure that comes across as leaving a job half-finished.  Given that Aura Amp’s most obvious application was accelerating Aura’s healing properties, it is entirely possible that Jaune’s survival owed itself in part to using his Semblance to help purge the toxin from his body.  Later, during the battle at the Tree, Jaune was confronted with a vision of Alyx after being blasted from the arena.  While this episode was mostly a mental battle forcing Jaune to confront his demons, the flash of light that immediately preceded Jaune breaking out of the vision could have very well been Jaune using Aura Amp to dispel the effects of the smoke.  Assuming I’m right, then this could arguably make Jaune’s use of his Semblance even more potent than before, as dispelling drugs and poisons is easily an incredibly useful talent to have that goes well beyond fixing broken bones.

RANKING: Tier 3: Specialized Combat

Even if my supposition is 100% on the money, it does not significantly change the Rusted Knight’s standing as an ethereal fighter, given his hypothetical applications are so few, far between, and limited to utility.  That said, Jaune’s use of his gravity Dust more than makes up for it.  His applications are not only just as calculated and powerful as they used to be, they are also far more technically sophisticated and pair up much better with his fighting skills.  His only real limitation, as in other areas, is that he lacks versatility, and his more skillful use of his power still mostly amounts to a directly offensive ability that can only do so much.  Jaune may lack the variety he used to have, but the far greater skill he has with the powers he still has firmly establishes him as a force to be reckoned with.

OVERALL RANKING: TIER 3, ADVANCED HUNTSMAN

As in his youth, Rusted Knight Jaune Arc’s overall ranking is determined by his martial skills and special abilities, showcasing both his high improvement and the limitations he still suffers from.  In all areas, Jaune is performing on a very high level, but his methodology is centered on direct application rather than the balanced versatility he used to showcase.  In many ways, I consider Jaune’s most direct analogue in this state to be James Ironwood.  Both are aging heavyweights who leverage their strength and fortitude for maximum effect, both are grounded heavy-handed fighters who focus on maintaining a heavy stalwart advance, and both leverage their special abilities and powers as direct supplements to their offensive advance.  They are powerful battlefield operatives who make full use of all the tools in their arsenals, but their approach is based on the direct application of power, not tactical considerations.  By operating as a one-man crusader in the Ever After, Jaune got so good at what he was doing that he simply couldn’t loose, leaving holes in his skill set and tactics unaddressed because they simply never came up.

Jaune’s greatest strength and weakness as the Rusted Knight is that his previously broad skill set has been significantly reduced, forcing him to throw all of his eggs into one basket to compensate.  The result is a tradeoff.  On the one hand, his fighting method is blessed with a substantially greater degree of developed skill by way of his combat experience, and he effectively blends them together into a singular, high-performance technique.  But on the other hand, this also means that he no longer has the versatility he used to have, relying on a singular method rather than balancing out between his options.  He is skilled and powerful enough to capably overcome the vast majority of challengers, but it also means he could get into trouble very quickly if confronted by someone his style is poorly suited to engage. 

As with most things, this ties directly into Jaune’s mental state as the Rusted Knight.  Between his traumatic experiences, forced isolation, and fixation on preventing the same failure all over again, Jaune simply fell into the motions and got into the habit of doing the same thing over and over again.  This may have been an okay coping mechanism at first, but there is a stark difference between dedication and obsession.  He never really diversified because, not only did he never really need to, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so since he was convinced that he was doing the only right thing he could.  Fortunately, unlike Ironwood, Jaune’s self-destructive stubbornness was the result of improper healing rather than arrogance, and he was the first to admit that he wasn’t in the right headspace to be the hero he was trying to be.  As with the rest of his life, Jaune’s friends were there to pick him up, setting him on the path to properly heal.  Whatever Jaune’s status as a warrior may be upon his return to Remnant, he will at the very least be on the fast track to achieving a healthier self-actualization, and finally move on from his trauma.  The Rusted Knight may not have been the hero, but Jaune Arc still may be.

* images taken from RWBY Wiki and @talia-pumpkinwand*

#rwby #rwby combat analysis #jaune arc #rwby jaune #rusted knight #ever after #team jnpr #peak human fitness #standard mastery #specialized combat

[enby-axels]

incredible how kishimoto repeatedly asserts that naruto and itachi chose sasuke over the village, when in fact the exact opposite is true. itachi tortured him, took away his entire commmunity, tried to brainwash him. naruto's grand solution was murder-suicide and even after learning the truth about the massacre, he still wanted to be hokage and was confused by sasuke's refusal to forgive and return. they both aligned themselves with the village, but the simple act of performative love for sasuke is enough (according to kishimoto and konoha) for them to be considered exceptionally pacifistic, self-sacrificing characters who defied the village. it's such a fucked moral standard that offers zero compassion to the real victim of the situation: sasuke

#sskposting #pro sasuke #anti konoha #anti itachi #anti naruto

[griancraft]

Hi guys, this is sort of my official "please, for the love of god, listen to Skyjacks with me” post because I’m losing my mind and all the content I can find is from the latest stuff right now, and I don’t want to spoil myself. I want to be able to talk about this with people!!!! I will make a watch (listen) party discord if there is enough interest. Just give it a chance; you won’t regret it. Also, some information may be wrong or outdated. I’m on episode 11 out of over 200.

Skyjacks is a ttrpg podcast about sky pirates in a world where there was a catastrophe about 200 years ago that left the sea unsafe to sail and maybe even damaged the entire world to the point where civilization is scattered and in small groups. There is very casual queer rep, and it’s casual to the point where it really just fits into the world perfectly.

A brief summary of the premise of the first episode will hopefully get you hooked. I’m really bad at summaries, but I promise it’s a billion times better than how I talked about it here:

Captain Orimar Vale is dead, and a mutiny will be on Gable, Jonnit, Travis, and Dref’s hands if they are unable to keep up the ruse of him being alive. To do this, necromancy (deeply forbidden magic) is performed by the Dref, the ship's doctor, to turn him into a semi-functional zombie. Captain Orimar is famous for his abilities as a captain; to replicate this will take great skill.

As they run out of supplies, they make a desperate decision: port on the land of one of Orimar’s scorned lovers or deal with the growing uneasiness of the rest of the crew. They haven’t seen their captain healthy in months, and whispers about his health are starting. However, greater danger will await them when they take to the skies again, lurking just beyond the clouds…

And more propaganda as to why I think you guys will like it:

There are unique and interesting gameplay mechanics they use to tell a really cool story, and if you like Hermitcraft or any other sorta storytelling-based SMP, I promise you’ll like it. Like. If you liked Boatem from Hermitcraft 8, you’ll love the characters in Skyjacks. The players are exceptionally good at playing their characters, their humour is unmatched by anything similar I’ve had the pleasure of seeing, and the story is prioritized, which I think is an amazing choice.

Best part? It’s still ongoing after, like, 5 years. Some people have left, but a good chunk of the OG cast has stayed. Not that leaving is bad, because holy crap, 5 years is a long time, and stories have to end at some point! It’s a good way of getting into something and knowing there is still a shit ton of content to be explored.

The music is good. The story is good. The characters and humour are amazing. The lore of the world is sprinkled throughout, and as you learn more about the world, the more excited you get. It’s incredible so far, and if you decide to listen to it, I will actually love you forever and ever. My boyfriend is on episode 190, and he finds it so funny every time I go. Oh my god, this is so cool.

Link to the podcast, but in a playlist (up to 180). So it’s in order and easy to find, since it’s a part of something else from the oneshot network:

#I need you guys to get into skyjacks I cannot do this alone #Can’t even look in the skyjacks tag for fan art to loose my mind about because I am literally over 200 1hr+ episodes BEHIND #I promise it is so worth it #I’m almost done episode 11 : #which is so so early so it would be very easy to catch up to me #I’m going to reblog this once a day or so I think #collapses in a heap of dust this post was never supposed to be this long #also please don’t spoil me if you’re ahead or get ahead guys istg i will kill you with my bare hands I’ll put my episode number in my pinne #ack tags too long #me when I infodump for 45 minutes straight when I should be working on my final essay #I’m dragging you fuckers kicking and screaming. Please guys. #I realize now this will like definitely show up in the tags but honestly I don’t know if that matters

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Vivien Leigh (Gone with the Wind, A Streetcar Named Desire)—Leigh is exceptionally beautiful. To quote Garson Kanin, Leigh was "a stunner whose ravishing beauty often tended to obscure her staggering achievements as an actress. Great beauties are infrequently great actresses—simply because they don't need to be. Vivien was different; ambitious, persevering, serious, often inspired." She was an actor's actor, one of those big old-school theatre dames, full of drama and temper.

Wendy Hiller (Pygmalion, I Know Where I'm Going)—Wendy Hiller didn't make that many movies but when she starred in one she was So.Good. she usually walked away with the film. One of the best actresses in the classic talkies era period (1930s-1950s) she was nominated for three Academy Awards and won one (for Separate Tables). In my opinion she was the best Eliza Doolittle of all time when she played the part in Pygmalion and she was one of George Bernard Shaw's favorite actresses (see also Major Barbara). She had an earthy beauty and she made all her characters feel incredibly real.

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Wendy Hiller propaganda:

"She has a beautiful, sculptural head, and she is so expressive! Her leading role in Powell and Pressburger's "I Know Where I'm Going," as a woman discovering what she really wants, not what she thinks she should want, is superb."

Vivien Leigh propaganda:

"I submit this gifset--help she is so beautiful and tragic"

"Extremely versatile, absolutely beautiful features and a wonderful resting bitch face if needed."

"She has such a range of character types that she could fit any favorite type of woman. And have you seen her in the Red Dress? with her cocked eyebrow???"

[Linked GwtW gifset]

"She played one of the most famously unlikable characters in cinema history and knocked it out of the park."

"Vivien Leigh vs every established and wannabe actress on Earth- grand slam winner for Scarlett O'Hara and won the oscar. Ultimate power couple with hottie finalist Laurence Olivier. I am just on my knees for that arched eyebrow and smouldering look."

"She’s just mmm the PASSION behind her performances is palpable, she’s so beautiful and elegant and amazing and yeah"

"look at her. im a gay man and im in love with her"

#wendy hiller #vivien leigh #fuck that old woman #hotvintagepoll #ladies 1

[relicsongmel]

Thinking about Iris' very open disdain for spirit channeling and how it seemingly contradicts many other elements of her character.

Let me explain—Iris prior to the end of BttT is a woman who only knows facades, covering up the truth, and only presenting herself exactly as she wants others to see her. We see this over and over again throughout the course of the story: she hides her real identity while dating Phoenix, she does damage control for Dahlia and Godot to help them avoid blame for their crimes, and she is extremely selective about which information she chooses to disclose to specific people depending on whatever role she finds herself playing in that moment (daughter, girlfriend, accomplice, etc). Her demeanor as a whole is also rather meek and unassuming, and she's shown to be exceptionally kind; she expresses favorable opinions on most everyone she meets, even those continuously treated poorly by other characters (like Larry) or those that have objectively done reprehensible things (like Dahlia).

All of this stands in stark contrast to her saying in no uncertain terms that she hates spirit channeling:

This stands out to me because it is one of very few things that Iris is completely forthright honest about in the early portion of this case. After spending all day avoiding Phoenix and now carefully dodging his questions towards her in hopes of preventing the truth of her deception from coming out (all of this while actively avoiding her responsibilities at the Inner Temple because of Larry's "blackmail" letter which also threatened to expose her "secret"), why is this the one bit of truth she chooses to divulge here? Or rather: why is this the one thing she seemingly cannot lie about?

Obviously the answer lies in Iris' past and the permanent damage that was done to her and her family due to the politics of the Fey clan, with the Kurain Channeling Technique at the root, and the DL-6 incident as the event that brought everything to ruin. Iris bore witness to her mother Morgan losing the title of Master of Kurain due to her inferior powers and the despair that caused her, then three years later saw her aunt Misty who, despite purportedly being so much better than her mother, made a mistake while channeling that led to an innocent man's conviction, disgracing the Fey name and causing her to flee the village in shame. With this in mind, it makes sense that Iris would feel so strongly about spiritual powers doing more harm than good; after all, she has firsthand experience of the damage that can be done to the women that have it.

But what of the women that don't have it—namely, Iris herself? What happens to a spirit medium, born of the Fey bloodline, daughter of the then-master of her channeling school, when she's shown to not have any spiritual powers? I'm of the opinion that Iris' hatred is not only a product of what she's seen happen to her mother and aunt, but also very closely tied to what is, essentially, her earliest failure in life—after all, what good is a medium who can't channel? Fey women are raised to believe that their worth is linked to how well they can perform the service of their clan, which is the same reason why Maya beats herself up for failing to channel Mia in Turnabout Goodbyes and Pearl does the same with Dahlia later in this case. In a sense, Iris' hatred of spirit channeling is an externalization of her own self-hatred—unlike Dahlia, who mainly copes by lashing out and seeking revenge on those who wrong her, Iris is far too gentle and loving to lay blame on any one person. But all that repressed guilt and anger still has to go somewhere—and it manifests through this one small crack in her otherwise flawless facade. The one thing she cannot bring herself to find beauty in no matter how much she tries. The one thing that should have given her purpose but didn't—leaving her no choice but to mold herself beyond recognition over and over into roles that aren't truly her own, but at the very least give her meaning where she was denied it before.

And knowing her? She probably hates that flaw more than anything.

#ace attorney #pwaa #ace attorney trials and tribulations #aa #iris hawthorne #iris fey #iris of hazakura temple #phoenix wright #dahlia hawthorne #morgan fey #misty fey #aa3 spoilers #meta #my meta #i still have a BIT more to say about iris choosing to stay at hazakura temple in spite of this hatred #and what that says about her. but that'll have to wait for another day bc this post is already quite long #guys i love iris soooo much did you know that #local woman going feral over sister iris ace attorney for the 261478th time. more at 11

[freakadr0id]

ROTTMNT Character Fight Style Analysis - Part 3: Michelangelo

This is a continuation of my first post about analyzing each of the Turtles' (+April's) fighting style, their strengths and weaknesses in a fight, and how Rise uses that to highlight different aspects of their character. I highly encourage you read that first before hopping into this one for full context. There is a bit of a TL;DR at the end.

[Part 1: Leo] [Part 2: Raph] [...] [Part 4: Donnie] [Part 5: April]

Next up is Dr. Delicate Touch himself:

Michelangelo: The Wild Card/Disabler

Fight Style:

Dexterous and Versatile

Mikey is a very fast and acrobatic fighter, allowing him to move around and attack in ways his brothers are unable to. His small frame means that he is naturally inclined to be faster than his bigger brothers, and when paired with his gymnastic skills, he becomes an exceptionally swift and nimble fighter. He excels when fighting offensively – in fact, he’s the most offensive fighter on the team - and while he can handle himself on the defensive, it isn’t his strong suit. Mikey’s primary form of defense is to dodge the enemy as he can maneuver himself around foes in a way that makes him hard to keep track of, and even harder to hit.

Mikey also has the greatest versatility of the whole team. Like his brothers, he excels with non-traditional weapons, but Mikey seems to be particularly talented in this regard. Mikey also has a wide range of mystical abilities that he uses to extend the reach of his weapons by manipulating the chains of his nunchakus or kusari-fundo, improving his maneuverability, or even throwing comically large objects. This versatility in combination with his dexterity gives him the ability to attack enemies both nearby and at a distance with relative ease, while slightly improving his defensive skills.

Strengths and Roles in a Fight:

The Wild Card:

Mikey is the resident wild card as his fighting style wide range of abilities and make him the most flexible fighter on the team (both literally and figuratively) and seem very chaotic in a fight. His job is to be the unpredictable element in battle – he rounds out the team by being able to the changing needs of a fight. This is most effective when Mikey is on the offensive as he is less restricted in his fighting method than his brothers are - if a certain type of attack is needed, odds are Mikey can deliver. He can deliver quick, successive hits with his wild movements and fast reflexes, or he can utilize his wide variety of mystic abilities to blindside the enemy with an unexpectedly powerful attack. He can also help in disorienting an enemy or catching them off guard with his acrobatics and impressive strength despite his unassuming size.

Disabler:

When Mikey doesn’t need to fight offensively, he ends up primarily using his abilities to disable his enemies instead focusing as heavily on his attacks. He uses his surroundings to lead enemies into traps or he can manipulate the chains of his weapon(s) to wrap up a foe and inhibit their movement, creating the opportunity to perform a follow-up attack. Even when he throws things like a goddamn building at the enemy, this is usually only used to either crush or stall the enemy as opposed to straight-up defeating them.

Utility:

Due to his smaller size and the nature of his fighting style, Mikey tends to struggle when fighting by himself. He is a much stronger offensive fighter than a defensive fighter, which makes sense when looking at his weapon and physical attributes, but that also means he is at greater risk of losing should he have to fight defensively. While is by no means incapable of fighting alone (we see as much in 'Hot Soup: The Game'), it is noticeably more difficult for him and doesn't work with his strengths as a character.

Mikey's fighting is at his best when he has other people to work off of. His role as the wild card means he is able to assist any of his allies in battle by adapting to their respective fighting style and helping them in a fight without interfering with their attacks. This makes him a particularly good choice as a 'tag team' partner as Mikey can build on others' attacks while they can help him defensively if need be.

How it Plays into His Character:

Since Mikey's greatest weakness in battle (his inexperience) isn't necessarily a character flaw, but simply a product of his young age, his fight style does more to emphasize his personality. We see how Rise directly ties Mikey's fighting style to his character traits, ensuring that his fights still have the same depth as his brothers'.

The wild card role suits Mikey’s character as it complements his energetic and creative personality. Even outside of battle, Mikey moves in a very lively manner, quickly jumping around and rushing from place to place, which would naturally translate into how he fights. It also means that Mikey isn’t tied down to one particular method of attack which wouldn’t mesh well with his ADHD tendencies. His creativity also comes into play as his role as the wild card relies on him being clever and resourceful in battle. If he had a more rigid mindset, this would be difficult for him, but as someone who sees the world in an artistic light, Mikey is more inclined to be a bit more inventive in his attacks.

If Raph is the most protective of his brothers, Mikey is the most supportive. Even though Mikey is the youngest brother, he doesn’t feel overshadowed by his older brothers, nor does he crave the spotlight the way Leo or Donnie does. He wants to prove himself, but he is more than happy to do so by supporting his family, rather than outshining them. The Disabler role fits this part of Mikey perfectly. By disabling the enemy, he supports his brothers by stopping his foe from hurting others or by helping his allies by giving them a better opportunity to strike. Mikey still demonstrates that he is a capable, strong fighter, while still allowing his brothers to take a more prominent role in the fight.

In a Team Battle:

In a coordinated team attack, Mikey is actually capable of filling any position in the order of attack. His versatility gives him the ability to change his fighting method to fit whichever position he needs to, making his placement in the attacking order entirely situational.

When fighting in a strategic attack with the full team, Mikey is most effective going second, third, or second-to-last (depends on how many people are fighting) rather than first or last. Due to his fast movement and weapon’s versatility, Mikey can follow up on almost any type of attack, making him the best choice to go after more wild attacks that would normally throw off other characters. His role as a disabler also makes him a prime choice to set up a powerful final attack by halting the movement of an enemy and making them vulnerable to a finishing blow.

Mikey is able to go first or last in an attack when needed as he is more than capable of going into a fight quickly and delivering a strong attack by pummeling or crushing the enemy. However, considering that Mikey works best when playing off of his teammates, these are probably Mikey’s weakest positions in a team fight. He is also limited to really only one type of finishing blow (throwing large objects at people), which goes against his role as the wild card.

I had a really fun time analyzing Mikey's fighting style and roles. While identifying how he fought was pretty simple, understanding just how versatile our boy is was super interesting. I definitely didn't realize until going through this just how varied Mikey is during a fight, and it totally fits his personality. No wonder he's so fun to watch during an action scene.

~-~-~

[TL;DR: Mikey is a very speedy, dexterous, and versatile fighter. Due to his adaptability and wide range of mystic abilities has the greatest variety of attack methods out of all his brothers, making him the perfect Wild Card. His wild movements and fast (yet powerful) fighting style align well with his energetic personality, while his role as the Disabler fits in with his desire to support his brothers as opposed to outshining them.]

I really appreciate all the support I've been getting with these. It has been a blast making them and I am so glad people are enjoying reading them. Donnie is up next, but I'll have to push it off two days instead of tomorrow because of a test.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt michelangelo #rise mikey #rise michelangelo #you know #I am technically on time with this #once again I just got caught up with stuff #goddammit this better show up in the tags #I think I'm single handedly breaking tumblr with my posts #someone told me my first post crashed their phone when they tried to share it #soooo #wtf this isn't any larger than my previous posts why is this one being stupid #analysis #character analysis #rottmnt analysis

[prettyboykatsuki]

— EVERYTHINGS BETTER WHEN YOU'RE HONEST

★ tags ;; fem!reader (reader wears a skirt and generally performs femininity), friends to lovers, aged-up characters, professional athlete isagi, loss of virginity, sexually inexperienced isagi x sexually experienced reader, handjobs, oral (f!recieving) (isagi gets a dick kiss tho), themes of guilt kinda, unprotected sex / creampies, reader is sexually confident. little to no prep for penetration. an i love you and a single petname in there.

★ wc ;; 11.5k (im so...)

★ summary ;; you notice early on that isagi is always holding back something. the deeper into your relationship you go, the more you wish he'd let loose.

★ a/n ;; PLEASE READ BLUELOCK PLEASE. i love you isagi yoichi. pls let me have ur viriginity babies. title from the song pears by weston estate!

also, the little art exhibit is inspired by a real thing, the white gallery installation by studio 400

It was impossible to not know Isagi Yoichi. 

After the existence of BlueLock was released to the public and demonstrated on national T.V. - the enigma of Isagi Yoichi bloomed like a flower to sports fans everywhere. With the looks of an average Japanese teenager but the eyes of a demon - he quietly proclaimed only one thing. 

“We will—no, that’s not quite right. I will lead Japan to victory in the U20 World Cup.” 

Post the incredible defeat of the Japanese U20 by Bluelock, Bluelock itself launched into reality TV and challenged U20 teams across the globe in order to hone their members' talents. In addition to the rigorous training and plenty of conflicts were a group of players informed only by their ego. A withstanding hunger to win, unlike anything the country had seen before. 

Isagi Yoichi became the face of that ego. In less than a year, he fulfilled his promise at the U20 World Cup and landed a final crushing blow - putting Japan at the face of soccer for the first time in decades. 

Of course, he wasn’t the only one. Despite Bluelocks philosophy, soccer is a team sport meaning there’s more than one face worthy of note. All of the players were talented with an almost equal spotlight in media and often took to interviewing together for the sake of publicity. It’d take an idiot not to notice that the Bluelock players were a cut above the rest though. 

Whatever happened before the reality show set air created players unlike anything you’ve ever seen. As someone who only considers yourself a casual soccer fan at best, your own interest in Bluelock came as something of a surprise. 

For better or for worse, you saw Yoichi Isagi everywhere. On the labels of sports drinks, on cardboard cutouts in front of equipment shops, on posters in bars, or on your kid brother's bedroom walls. 

Through his media presence, you often felt he was unreadable. Likable, awkwardly charismatic, sometimes even playful. 

But there was always something else there. In the way he spoke about soccer or about becoming the greatest striker in the world. You thought everyone got the same vibe. 

But whenever you asked, “Hey, don’t you think that guys…kinda weird?” 

You were met with the same dismissive laugh. Aren’t all celebrities weird? or Isagi’s the most normal on his team, though. 

It always left you doubtful. Maybe you were misreading it after all. He did seem nice. Him being weird didn’t mean he was bad, but there was just something about him that you couldn’t get your mind off of.

It wasn’t about his play style or even related to soccer. There’s already plenty of analysis on that. In terms of game intelligence, he’s ranked exceptionally high. Fantastic spatial awareness. Average build and height but incredible stamina in order to be up to standard. But whatever you felt when you watched him couldn’t really be summed up by any of that, because there was often no reason to look at him above the rest. 

It felt like a clever trick of the universe that you’d end up encountering him in the wild. That you’d go so far as to have him as your boyfriend and that you actually like him. 

It was only because of that you could assert it so firmly, he’s a freak of nature among all else. A perfect fit for the demons on the Japanese National Team, a perfect descendant of Bluelock. 

__

The first time you met Isagi wasn’t worthy of note. Your first truly important memory together was his confession to you, months later. 

It happens in a tunnel in Shinjuku. A place you wouldn’t normally find yourself in. It’s not often you travel to Tokyo. You’re only here because you came to watch Isagi’s game, and Isagi told you Shinjuku is a fun place to explore. 

He goes where the wind takes him, and you follow him in earnest. He said he found this place a little earlier with Bachira. The deeper you go, the darker it gets - and as a consolation, he tugs you along by your sleeve so you don’t get lost. 

Somehow, after threading through different streets, you stop at what looks like an abandoned tunnel. There’s a little more light down here, but you can tell it’s not really a place where you should be trespassing. He seems non-plussed, a familiar smile on his face that has you following him anyway. You listen when he tells you to watch your step. 

The sun hasn’t set completely, the world painted in a vibrant shade of blue. It’s cold, the early Autumn season has you tucking your chin into your hoodie to keep warm. 

But you get down to where Isagi wants to show you. A place full of concrete and overgrown leaves that could only exist somewhere like Shinjuku. It’s dark, but all the lights of the streets pour down through different cracks. Just enough that you can still see Isagi’s face illuminated in it, something that makes your stomach twist. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you smile when he turns back to look at you. 

“It’s in here,” He says, excitement bursting in his voice “Come on,”

You follow him into a tunnel, the walls around you both in a circular arch. You can’t see anything like that. But Isagi comes to your rescue, phone in hand. He turns the flashlight on as high as it can go. 

All over the walls is artwork. Graffiti art, but art all the same. Particularly, flowers. They’re beautiful and vibrant, strangely detailed for street art - colored in bright shades of fuchsia, purple, yellow, and green. Everything is outlined in black, and there are tags hidden between leaves and in the empty space.

It’s beautiful. Beautiful in the way you find things beautiful, the messy coloring and hard lines. Done in a style Isagi knows you like, his flashlight shining up to give you a better view. With your jaw agape, you nearly forget who’s next to you until you hear his footsteps echo behind you. 

His presence is comforting. A familiar but unfamiliar person, when you look back you can see him looking at you. 

“It’s nice, right? Seemed like something you’d like,” 

“We’re trespassing,” You say first, drowned by an emotion you can’t name “You’re a big-time athlete and we’re trespassing in a tunnel so you can show me art you thought I’d like. Ridiculous,” 

Isagi shrugs sheepishly.

“We’ll be fine. You like it?” 

He’s unbelievable. 

“Of course I like it,” 

“Nice. I knew you would.” 

There’s a brief, silent moment where you’re too overwhelmed to say anything nice. You kind of want to shake the guy by the shoulders, to say something about how you’ve spent the last few months spending frivolous amounts of time with him. You want to say a lot of things. That he’s sincerely a weird guy, and you think he should cut his hair soon, and that you still have the piece of paper he wrote his number down on from those months ago. 

But nothing really comes out as you stare at him and he stares back at you. His eyes are deep and blue but shiny. Visible even in the darkness, you let your gaze linger on his face. 

“I’m glad Bachira forced me to give you my number,” He says, all at once.

“So that’s what happened,” You say with a laugh, hands in your pockets “That’s why the numbers are so shaky. Were you nervous?” 

“Yeah,” He says honestly “I couldn’t remember the last time I even interacted with a girl. I didn’t even have friends who were girls in high school.” 

“Did girls scare you?” 

“Ah, a little.” 

“Do I scare you?” You ask, cheeky. Interested because even until now, you can’t tell how Isagi really sees you. 

“You don’t scare me,” He concludes, head in the clouds. He glances down at you “But uh, I guess it’s weird.” 

You give him a look, curious for his explanation. 

“Hm. It’s like soccer.” 

“Don’t compare me to soccer, jackass.” 

“I don’t have anything else to compare it to,” He says defensively, pushing his bangs back but not refuting you “It’s not that I’m scared of you. It’s a me thing.” 

“I’ll let you use soccer to explain just this once,” 

“Uh… it’s still pretty hard. I guess it’s just intense,” 

“What is?” 

“Liking you,” He says easily, before catching himself and having his eyes widen. You freeze, then grin. 

“Oh?” 

He covers a face with his hand. He’s so embarrassed he’s pink, but it suits him. You feel your heart do a nasty flutter. No matter how smug you pretend to be, seeing him like that leaves you nervous too. 

“It was supposed to be a lot cooler than that,” He admits halfway through a sigh. You giggle. 

“Is that why you brought me here?” 

He looks away and you laugh. 

“Mm, fine. No prying. Finish your thought first.” 

“It probably wouldn’t make any sense unless you were in my head. But sometimes it’s like—I didn’t know I was capable of something like that until it happens.” 

“You thought you’d never have a girlfriend?” 

“I thought it would feel different than how it does,” He tells you, looking at your face “I thought liking someone would be less complicated I guess,” 

“Why would it be complicated, though?” 

“I always thought it’d make me nicer,” 

It’s a sentence you feel in your whole body He’s like this sometimes. Not normally around you. On the field, you see it all the time. Moments where he becomes unreachable, that look in his eyes that you can spot from miles away - intensely focused and oddly serious. You know Isagi is the best, believe his word about being the best striker in the world. 

The emotion behind that makes him strange.

“It didn’t make you nicer?” 

He tilts his head to one side. For the first time, he’s really looking at you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this way. He’s sweet already. Nice, already. He’s gentler than every other athlete guy you’ve ever met, uncharacteristically kind. His other qualities are limited to when he’s playing. 

Right now, he’s looking at you and only you. And he’s right, it doesn’t seem very nice. 

“I really thought it would.”

He doesn’t offer you any more explanation than that before he goes back to his normal self. His expression softens and his eyes open up and he’s back to looking all friendly again. You’re not mad at that, of course not. But your curiosity remains, and you leave the door open for whenever you see that again. 

“...You like me back right?” 

You smile to yourself. He’s really, really something else. You reach your hand out and only grab his pinky finger to hold. His hands are bigger than you thought they’d be but warm all the same. His eyes widen as he looks between you, your heart thudding in your chest. 

“What if I said no?” 

“I’d never come back to Japan,” He says seriously. 

“Shut up. You better come see your girlfriend.” 

“Nice,” He says, pushing a breath out of his lungs he’d been holding “I can’t believe I got a girlfriend before Kunigami.” 

“You’re so stupid.” 

“It’s cause I didn’t finish high school,” 

__ 

Long distance with Isagi isn’t as bad as you thought it’d be. Of course, it’d be better to see him in person. It’s just that he texts you so often it doesn’t feel like you’re that far apart. 

You like opening your phone to his flood of text messages. It’s always the same with him. Pictures of whatever he’s eating that day, sleeping teammates, and sweaty post-workout pictures that are definitely thirst traps but probably not on purpose. 

Your relationship feels like a friendship but not in a bad way. Just that Isagi has a strangely innocent way of approaching you, that always reads like a guy who’s never been in a relationship before. 

You know for a fact Isagi is not innocent, mostly because you knew him before you were dating. Before you were even crushing each other in which a raunchy joke left his mouth, dirty to the point you had to smack him for indecency. You know he’s not innocent because he doesn’t even bat an eye when Shidou is going on and on about having sex with a goalpost or whatever he’s talking about. 

But Isagi treats you like he’s an angel. Exceptionally polite, and exceptionally clean. Even when you tease him he’s censoring himself, diverting the conversation but not in a way that offends you. 

Sometimes you catch him looking. That’s the reason it doesn’t bother you mostly. Sometimes, and just sometimes - you see him stare at you. Shirts that make your chest stick out, or shorts that ride too high on your legs. It’s hardly on purpose, but it happens. Isagi will call you before you get ready to run errands and in the process of getting dressed, he sees a sliver of skin he’s not really supposed to see. 

Even through a screen and phone speakers, you can hear the soft hitch of his breath. When you’re both supposed to be doing your own thing, you’ll turn to see his eyes fixed on you when he thinks you’re looking away. 

You always look away quick enough that he can keep staring. He’s a bit of a voyeur, you learn.  

Today, your facetime call is more innocent than that. It’s about 2 weeks out before Isagi returns to Japan with the intent to stay there. Only 2 more weeks of long-distance until he’s home for good and you get to experience normal relationship stuff. 

He’s set up on your counter while you make dinner. He looks tired but he insisted on calling. In a hotel room, he’s laying back in a sea of white sheets. His dark hair mussed on his pillowcase, blue eyes lidded. 

“What’re you making?” He asks, voice thick with exhaustion. You glance at him, using your knife to smash the clove of garlic down on the cutting board. 

“Chili garlic noodles,” You say simply. He groans. 

“Ah…it sounds good. Our nutrition coach is so strict,” He whines, laying on his stomach “I want to eat meat,” 

“I’ll grill you some when you get home,” You say smoothly. 

“Promise?” He mumbles. You chuckle, looking at him for a minute. 

“Yes, I promise. Come home soon.” 

He rubs his cheek into his pillow, frowning. 

“Soon, soon,” He repeats softly, then a little quieter “...I miss you.” 

This comes as a surprise. You give him a look, a shade of pink running up his back to the tips of his ears. You giggle. 

“That’s the sappiest thing you’ve said for the last 6 months,” 

“...Ah, seriously?” 

“It definitely is,” You say without looking up, chopping the garlic fine carefully “No one would guess we’re dating if they heard us talk.” 

“It’s not on purpose, it’s just—well. I don’t know, ‘s kinda embarrassing.” 

“You’re a perfect gentleman though, Isagi. Don’t fret,” 

“That makes me feel way worse,” He complains lightly. This makes you laugh for so long you have to put down your knife just to hold your stomach. When you’re done, he’s smiling at you. He’s so handsome it catches you off-guard. 

“You’re surprisingly timid. When I watch you play, you seem like a completely different person..” 

“...You watch me play?” 

“I liked you as a player before we started dating, stupid.” 

This catches his interest, ears perking up. 

“...So what do you think of me as a player?” 

You pour the chopped garlic into the bowl with the chili and other ingredients, turning the stove on to heat oil to pour on top of it. He stares at you wide-eyed. 

“You’re basically a genius as a player. You’re a really good striker, and your physicality has improved a lot since you’ve been on the national team but your predictions set you apart from the rest.” You say without thinking much of it. It’s not intended to be a compliment, but an evaluation. Isagi really is just that good “I think you’ll become the best and I like seeing you play.” 

After that, he’s silent for a while. When you notice, you finally look up from your task to see him grinning from ear to ear. 

“Ah… I’m so happy. What do I do? I could die happy right now.” 

“Jeez.” 

“Thank you, you’re the best. Ahhh… I have to become the best for real. I mean I had to before, but now I really have to.” 

Before you get a chance to interject, a chorus of noise comes from the other side of the line. Your eyes snap up to where you find Isagi whose expression has immediately faltered. You don’t speak as you watch him sit up, face twisted into a look of apology. You give him a sweet smile that makes him relax a little.

There’s too much conversation for you to hear what they’re saying, seems like they’re just talking about their schedule. You tune out for the time being. Or you try too.

“Woah, woah—Isagi you’re talking to your girlfriend aren’t you?” A voice pipes up. A voice you know as Bachira. You’ve only ever spoken to him twice.

Isagi is always weird about letting you meet his teammates. You can’t pinpoint a reason for why, but you respect it either way. Of them though, he does sometimes let Bachira talk to you after a bit of pestering before shoving him away. 

Before you know what’s happening, you see a bunch of chaos on screen like you’re being snatched out of Isagi’s hand. You can hear his voice in the back, suddenly fainter. It sounds like he’s cussing but the other noise drowns him out. 

You end up in Bachira’s hands. Next to him is Chigiri, Nagi, Gagamaru and Rin. You know them as team members, but you’ve never officially met them as  Isagi’s girlfriend. Put on the spot, you give them a polite bow as they stare at you. 

“Uh,” You say awkwardly, raising your hand up to wave “Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N. And  hi again, Bachira.” 

“Hehe, hi!” 

“Nice to meet you,” Chigiri says first. Nagi follows with a polite wave, as does Gagamaru. Rin gives you a nod but doesn’t say a word aside from that. 

“So you’re Isagi’s girlfriend huh,” Nagi starts, looking at you curiously “I thought he was making it up.” 

“Right,”  Chigiri confirms, giving you a once over. You feel awkward “Isagi is pretty private about it.” 

This catches your interest. 

“Isagi is?” 

“We’ve never even seen a picture of you until just now,” Gagamaru confirms. You can’t contain your surprise. 

“Oh. Huh.” 

“Do you know us, though?” 

“Oh, uh, yeah. As players though, not as Isagi’s friends.” 

“...You’re a fan?” The ever silent Rin says. It startles a little before you smile, sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck. 

“I am. Have been since your game with the U20 league couple of years ago. Was really excited to see everyone together as major players on the national team. And congrats on your recent win against the Belgium National Team!” You say cheerily. 

Surprisingly all of them get a little embarrassed, aside from Nagi who seems a little smug about the whole thing. They all give their thanks, once again other than Rin. 

“I see why Isagi was trying to hide you,” Chigiri says first. You tilt your head in confusion. 

“Isagi is so stingy,” Bachira says, nodding his head. You have no idea what they’re on about so you simply say nothing and keep constructing your dinner. 

Before you can say anymore, you’re once again snatched from somebodies hands. This time though, you can hear your boyfriend speaking. His hand is cupped over the speaker so it’s muffled, but you can hear him faintly. He sounds like he’s cursing them over something. You can’t tell what. 

When you turn to see his face, he looks agitated. Just barely there, but there still. You stand still as he walks off somewhere else, the noise of his teammate dying out as he goes into some room. You have no idea where but there’s, at the very least, a bit more privacy in it. 

“Ah,” You say, as he comes into camera view again “Hi,” 

He has that look on his face. The one you can’t really name, that’s oddly intense for a reason you don’t understand. It relaxes a little when he focuses on you, just barely. You give him a warm smile, leaning on your counter. 

“Sorry about them.” He says seriously. 

“Don’t be. They seem nice and I have to meet your friends eventually.” 

“Ignore them, seriously. They’re dumbasses.” 

It’s rare to hear him speak so crassly. You can feel the odd energy around him, surrounding him like a cloud of smoke. You should probably tell him it’s fine, but your curiosity is peaked by his reaction. Like poking a sleeping bear, you’re fascinated by an angry Isagi. It’d be good if he could be more honest with his feelings. 

“They thought you were lying about me. Apparently, they didn’t even know what I looked like.” 

“It’s not really their business.” 

Interesting. You think Isagi is interesting at times like this. 

“I didn’t know you were territorial, Isagi.” 

You intend to say it as a joke, but a single look at him confirms it. Isagi is just so nice it's hard to believe. Instead of replying, he sighs.

“I miss you,”

“Mhm. I miss my boyfriend too, very much.” 

He relaxes, his threatening aura disappearing just slightly. 

“Your who?” 

“My boyfriend, Yoichi Isagi. Best striker in the world and smartest player ever, do you know him?” 

Isagi grins before giggling, face going flush again. Back to his usual self. 

“Think I might.” 

__

Isagi came back to Japan over two months ago. So far, not much has changed in your relationship. 

The only thing is, you’re determined to make your boyfriend snap. Or at the very least, express his feeling a little more. 

You’ve found yourself doing a lot of initiating in romantic milestones. This doesn’t bother you because after you do, he normally gets more comfortable doing the same. It’s a small price to pay for consistent kisses and bolder handholding. The issue isn’t really that, but the obvious way Isagi is dodging things he clearly wants to do. 

So far you’ve only gone as far as a little making out in your single-bedroom apartment before Isagi’s excusing himself back home or to your bathroom. You’re not trying to pressure the guy but you have this sneaking suspicion the reason he’s stopping isn’t because he doesn’t want to - because on the occasion you’ll get into it, he’ll get into it too. Only after you moan does he freeze and stop altogether - pulling away like he just got soaked with cold water.

And you’ll watch him real-time turn the idea over in his head, the very obvious half mast in his pants that he keeps shifting to cover.

He’s a good, sweet guy so it’s not like you fault him for it. On paper, he’s perfect. Boyish and friendly, with nice hands and a bright smile, unafraid to express himself. He’s intuitive with your emotions - like he has a sensor built in for your different moods. He’s attentive, and his awkward bumbling when trying to be boyfriend-like adds to how much you like him rather than take away from it. 

But now that he’s back and you spend so much time together, the fact he’s holding back a little becomes more and more apparent. You’ve tried to bring it up, and he obviously catches on to what you’re trying to say but feigns ignorance every time. 

Isagi is a strange character. You’ve known that forever, and after nearly 8 months of dating - you think you know what to call it. 

Isagi, even now, doesn’t like how he wants things. 

But it’s different with soccer. You know Isagi to be a terribly unselfish person in his day-to-day life. Even if he bickers or argues with his teammates, he never gets into fights and always gives the last piece to someone else. Soccer is probably the only place he lets himself be anything else, lets himself be a little bit egotistical, or act in self-interest. It’s the exception to his rule of thumb, the lesson beat into him early. 

And you think the way Isagi is, is what’s making him hesitate. You probably can’t say it outright, that it’s fine if he wants to be a little selfish over you or claim you like a possession if he feels like it. It’s even fine if he’s desperate because you like him and anything he does is bound to excite you. So far, confrontation has proved counterproductive so there’s no use in trying again. 

Isagi responds well to pressure, so you’ve resolved yourself into giving him a little push so he gives in. 

It’s a Saturday afternoon and you’re meeting Isagi for a date in an outfit you would consider risky. You stick to your athleisure when you’re out with him because your dates with Isagi are casual - but today you’re going to an art exhibit. The perfect time to show off a little. 

You’ve got on a skirt that rides up when you walk and a top that’s revealing enough to show off parts of your body you’re not normally trying to. For you, it’s risky and you know that means it’s gonna stun your boyfriend quiet. 

No matter what happens, you’ll give Isagi a push in the right direction. 

He’s waiting for you outside of your apartment. Leaning on the decently expensive car he bought when coming back home. You always forget that he really has money, because he normally dresses and acts like he doesn’t.

He’s dressed casually as you’d expected. With a pair of loose-fitting pants and a mildly oversized Nike sweatshirt - he always looks a little soft. He got a haircut from what you can tell, hair no longer blocking his line of sight. You give him a wave as you descend down the front steps of your apartments. 

He looks up from his phone, eyes locked before they widen. Your smile brightens as you approach him. 

“Hi,” You greet, watching with a warm smile as Isagi slides his phone into his pocket. He reaches for your hand, grabbing it but not saying anything with his mouth open. 

“Isagi?” 

“Oh,” He shakes his head like he’s trying to stop thinking something before he focuses back on you “Hi,” 

You giggle as he grabs both of your hands in his. You reach up to cup his face and he nuzzles against your palm before kissing it. Bemused, you stroke your thumb along his skin. 

“You all there?” 

“Yeah, you just—wow. You’re so… wow,” 

“How poetic, Isagi.”

He pouts a little. 

“You look…really nice. Uhm, like pretty and stuff,” 

You lean up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

“And you look handsome as always,” 

“Ah, jeez, really?” 

“Really, really. Your haircut looks good.”

He brightens up at the mention of it, awkwardly rubbing his neck.

“I wanted to look a little nicer. I thought about styling it but it looked kinda dumb,”

“It’d look pretty sexy pushed back, I think. I’ll help you with it next time.” 

“S-Sexy?”

“I think you’re pretty sexy, Isagi. I thought you knew that already?” 

When you hint at past activities, Isagi is looking away from you. Hand covering his face - he looks up at the sky with silent resolve. 

“Oh,” 

You put a deliberate hand on his chest when you kiss him properly this time. Feeling him fluster is a tiny victory, his lips are soft like he’s just put chapstick on. 

You deepen it just a little before pulling away entirely, leaving him dazed. It’s going to be a good day if it keeps going in this direction. Still, you decide you’d be better off not pushing your luck and push him away. 

“Ready to go?”

He looks annoyed, not enough that it’s obvious. And not at you. He gives you a half-hearted smile and nods. 

“Ready.” 

__

The art exhibit is unexpectedly fun.

 It’s one of those interactive art exhibits. You only found out after buying the tickets but it was a pleasant surprise. Isagi was probably more excited about it than you were. Surprisingly, he has a soft spot for creative stuff. 

A certifiable film buff, manga enthusiast, and genuine procurer of art - he was ecstatic as soon as you two walked into what felt more like an amusement park than an art gallery. There were several rooms and each of them had different things to mess around with. 

Interactive lights in one, a heatroom that responded to touch and body temperature depending on where you walked, and a room that could read your heartbeat and project the beat onto a heart on one of the walls. 

It felt more like playing in an adult playground than it did an exhibit. It was so fun - you were having a hard time remembering what you were supposed to be doing in the first place. 

The last room in the exhibit is full of climbable structures. You had to take your shoes off before going in. Starting from the center of the room out were large white structures, like a net you could climb into on a massive scale. The material it was made of was sturdy enough to hold up the weight of whoever was in it, but pliable enough that it would stretch and bounce with whatever movement happened within it. 

You’re grateful you came with Isagi to this exhibit on a day when many people weren’t around. There are only a few other people in with the two of you, so you and Isagi have been moving around to your hearts' content. 

Unsurprisingly, Isagi moves through everything with ease. Damn him and his athletic stature, he’s not even tired when you get closer to the top of the exhibit.

He offers to be behind you so you can catch up as a middle ground. You aren’t thinking anything of it when you agree to go before him. 

You dig your heel into the link above you to give yourself some solid foundation to keep moving up. Climbing up like this reminds you of the playground you used to play on when you were young. Taking a deep breath, you let out a little hup as you adjust yourself and get a good distance above. When you reach the height you want, you turn yourself around to lean into the malleable material. 

It adjusts to the shape of your body with ease. Leaning back, your eyes naturally search for Isagi. You stopped actively listening for him behind you, assuming it wouldn’t be hard for him to catch up to you. 

When you turn around, you see Isagi. But, instead of coming up to sit next to you - his head is turned to one side. You can’t see his face clearly but there’s a clear blush tone painted on the apples of his cheeks. He’s standing stiff and still, a single hand reaching for you. 

“Isagi?” 

Your eyes follow the motion of his arm. His fingers pinch the very edge of your skirt, tugging down the material just slightly. You squint, leaning forward to get a closer look at him - balancing yourself so you don’t fall forward. 

“Baby?” 

“Oh, uh,” He won’t look you in the eyes. You can’t figure out why “Sorry.” 

“You feelin’ okay?”

“I’m fine.” He says too quickly. You drop down from where you are to look at him closer and he flinches back. Retracting, you frown. 

“You’re pale and sweaty. You sure you’re okay? It’s okay if you’re not feeling well. I had fun today no matter what.”

“No, no! I’m fine, I swear.” 

“Isagi,” You say, firm but sweet. You grab his hand “Let’s go home.” 

“But it’s—” 

“No buts. C’mon. I’ll invite you in, so let's go.” 

He sighs but doesn’t refute you, hand slipping gently into yours. 

“Okay.” 

__ 

Isagi has been acting weird. 

He hasn’t been able to meet your eyes since you left the art exhibit. The drive home was eerily silent aside from the radio. He did accept your invitation to watch a movie inside, but he’s been sitting on the carpet in your living room with a healthy amount of distance between you two. 

You’d understand if you spent the day messing with him, but the fun of the art exhibit practically ruined your original plans. So really, you’re completely clueless as to why your boyfriend is so stiff. 

You sigh deeply, pouring a glass of water. Placing the pitcher on your kitchen counter, you pad back into the living room to give him the cup.

“Here,” 

“Oh,” He says, not looking up at you “Thank you.” 

This time you’re annoyed. You sit diagonal from him, one leg up with the other one laying flat, the soft furry carpet comfortable. Sighing, you press your chin to your knee. 

“What's wrong with you?” You say bluntly. Isagi snaps his head up to you. 

“Huh?” 

You give him another displeased frown. It’s a little petulant but it’s hard to reach Isagi without using tactics like this. 

“You haven’t looked at me since we left the art exhibit,” You point out. His expression drops, eyes immediately focusing on something else “And you’re being so weird right now. So what’s wrong?” 

“I’m fine.” He insists, a wobbly smile on his face. You give him a flat look. 

“Isagi Yoichi.” 

“Yes, dear?” 

That makes you laugh a little but you don’t give in. 

“Can you please just tell me why you’re acting so weird, hm? Please?” 

His expression becomes even grimmer for a minute before he readjusts. He sits criss-cross, elbows resting on knees while he clasps his hands together. He’s looking forward very seriously, and you don’t know what to expect as you watch him turn something over in his head. 

He leans back this time, pulling up the collar of his sweatshirt to cover his face a bit. 

“I saw…” He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes “I saw under your skirt earlier..” 

You squint before the realization hits you. Oh. Huh. He did pull your skirt down at the exhibit so it was probably riding up and he caught a peek. A little embarrassing, sure, but nothing of note. 

“...So?”

Isagi turns to look at you with wide eyes like you’ve said something unbelievable. You give him a look of confusion before giggling a little. 

“....So??” He parrots, lost.

“Yeah. So. Do you feel guilty or something?” 

He nods meekly. You grin. 

“I mean, were you peeping on purpose?” 

“No, no, of course not. I wouldn’t—” 

His panic has you full-blown giggling. When he realizes you’re not angry, he quiets down. Simply watching you, he takes a deep breath. 

“It’d be fine even if you were, so it’s whatever. Don’t be like that over something so small, I was really worried about it.” 

“It’s not small,” He says firmly. 

“Mm, really? It’s not a big deal to me though. You’re my boyfriend so you’d be the only one seeing my panties, anyway.” 

This makes Isagi choke. You watch him with an amused grin. 

“In fact, you can probably see it while I’m sitting like this too. I’m comfortable with you so I wasn’t thinking about it,” You say, teasing him slightly by spreading your legs “Even if I flashed you, you wouldn’t do anything about it, would you?” 

It’s not something he can refute so he doesn’t. You think it affected him, the slightest bit of frustration on his face. 

“It’s not like I’m not—yknow?” 

“Not what?” 

He rubs the back of his neck. 

“It’s not like I don’t… want to.”

“Oh, I know. I figured but,” You cross your legs this time, delighted by him “I know you won’t.” 

He’s silent for a while after that. You don’t want to pressure him, so you give him a warm smile. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to. I’m sure you have your reasons and for whatever you can’t tell me, so I’m not gonna be mad.” 

He looks like he’s going to cry for a minute there but recollects himself. 

“I’m sorry.” He says lamely. 

“Don’t be. I was planning to seduce you today so in a way, my plans worked out.” 

The shock on his face has you biting back a cackle, choking on his spit. He wipes his mouth, looking at you embarrassed.

“Seduce me?” 

“Mm, I thought a little push might be good for you. But it looks like it had the opposite effect, you’re shaking like a leaf.” 

“It…that’s not true.” He folds his hands in his lap “I’ve never…done this before.” 

“I figured,” You repeat, nonplussed. You were Isagi’s first girlfriend after all “You don’t want to lose it to me, then?” 

“Not that,” He says, pulling his knees up and hugging his knees “I just… feel bad. For looking at you like that.” 

“Ah, I knew it.” You mumble “You feel bad for wanting to fuck me, don’t you?” 

He swallows something in the back of his throat, looking up. 

“It’s different.” 

“You know you’re really easy to read. It’s fine, Isagi. Whatever you want to do is fine. I like you, so it’s fine. Even if it’s gross or really perverted. If I hate something, I would just tell you.”

He looks up at you, riddled with guilt so you sigh. For his sake, you might as well put yourself out a little more. 

Instead of saying anything else, you crawl towards him on your hands and knees. His breath hitches, eyes locked on you. Adjusting so you’re in front of him, you stand on your knees and face him. He looks up at you, starry-eyed and a little afraid. 

You really just want to shake him by the shoulders, but you refrain. 

“Isagi,” You say, voice low and dripping with as much sexual desire as you can muster “Do you wanna see my panties?” 

It should be just the right push. 

His eyes snap down to your legs and thighs, where your manicured hands have the bottom of the skirt gripped in your hands. Two fingers in the tight material, you flutter your lashes at him. He looks shocked, stumbling over the right response before his hands fist at his knees. He looks down then nods hard. 

“Uh...Y-yeah. Yes, I— If that’s okay.,” 

Before he can retract too much, you pull up your skirt over the lower half of your tummy. You’re wearing a matching set, though it wasn’t with this intent. A cool wave of air hits your skin as you hold it up, giving Isagi a clear view. A pair of pretty, lacy panties are clinging to you. They’re thin and sheer, all black and snug. 

His ears are a vibrant red, hands planted at either side of him. 

“You’re looking so hard,” You tease, watching his desperate expression “You’ve never seen a girl's panties before? Or are you like this because they’re mine?” 

He flinches at the latter half of your statement. It’s nice to know he wants you, at least. 

“You like lace?” 

He nods, mesmerized. 

“You can touch,” You say encouragingly, glancing at his stiff posture “Be gentle, ‘kay?” 

His hands shake when he reaches forward. Instead of letting him go in blind, you take a free hand on his hand. The palm of his hand cups the back of your thigh. You let him do as he pleases with the other one. His breathing is so uneven it’s the only thing you can hear. His nimble fingers are hesitant as they reach forward for you. 

But he manages to touch you, a gentle finger against the edge of the fabric. He starts at your hips before traveling downward, lower and lower. He’s so tender, just like you thought he’d be. You feel your heart starting to beat fast at the feeling of his hand, the one on your thigh slowly getting tighter. 

His finger curls in before he’s so slowly touching the seam of your lace panties. Just where you can feel contact, where your pussy is. You’re aching just watching him sate his curiosity, the way he’s observing you making incredibly horny. 

He drags his knuckle down before he’s pressed right against your slit, underneath the cloth. He gasps as he feels it, a low noise slipping past your lips at the contact. 

“You’re.. I-it’s wet.” He says, a tremble in his voice. You smile. Cupping his face in your palms, you lean forward until you’re close to him. He looks so hazy for you. You press your lips to his, deep and soft as the skirt flops over his hand. He hasn’t moved at all, so you rub against his knuckle wantonly. 

“Mhm. I’m wet for you.” 

“For…for me.” He says through a wheeze. 

“Want to see your cock, Isagi.” You practically purr, turned on at his fluster. At him, in general. You hold his gaze while you say it, hand sneaking down to the front of his pants “To feel it. It’s lonely without you.” 

“Holy shit…holy shit.” 

“You wanna see it, right? Wanna see it stretch me out real nice. Don’t you wanna know how it feels?” 

“I want,” His voice is thick with lust to the point it’s unrecognizable. He buries his face against your neck. Your heartbeat thrums “I want to… do what you want.” 

Oh? 

“You’re thoughtful even in bed, is it? You wanna make me cum, Isagi?” 

He groans.

“Oh, please,”

“You’re so sweet. Makes me wanna take your virginity.” 

“Take whatever you want.” He says, rushed. You chuckle. 

“Even your credit cards? Your wallet?” 

“Yeah,” He says easily. 

“Stupid,” You adjust so either of your legs are on either side of Isagis's stretched legs “Kiss me,” 

“Yeah.” He repeats, a little slower. 

This much is familiar to you both. Isagi has gotten good at kissing. Though he normally holds himself back, keeping his hands steady. You wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your body up to his purposefully. Isagi makes a noise of approval as he feels your chest press to his. He hesitates only briefly as he sneaks a hand on your thigh, just above your knee. 

His kisses are warm and familiar.  Your hands tangle in his hair as you urge for him a little deeper, soft locks between your fingers. He likes when you tug at his scalp. His slow nipping kisses deepen until you’re breathing him in.

“Isagi,” You break away, out of breath “Stick your tongue out.” 

He obliges easily. Before he has a chance to question it, you grab his face in your hands again and mirror him. The sudden contact makes his grip on you tighten before he melts into it. Tongue kissing him slow, he finds rhythm with you. You kiss like that for a while, spit and tongue and teeth. Kissing like that is turning you on, so you press your weight down on his body for more contact. 

He’s surprised when he feels you. His eyes open to look at you, but you don’t want to stop kissing him so you leave it. Instead, you hold his gaze as you rub your clothed cunt over the hard-on in his pants. Normally even getting this far is some sort of miracle. 

But right now, Isagi isn’t stopping you at all. It’s a success in your eyes. You can feel him respond to each of your slow grinds. Dragging your hips back and forth, Isagi’s eyes are lidded when he watches you. 

“Mm,” You go harder, your clothed clit catching on the tip of his cock. You can feel how the fabric is soaking underneath you “Isagi. I wanna know how you feel.” 

He pulls back in a pant, eyes closed. His forehead drops onto your shoulder with a soft thud. 

“Feels so good,” He slurs, speechless. He’s so cute. 

“You like when I grind on you?” 

“It’s making me so hard.” He says, voice going high. 

“What do you want, Isagi?” 

“See,” He mumbles, twitching under you “Wanna see.” 

Without another word, you pull back from him. Giving him a pleasant smile, you slip your top off of your body and let it fall to the floor. Isagi’s eyes grow the size of saucers, swallowing. 

“Oh my god.” 

You stand to your feet, hand on his shoulder to keep him sitting. Infront of him, you strip your skirt as slowly as you can manage. You’re only left in your lingerie and your socks. Isagi is looking up at you like you’re the sun. The exposure of your body has never made you shy, but the look on Isagi’s face is really giving you a run for your money. 

“Take your shirt off,” 

Isagi widens his eyes before breaking out into another blush. Ultimately he does what you ask. You watch the sweatshirt peel off of his body while he’s still seated underneath you. You forget how strong he is until he’s naked like that. He’s toned.  

He keeps looking up at you from where he’s sat. You give him a glance.

“Do what you want Isagi.” You encourage. His brow furrows momentarily before he finds himself kneeling underneath you. You aren’t sure what to make of the position. Isagi’s hands hover over your body. Holding your waist, he rubs his cheek against your stomach before kissing it. You play with his hair. When he looks up, his eyes are full of desire. 

“You don’t feel real.” He says in a mumble. 

“I’m very real.” 

He looks up at you. Eyes rimmed with hunger, hands holding you’ll fall away. Even still, he’s looking for permission. That conflict that he feels every single time he wants something. 

“Tell me if you want to stop.” He says, masking the tremble in his voice. You smile. 

“Course.”

“Then,” He looks at you seriously “Can we go to your room?” 

You nod, reaching your hand out for him to take, he follows you to your bedroom. On the opposite side of the room, you shut the door behind you. Instead of asking him where he wants you- you flop onto the bed and open your arms. 

“C’mere.” You say. He widens his eyes but does as you say, hovering above you. His arms rest on either side of your head. Warmth radiates off his body, hands hesitantly touching your face. He rests his face against your chest. 

“We’re really gonna have sex,” He mumbles, with a flush. You can’t contain your laugh. 

“You’re still like this, huh.” 

“Of course I am,” He kisses you this time, in between his nerves with just a little more confidence than before “I get to… with you. Wow.” 

“Touch me.” You all but demand. Isagi does an obedient little nod before he steels himself. His palms travel slowly downwards, drifting touches until he’s at your chest. He takes in a deep breath as he cups them over the lacy material. You can feel your nipples harden under the touch, and he must too because he lets out a little sound of surprise. He looks up at you for assurance,

You merely smile at him. 

He keeps going, little by little familiarizing himself with your body. Distracted and clumsily, with no real expertise. Every now and again, he’ll catch himself drifting. He presses kisses to your neck and chest while he gropes you thoroughly and curiously. Isagi endears you at every turn. You’re no stranger to it but seeing him like this reminds you of how much. 

You put your hand on top of his so he can squeeze tighter. He gasps a little but repeats after you, squeezing. You don’t have to ask him to touch you directly, a pleasant surprise. He doesn’t take off your bra nor does he fumble with it. He pulls the cups down until your tits spill. Every time you think he’ll stop being shocked, he gets red in the face and proves you wrong. 

The cold air to your exposed chest makes your back arch slightly. You adjust so you can take your bra off completely, letting the strap slip over your shoulder. When it comes loose, Isagi pauses so you can toss it somewhere. 

His eyes are so glued on your tits you can’t help but feel a little shy.

“Isagi,” It comes out a little whiny “Touch me,” You assert again. 

“I can do what I want, right?” 

You nod. 

To your surprise, he trails kisses down your sternum. In between your tits, licking softly and biting even softer. You have no idea what he’s thinking, but you think he probably read up about it somewhere. The thought makes your stomach twist. Your sweet boyfriend away for months, reading up on how to please you. It’s something he’d do. Knowing that makes your teeth ache, like over-indulging on sugar. 

His mouth closes around your nipple and a shockwave rolls through your whole body. A dull throb starts between your legs as Isagi focuses on just one. You bring his hand to your other one. 

“Like this,” You say, showing him “Gently,” 

He listens to your instruction well. A soft wave of pleasure settles over you as Isagi uses his mouth and hands to his heart's content. Mouth latched on your nipples, sucking slightly.

Isagi learns quickly, you realize. He tries something new and waits for your reactions and doesn’t push. He’s gentle but puts more pressure on if he thinks he’s losing you, focused on you and only you. 

You moan for him. It feels good. 

“Aah, Isagi.”

He pulls himself off slightly, eyes peaking up at you with a sense of satisfaction. Your skin is start to prick with that familiar desire, pooling in your gut. It’s vicious. He makes your head feel heavy with sin. You want to claim him unabashedly, a little eager to take something as precious as his first time. A flower you want to crush in your palm or snow packed under your feet - you take pleasure in breaking him down little by little. Delicate but yours to handle, you and Isagi have odd synergy. 

 Isagi becomes your center of gravity, your body pulled into him and his natural enigma. You want him and he wants you. That balance leaves your toes curling.

Desire drapes over your shoulders and weighs you. He’s pretty. Strong and toned muscles for his upper arms, a body built for athleticism. His hair is mussed in his face, sweat sticking slightly to his skin. 

Before you can regain your sense, your hand is creeping towards his waistband. He stares at you as your eyelids droop, undoing the zipper of his pants and pulling them down. You lock eyes as you slide them down as far as you can reach.

His legs are so much stronger than you were expecting, thick and sturdy as you pull them down past his legs. Your eyes settle on the tent on his pants, wrapping your palm around his cock through the fabric. He hisses hard at that, shuddering. 

“Fuck,” He grits, face twisted “Y-your hand.” 

“Isagi. Stand on your knees for me,” 

He looks confused for a minute, but eventually gets a hint. You prop yourself up on some pillows, urging Isagi forward until his bulge is closer to your face. Once he realizes the position he’s in, almost over your chest - his knees almost buckle. You can see him biting the inside of his cheek as you dip into his waistband. 

You pull his briefs of slow, cock hanging heavy. Isagi is thick with a hard curve left. The tip is shiny and wet, pre-cum leaking from it slow. Your heart pounds against your ribs, instinctively staring hard. Isagi is holding his breath.

You blow on it teasingly, watching him squirm. He’s so sensitive. You crane your neck up, pressing a wet kiss on the frenulum with purpose. His throat closes, air coming out in a choked moan. 

“Oh my god,” 

“Can I use my mouth?” You ask. He shakes his head no instantly.  

“I’ll cum f-for sure. Please don’t, don’t.” 

You chuckle at his insistence. 

“Okay, okay. My hand okay?” 

“Yeah, please.” 

You make a show of covering your hand with spit. Sticking your tongue out until they’re soaked and letting it drip down, sticky into your palm. Isagi looks like he’s going to fall out at any minute. You wrap your hands at the base of his shaft, slowly dragging your first until you’re cupped around the tip. He’s slick in your hands. You jerk him off slowly, not trying to overwhelm him. 

Isagi is a mess over you. He looks good. Sweat is beading down his chest, falling down his body. His head is tipped back, mouth open as he tries to figure out what to do with his hands. He’s throbbing so hard in your palms. It’d make you feel guilty to make him cum like this, but god he looks good on the edge.

He fucks into the little hole you’ve made with your fist, unintentionally. 

“Fuck, why d-does that feel so good,” He says, voice muffled by his own hand “Y-your hands are so fucking soft.” 

“You’re so good to me, Isagi. Nobody better,” 

“Ngh, y-you’re…” His thought is cut off by a smooth pull of your hands “Stop, please.”

You do instantly, watching as he catches his breath. 

“How am I supposed to hold that in…?” He says, genuinely at a loss. You can’t help but laugh. 

“Takes practice I think.” 

“You should cum first.” He concludes seriously.

“Any ideas on how you wanna do that?” You tease. 

“Thought I could give you head if you’re okay with it. I k-know I won’t be good right away but I—” 

You pat his thigh to catch his attention. 

“Stop freaking out and lay down between my legs.” 

His blush intensifies. You get yourself comfortable as Isagi readjusts so that he can be laying between your legs. Propping yourself up with the pillows behind you, you spread out so that Isagi can be comfortable. When he’s ready, you smooth his hair back. He’s staring at your thighs hard. 

“Do you know what you’re doing?” 

“Ah, a little?” 

You nod at him, laying back and watching. He takes a deep breath first, his hands splaying over the tops of your thighs before moving along the curve. The skin on skin makes your heart pitter patter. Isagi is always staring at your legs, but it’s taken you till now to realize he has a thing for your thighs. He rubs his cheek along your inner thigh, squeezing the fat between his fingers hard enough that it aches. 

His lips start at your inner knee, trailing up. Slow, wet kisses along the skin and tentative bit. Your breathing goes uneven, tension pouring into the room slowly like a billow of smoke. Isagi is so gentle but so wanting. His every touch is desperate and drunken. Everything you do is completely intoxicating to him, everything new and interesting. 

You didn’t think it would turn you on to see him put in so much effort. Unrefined and needy, always whimpering but determined. Stimulated by the littlest things, but most of all by turning you on. It’s like he’s someone else, when he switches to your other thigh to repeat the action. The dull drag of sharp teeth on skin like softening something before eating. It’s hard to stay still when you watch Isagi partake in consumption, when he looks at you like a gift bestowed to him. A little greedy to be used by you. Even if it mean chewing him up and spitting him up. 

You always knew he was dedicated. Always had that single-minded focus on his movements, never taking his eyes off you in any situation. Even when it was warranted, even when he was supposed to be looking at the scenery.

You think for the first time that you’re facing just how much Isagi wants you. And seeing him like that makes you understand why he was hesitating so much at first. The intensity of it is unbearable but exciting. You make him greedy and unforgiving. 

His breath is warm when it fans your cunt, a soft moan leaving his lips as he takes a deep inhale of you. You’re embarrassed but he isn’t. He presses another soft kiss on your clothed cunt, lips wetted by the soaked material. He does it again and again, like he’d kiss you. The realization breathes new life into your lust. 

“Pretty,” He mumbles, star-struck and tipsy on his own thirst “You’re so pretty.” 

You help him by taking off your panties and he moves aside so that they’re tossed on the ground somewhere before settling back between your legs. There’s no barriers this time, nothing to keep him away from you. 

His nose bumps your clit, tongue delving between your folds and collecting all the arousal in his mouth - swallowing slowly. The sensation makes your spine tingle, your body heat at a rapid increase. You tangle your fingers through his hair again, guiding his head to where you like. 

“Little to the side.” 

He nods against you, following your orders. You feel him right where you like it, the burning drag of his tongue as he suctions his mouth around it. It takes him a minute to adjust. His hands keep you company as he finds the right pressure and the right movements. The whole room feels like it’s melting around you. All the sensation in your limbs goes mellow, a softness to the feeling. Your senses are buzzing like the electricity lingering before a storm. 

Isagi is salacious when he sucks on your clit. Throbbing against his mouth with each pass, flat and rhythmic - not to slow or too fast. Isagi learns your body like he’s memorizing, drawing a path to the finish line. Worked up to the point of delirium, you find yourself rolling your hips. Your hand is clamped in his hair, dragging him to you harshly. You find Isagi likes when you’re a little mean to him, a little rough. An adrenaline junkie at heart, he moans when you rut yourself against his face. He doesn’t stop even once, merely following along with you. Moving in tandem. 

What he wants is written all over his face. It etched into his brow bone, drawn in the lines on his face. Please cum, over and over like a plea.

The coil in your stomach starts to grow tight as you stay like that. You can’t think about anything else, hands fisting hard in his hair. He moans against you, the reverb in your skin. 

“Isagi,” You pant, mouth open. You force yourself to keep your eyes open, to look at him while it happens “Cumming.”

Your whole body feels like it’s unraveling as you finish on his face. Isagi doesn’t pause from you. His eyes are closed and his tongue is nudging at your entrance - face buried in your cunt and soaking himself in it. The sound of him slurping fills the room, echoes on the walls and in the back of your head. You can hear his audible swallow as he tastes you, halfway between curiosity and full-blown perversion. He’s somewhere far off as the after waves hit, tremoring inside. 

You have to pull him off you to wake him up from his trance. The sight of his messy chin makes your heart pump. You wipe his chin with your thumb, pressing it to his lower hip. He’s confused at first but opens up anyways. 

“Suck on it.” 

His eyes go wide but he listens. Of course, he does, cleaning the arousal off of your digit. When he’s near done, you pull him up towards you and kiss him hard. For it being his first time, he did so well. You feel selfish all of a sudden. You want to keep him all to yourself. 

“Isagi,” You say his name softly when you pull apart, a string of saliva between you “You did so good.” 

“Ah, really? Then I’m happy.” 

“You’re so good to me, baby. What am I gonna do with you?” 

“...B-baby?”

“Yeah. That okay?” 

“More than okay, I just…woah. I really…” 

You look at him curiously.

“I really love you,” He confesses, words tumbling out of his lips so fast you think you’ll miss it “I was supposed to tell you when I got back but I kept putting it off and I know now seems like a bad time, but I really—” 

When the realization settles, you’re grinning ear to ear. Not that it’s unexpected, the timing is funny and so very Isagi. You shut him up with a kiss, making him melt into you. His hand comes up on your waist. 

“I love you too. Let’s make love, hm?” You offer, teasing. He flushes but doesn’t deny the idea. He’s sappy enough to like something like that you think.  

“Will you call me by my first name?” 

You look at him surprised before breaking out in a wider smile. 

“Yoichi,” You breath out, dragging the last syllable out as he swallows “Come fuck me.” 

“We don’t have condoms.” His voice sounds sad. 

“It’s fine.” 

“B-but—” 

“You don’t want to?” 

He looks at you grimly making you laugh. 

“I’m telling you it’s fine. Just trust me. It’s better raw, anyway.” 

Isagi hugs you this time, his face rubbing against your cheek with a frown. You can’t help but want to spoil him a little when you see him like this. No matter how famous he is, he’s really just a boy. The thought of that makes you happy. 

“You say stuff like that so easily.” 

“I’ve always been straightforward. Who asked who out, huh?” 

“Point taken,” 

“If you get it then, c’mon.” 

You watch as Isagi stands off to completely take his pants off. You take a minute to admire him naked, all the muscles and tanning on his body. The callouses in different places and a few scars from injuries littering his skin. He’s not very hairy, but where it is - it’s fine and wispy. He comes back to you naked, the bed dipping under his weight. 

He drags you down a little, letting you adjust to the new position. You find yourself comfortable on your back. The tip of Isagi’s cock is visible, weeping and hard over your cunt. 

“Normally, I’d make you prep me but I think it’s okay. Just go slow, ‘kay?” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Mhm.” 

He gives you a firm nod. Unsure of what to do, you watch as he spits in his hand to lube himself up. His eyes are mesmerizing a deep blue. Position himself at your entrance, you can’t tear your eyes away from his face. You’re so curious about his reaction. In a slow, slow thrust - you feel the tip start to nudge itself inside of you. The slick sound makes you shiver. 

His expression is pinched as he fucks into you so slowly. Almost like he’s in pain trying to keep himself steady. Your walls accommodate him nicely, slowly stretching around until they take on his shape. Everything feels like it’s spinning around you - the world tilted on it’s axis for minutes at a time. Maybe just because it’s Isagi but his cock makes you feel unsually good. It feels different than the other times you’ve had sex. Holding in a breath, he pushes himself in. One inch at a time, it’s agonizing for you.

You sneak a hand between your bodies. Isagis holds the top of your thighs, just at the curve of your hip as he penetrates. Fucks you languidly and softly and gently, with a grip in his fingers like he’s going to lose his fucking mind. He looks about ready to break, gasping each time he pushes further. 

“You’re so warm. Holy shit.” 

“You almost inside?” 

“Yeah, fuck.” 

Your whole body feels like it’s molded around his cock - stuck inside of you. When his pelvis hits yours, you let out a sigh of relief. He feels so fucking good. Snug and thick, his cock is so hard for you. He twitches rapidly as steels himself, holding you for support. You rub your clit lazily as you watch him, blinking slowly. 

“Yoichi.” 

His cock twitches hard inside of you. You wanna milk him dry, seeing him like that. He looks at you. 

“You can move.” 

You let out a gasp when you feel Isagi pull out only to fuck into you hard. The force of it is unexpected, but not bad. He breathes raggedly. You put your legs up until your ankles are just over his shoulder, reaching for a pillow to put under your back so he can stay stood on his knees and you can rest your legs. His hair is framing his face as he looks down at you, breathing raggedly. He places a kiss on your ankle before saying another. 

“Sorry, I can’t hold it, I want you so much.” 

“S’okay. Keep going.” 

You can’t keep control of yourself as Isagi pistons you. His thrusts are unexpectedly powerful, hips slamming in the back of your thighs every time he moves. It must be the core and leg strength. He thrusts like he’s practiced with something, makes you wonder if he’s ever fucked something on his own. It leaves you shivering, the intrusive way his cock stretched you out until there’s no longer any tension. Until you’re stretched around him completely so that he can fuck you as he pleases. 

The shift from discomfort to pleasure happens before you can screw your head on straight. Isagi fucks you impatiently. He’s looking at you but you can tell that he’s trying so hard not to cum. Teeth digging into his lower lip. He’s whimpering for you. Whining a little at how it feels but fucking you all that same. It’s imperfect and inexperienced - but he’s trying so hard to do it right that it doesn’t matter. You’re so turned on by him that it wouldn’t register.

“Yoichi,” You call out if only to get his attention. You smile when he looks at you “Does it feel good?” 

“Feels so good, fuck, I c-can’t.” 

“You’re fucking me so good.”

The praise has a shiver running down his back. 

“Oh my god.” 

You can feel another orgasm coming in. Isagi fills you deep, scratches an itch you could never get to on your own. He drags along your sensitive walls at an angle, rubbing your insides raw. Every nerve in your body is burning up from the inside out, like a sparkler in July heat. Your nerves are more tender than ever and Isagi toys with each one. All you can think about is how good his cock feels, even through his inexperience. 

It spreads through your body like blood in your veins, the bliss is so overwhelming it makes you motion sick. Your free hand playing with your clit twitches, the other one holding your chest to keep you occupied. Isagi moves you with each pound of hips, reaching the back of you. 

“Gonna cum soon,” You pant. 

“M-me too. I’m so fucking close, fuck.” 

You reach your orgasm in a haze, Isagi’s never slowing in his gestures. He fucks you through it, your whole body going taut with tension like the snap of a rubber band. Your hands fist in the sheets as the tension in your muscles melt, spasming around. 

 You don’t get a chance to say anything much before Isagi is following in your stead. His orgasm must hit hard because he’s cumming inside of as deep as he can go. His hands are secured around your thighs, digging into them as you feel the hot twitch of his cock before unloading into you. It’s warm as it spurts out in thick coats of white, a pleasant feeling making your head spin.

 Isagi is shaking above you, so you bend your knees so he can drop down over you. He nearly collapses on top of you, immediately snuggling up to you even while his cock is buried inside of you. You can’t believe he managed to last as long as he did. You press your lips to his forehead as he sighs in contentment over you. 

“Naughty boy.” You tease. He whines. 

“That felt so good I thought I was gonna die. Thank you” 

“Are you thanking me for making you cum right now? You’re so stupid.”

“Stupid in love.” He corrects, picking his head up to give you a smile. Breaking out into a fit of giggles, you give him another long kiss. Ridiculous. “And it’s not just for that. Just for pushing me. You always consider my feelings”

“You can be whatever you want with me, Yoichi.” 

“I’m so lucky.” He says sincerely, nuzzling up to you “My life is really great. It’s nice. Please don’t leave me by the way.” 

You can’t help but laugh at how honest he’s being. 

“Never. There’s still a lot left for you to learn, y’know?” 

“You’re gonna get me hard again.” He warns, faux serious. You shrug. 

“Not sorry.” 

#writing tag #isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi smut #isagi yoichi smut #bllk x reader #bluelock x reader #bluelock smut #bllk smut #this is so self indulgent its unbelievable