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lewdmommie · 11 months

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Just friends

Summary: can y/n manage being just friends?

Word count: 7.k

🎀Warning🎀:18+NSFW, oral sex, language, fluff, angst, violence, gore, sexual content,panic attack etc

(Like, comment, reblog for part four💗)

This is part 3 of one night stand

Part 1

Part 2

“We need to talk about yesterday.” You state firmly. Your tone was completely different from your usual lighthearted and funny personality. König and Ghost have quite literally seen you crack a joke in the middle of open gunfire. This was uncharted territory for them, whatever you were about to say had to be important. You take a deep breath, thinking of your next words carefully. The last thing you wanted was to hurt anyone again…especially König.

“Spit it out rookie.” Ghost says annoyed.

“Oh god how do I even say this…I feel something…something I can’t explain when I’m with you.” You look at König, he shifts nervously under your gaze.

“And with you.” Your head turns to face Ghost, staring into those glimmering obsidian eyes. He breaks eye contact looking far off into the distance without a word.

“I don’t know what it means but I know it’s something I can’t ignore.” Your brow scrunches as you choke the words out.

“I want to get to know you both and I’m here to ask for that opportunity. I’m here to ask you to be my friends. No titles. No rankings. No romance. Just…friends.” Your teeth nibble at your lower lip waiting for someone else to talk. It was nerve racking not being able to read their facial expressions. Their body language didn’t give much away either, you shift on your heels.

“That’s what you barged in here to ask for… friendship?” He slowly rises from his desk glaring in your direction.

“Well…yeah” Your voice is low.

“Do you really think friendship can fix everything?” Königs voice is dark, he speaks the word friendship as if it was something rancid on his tongue.

“I’m not saying it can I just…” you explain.

“I don’t need to be a part of whatever you two have going on. Leave. both of you.” Ghost barks.

“You seemed to be a part of it yesterday when you had your hands all over her.” König rasps, turning his killer gaze onto him. Ghost strides from behind the desk, his heavy footsteps fill the air as he takes slow deliberate steps forward. The tension is so thick you can cut it with a knife. A chill runs down your spine as you’re standing flush in between these skyscrapers. He stands tall looking König straight in the eyes, not even acknowledging your presence between them.

“I don’t like your tone colonel. I think you’d better change that.” His head tilts mockingly, sizing him up.

“I was just thinking the same thing about you sergeant.” He beams into him like white hot lasers.

“Hah, you’ve always been balsy König, could always count on you to get the job done. But I want you to remember something…you can beat them out there on that battlefield but here this is my territory and you won’t win.” He steps closer making sure he heard every word.

“Why don't we find out serg.” He says through clenched teeth. At this point you’re sure they have completely forgotten your existence . You plant your palms on ghosts chest pushing him back, he seemed to snap back to reality realizing you were still there.

“This isn’t the time or the place…no war within our army. Those are your words sergeant! As a leader you have to practice and enforce that as law. König I know you’re angry and have every right to be but last night was training and that’s all. I won’t keep repeating myself anymore, I get that it’s hard to trust but you’re going to have to try.” You scold.

“ Why do you care so much? How can you stand here and act like you know what I want. You don’t know anything. I’ve never given you the impression that-“ Simon rambles.

“I know it sounds stupid, crazy even, but I know you want to get closer to me Ghost.” You say gently, König tenses at the soft tone of your voice…had you ever spoken to him that way? He couldn’t recall a time you had, and that made him envious.

“You need someone. You’ve spent so much of your time in isolation, it’s time to let people in.” Never had he heard you sound so sure of yourself.

How could you break down his walls so easily, there is something about you that made him feel at ease. When he’s with you it feels like he’s allowed to smile,Things feel easier…happier. But he knew from experience things like this didn’t come so easy. People always get hurt when love is involved.

“And König…I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of being angry and resentful towards each other. These past few weeks have brought us closer together and I don’t want to ruin that with one misunderstanding.” His face burns tomato red under his mask, but he wouldn’t show it. His shoulder stiffen as if he’d been sliced across the chest. How could such beautiful words hurt this bad , you’d summed up his feelings for you perfectly but he couldn’t shake the thought of you being so involved with Ghost. Being your friend sounds like absolute torture but it was a ray of hope. Hope that one day maybe you would undoubtedly love him back. He felt like a lost puppy waiting to be owned by you…it was foolish but he couldn’t stop himself. Your naivety muddled the fact that this would be war and you were the prize.

“It has always been you. I’ve got so much blood on my hands it could run a river red and yet you were granted the title of sergeant. You’ve somehow made sure I was one step below you but that’s gonna change. You said I couldn’t win…watch me.” He says sharply.

“So this is your playing field…her?” Ghost looks you up and down with judgmental eyes. You grimace wondering why he looked so unimpressed.

“Hah, fine I’ll bite. What are the rules of the game?” Ghost chuckles, you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“We get individual days to spend with y/n and the other person cannot interfere.”

“And what about the days that aren’t accounted for?” His head tilts curiously.

“First come first serve. It’s up to y/n who she would want to spend that free time with even though I know it’ll be me. No one likes being around you.” König taunts, it isn’t clear if it’s the jealousy talking or the militant hunger for victory. Either way you didn’t appreciate them auctioning off your time and affection like some silly little game.

“You’re on. It’s about time I remind you of your place, colonel.” He reaches out an open palm, König grasps it firmly, shaking on the terms.

It’s like everything you said completely went over their heads but you knew it would take patience and time to build a stronger relationship with them. If thinking of it as a competition got them on board, then you’d just have to play along.

Your arms tremble as you push the weighted bar up with all your strength. Your shoulders burn with each rep begging for a break, to your body’s dismay, you were just warming up. You look up into caramel colored eyes, Maya smiles down at you as she helps support the weight of the bar. With a final push you line it up with the metal stand, it lands with a loud crack. You sit up, sweat pouring down your face. Maya removes the white towel from around her neck, she dabs away the stray droplets as they fall. She was always right there at your side helping you with even the tiniest of things.

“Remember to hydrate. The body can lose up to 10 liters of water a day when active.” She hands you her purple water bottle.

“Your knowledge never ceases to amaze me, you're gonna make a great doctor one day.” You tip the bottle up, taking several gulps before coming back up for air. Maya’s eyes softened, she needed to hear that; with all the death and injuries on base that passion could be lost. She is a practicing apprentice Doctor on base as she studies remotely to get her doctorate in medical science. Balancing education with active military duty was no easy feat, personal attachment can get in the way. People she laughed with, pulled pranks on, sat and had meals with…had died in her arms. Brutal excruciating deaths that she could do nothing about. No matter how hard she tried to save everyone…their blood still stained her hands. She thought often about what she would do if you got hurt…could she save you? Maya shakes the negative thoughts away reminding herself that you were one of the special forces best. You may be a handful but you were damn good at your job.

“Thank you y/n, you don’t know how much that means to me.” She stamps a kiss on your forehead.

“I walked in on Sergeant Ghost and Colonel König talking about some new intel on the target. There might be a raid soon, I know how anxious you are with new missions.” A look of discomfort flashes on her face leaving just as quickly. She puts on a fake smile not wanting to put any more stress on you. You were the one who would be out there on the front lines risking your life and she didn’t want to worry you.

“I’m okay,really, you get used to it.” You weren’t sure if she was trying to convince you or herself.

“If you ever need to talk…I am here Maya. I’m always here.” You bore into her with sincere eyes.

“and that’s why you’re my best friend. Now come on, we gotta keep that heart rate up.” She takes your hand, helping you to your feet. The two of you walked over to the pull up bar, arm day was not fun…at all. Your muscles were already achy and tired but you had to push in order to build endurance.

“Can’t I just work on legs today, that’s so much easier.” You whine, Maya laughs patting your lower back.

“As much as I agree with that statement, no. You handle high caliber weaponry. if you’re not strong, All that push back could damage your muscles.” She raises her arms holding the stretches in ten second intervals. Because of her insane height there is no need to use a stepping ladder, she simply reaches up and gets to work. Her fingers graze the bar before pulling back suddenly.

“I forgot my chalk, it helps prevent blisters, I’ll be back. Go ahead and start your sets without me. I gotta run back to our room.” She jogs off leaving you standing alone in the gym. You always felt slightly self conscious being in the weight room without a partner. Like everyone was watching you. Judging you. In reality no one even glanced your way but that didn’t stop the anxiety from striking. A small tremor shakes your hands as you reach up for the bar. It’s way too tall to grab on your own, Maya was usually there to give you a lift. You scan the area for a spare stepping stool or chair but everything is occupied. Eyes. Eyes everywhere. There looked to be two of everything as your vision doubled.The room begins to spin and your knees feel weak, where was Maya? When would she be back? Maya? Maya? Maya?!

“Y/n look at me. Are you okay? Should I take you to the infirmary?” Your vision begins to focus turning the two ghosts in front of you, into one. Your breathing is shaky, you nod unable to speak. His head tilts forward with concern, his bare hand cups

your elbow as he pulls you closer.

“Your eye movements are unsteady,breathing accelerated, pupils dilated…you’re having a panic attack. Talk to me y/n what is distressing you?” His voice is gentle, calming even.

“People. Just so many people. M-Maya left… I’m alone. I-I don’t like being alone.”you choke. His heart breaks at your words, loneliness was no stranger to him. Thinking back, Ghost couldn’t recall a time when you weren’t surrounded by people. He figured it’s because of how likable and fun you were but now the dots began to connect. You made sure to never be alone because it scared you…just like it scared him.

“I’ll stay with you.” His voice was earnest, he surprised himself with his sudden reaction. Normally Ghost worked out alone as he did with most things. But he wanted to help you, seeing you so shaken up tugged at something deep inside him.

“That’s it…slow deep breaths. One…two… exhale three. Very good.” He coaches. He looked to be very familiar with this sort of thing, you wondered if he’d dealt with this before. Ghost didn’t seem like the type to deal with anxiousness, he was always so cool headed.

“I’m good now.” You huff.

“Are you sure? We can go somewhere more private.” Your face heats up at his word choice, you remember the wet dream from just nights ago.

“N-no I’m fine, I still have a few sets to do.” You slide your elbow from his grasp.

“Then let’s do it… I assume your next set is pull ups and judging by your size, you usually have Maya help you up?” He hypothesized walking behind you to examine the bar.

“Yeah Maya always lifts me up-“ your words are cut off by his strong hands sinking into your waist. His fingers press into the soft plush of your hips, the crotch of his cargos rubs against your ass. His eyes fall low as he stares down at you, his thumb absentmindedly drawing circles. You don’t speak up, getting lost in the comfort of his touch. The rush of his heart vibrates through your back, the rise and fall of his chest quickens. You can hear the heaviness in his breath, the heat in his mask makes sweat bead at his brow. This isn’t the first time your bodies have met this closely but somehow this felt…Different. You snap to the reality that there is a room full of people here witnessing this moment. That idea made you focus on the initial goal…pull ups.

“I’m ready.” You assure, jumping as he hoists your body up with ease. Your fingers begin to slip, ghost bounces you up, allowing you to readjust the grip.

Even with the extra help, your arms burn as you pull the entirety of your weight up and over the bar. Your chin taps the cool metal marking one successful rep, ghost pats your thigh.

“Good job, make sure you’re breathing with each pull.” He instructs, his arms squish the fluff of your upper thighs. You nod, extending the length of your arms preparing for the next pull. Ghost is painfully aware of how your ass is pressed against his upper chest. His face is inches from the smooth damp skin of your back, his eyes track the small trickle of sweat that runs down your spine. He says a silent prayer, begging not to get hard in front of his subordinates. Even the slightest touch of your body drove him fucking mad, he’d been attracted to women before but never like this. Those thoughts were always intrusive and fleeting, he didn't let his mind wander too deeply but you…he imagined ripping those mauve pink leggings open and ramming every solid inch of his cock inside you. He hated how much control you had over him without even trying.

“I-I can’t take anymore” you groan, feeling the intense burning sensation growing in your arms.

Oh come on, he thinks. You couldn’t have chosen a better word choice, a shock shoots up his leg activating his dormant member. He nearly drops you as the mirror shows him a glimpse of his hard dick poking through his gray sweatpants. He couldn’t let you see him like this, before you could blink your feet were on the ground and ghost was B lining it to the men’s locker room.

“Hey wait where are you going?!” You call as he scurries away. He doesn’t turn around or even answer as he disappears into the white locker room door. Well that was rude, you think. You were used to him treating you like some kind of germ but this seemed off and you couldn’t put your finger on it.

There still hadn’t been any sign of Maya since earlier in the weight room, a sinking feeling pulls at your stomach. It wasn’t like her to just up and disappear without saying a word . The military base wasn’t the biggest in the world so there weren't many places she could have gone. Your eyes scan the mess hall landing on the table you two usually shared. Empty. No sign of her at all, you begin to worry what would keep her from eating lunch. Lunch is Maya’s favorite time of day apart from breakfast and dinner, this was strange. You look at the lunch line and physically cringe when you see that ominous brown paper bag with your name on it. It wouldn’t bother you one bit if you never saw another peanut butter and jelly ever again. You snake through the crowd and head toward the exit deciding to go search for her, it’s what she would have done for you. Just as you burst out of the sea of soldiers there is a deep voice bellowing down the long tan hallway.

“Y/n” a voice rumbles in the distance. Loud heavy footsteps shake the ground as König jogs in your direction.

“I didn’t see you in the mess hall, have you eaten already?” His words are rushed and nervous.

“No I haven’t, I was actually going to-“ he chimes in disregarding the rest of your sentence.

“That’s perfect! I wanted to invite you to have lunch with me.” His voice sounds energetic.

“Well I was just about to go look for Maya…” you trail looking around trying to spot her.

“Oh I saw her a few minutes ago when I was walking past the infirmary.” He says. The infirmary should have been the first place you looked, Maya did tons of overtime with Dr.Bradshaw. Extra hours counted as field work for her university grade, but overworking wasn’t always a good sign for her. You take a mental note to ask her later not wanting to disturb her study time with the Doctor. There was a nagging urge to ask König exactly what she was up to when he saw her but you decided not to snoop. If there was an issue she would come to you about it, you were always there for her and she knew that…or at least you hoped she did.

“Oh okay then I’ll just talk to her later thanks.” You spin on your heels ready to jog back to the cafeteria. A leather gloved hand entraps your wrist, holding you still. Your head whips around staring up into his forest green eyes, they dart back and forth searching your face.

“I’m sorry, I-I uh did you have plans for lunch today? If so I completely understand…I know you might still be worried about Maya.” His voice is shaky.

“No I don’t have plans for lunch, ugh I’m the one who should be sorry I almost blew you off just now. What kind of friend am I?” You joke. His chest tightens at the word friend, he drops your hand back to your side. It catches your attention but you breeze by it not wanting to cause any damage.

“I’d love to have lunch with you König.” You say enthusiastically trying to salvage the situation.

“Perfect. Let’s go, try to act normal.” He nods in the directions of the exit motioning you to follow his lead. You had a feeling this was going to be another mission impossible, König mixed with the words “act normal” never turned out good. Since the recent feud with ghost he was more rebellious than ever. You cautiously walk behind him trailing him out of the double doors, the sun beats down on your skin. Your eyes squint from the sudden lighting change, your hand lifts to shade your forehead blocking out the brightness. Las Almas Mexico was a beautiful mountainous place with endless desert views. There were small cities with an economy based on agriculture and farming. Like every major metropolitan region there are city areas for entertainment and tourism. The base was quite a distance from those areas, the deserts granted seclusion. Most of the drug activity and gang violence originated in the city areas. Although there were plenty of small gangs they all worked under the one major crime organization in the city…The Las Almas Cartel. The whole reason for your special forces deployment was to monitor and take down this organization. They participated in egregious crimes against the residents of Las Almas and helped push the drug epidemic throughout multiple countries. You walk forward,your shoulder brushes his arm ever so slightly. His eyes shift away with embarrassment, he hadn’t touched you since that night. People chirp hello’s as you slip through the ocean of workers, there were so many familiar happy faces in the crowd. You are grateful König is by your side or all the attention could have become overwhelming very quickly. It warmed your heart to be loved by so many but it became exhausting, always chasing approval from others.

König senses a shift in your mood, boldly, he rests his big hand on your lower back; ushering you along. He leads you to the vehicle repair and storage shed. There are lanes wall to wall filled with earth toned military vehicles ranging from Humvee’s to M113’s.

“Oh hey y/n! What are you doing all the way out here darlin’?” His southern twang is thick. The dimples in his cheeks deepen as he smiles toothy and big. His giant veiny hands stain the white cloth as he wipes away black sludge.

“Hey Jack, I hope we didn’t interrupt your work.”

“You could never bother me y/n seeing you is always a treat. Speaking of treats, where’s ol doll face Maya I haven’t gotten my daily fix of her.” He laughs. Jack was a flirt that was no secret but everyone knew about his unrequited love for Maya. Most people found her attractive but Jack’s feelings were public, making sure to scare off anyone who thought about making a move. They were just like an old married couple, arguing about any and everything.

“She’s working in the infirmary.” You explain.

“I’m gonna have to go and pay her a visit, she can’t run forever.” Wrinkles form at the corner of his eyes as he smiles ear to ear.

You can’t help but cheese at his friendly face. König didn’t appreciate Jack's lingering gaze. His eyes slit with annoyance, why were you smiling at him like that? He thinks burning with jealousy.

“I’m taking a Jeep on patrol.” He stated plainly.

“Sure thing, I’ll just need to see that authorization letter from the sergeant.” He says wiping the oil from his cheek.

“I am your Colonel. I grant myself authorization.” His arms fold over his chest as he stands tall and confident.

“But the sergeant said-“ Jack starts.

“Unless you want to be scrubbing toilets for a week I suggest you give me the keys. If not, I’ll just have to report you for interference with a mandatory patrol. Are we clear?” His voice is stern. You find yourself gawking at him. his power had you melting in his gloved palm. König didn’t like abusing his power but there was no way he’d go beg ghost to allow him to take you out. If he wanted you to himself he would make that happen at any cost. It didn’t matter who he had to step over as long as he got to be with you. Jack stares him down for a moment weighing out his options, he could either disobey Ghost and get punished or disobey König and get punished. Great choices he think’s sarcastically.

“Look, if you’re gonna take her out you gotta be back before sunset or else ghost is gonna be on my ass…deal?” He extends a hand to König.

“Deal.” He takes his hand firmly.

“Here I just did an oil change on her so she’s the best I’ve got right now. I’m still repair’n the others.” He tosses him a set of Keys with a dog tag attached. König nods, throwing his black duffel bag in the back seat. You never understood the idea of jeeps being doorless but as you hop in it makes a little more sense. If you’re being shot at you could literally jump right in. You chuckle at the ridiculous thought of you diving into a moving jeep.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, clicking his seat belt and cranking the ignition.

“Nothing, it's dumb.” You laugh tugging the seat belt over your chest. He chuckles backing out of the garage. His arm lays across the back of your headrest as he looks behind him making sure no one was there. Your thighs clench at his focused body language, how did he manage to turn you on with such mundane tasks. The car whips around, he straightens the wheel and puts the gear in drive.

An armed soldier from the gate walks up to the driver's side scoping out the inside of the car.

“Colonel. Where are you headed?” He salutes.

“Me and y/n will be holding a patrol unit on the mountain. There’s been reports of suspicious activity by the locals.” He lies smoothly. The mask came in handy since without it every emotion he felt would be on display. König is, unbenounced to everyone else,a terrible liar. His face gives him away every time. Despite what people think he could be read like a book if it wasn’t for the mask.

“Yes sir. Open the gate!” He calls.

König’s shoulders relax as the metal gates swing open. Mission accomplished. He finally had you to himself for a day. After spotting your workout with the sergeant; he had to find a way to steal your attention back. Your head leans out the door watching in awe as the ground gets further away. The mountain road is bumpy and narrow, your hand grips the seatbelt tightly.

“Scared of heights?” He asks, looking over at you with concern.

“Of course not, keep your eyes on the road.” You scold.

“You know it doesn’t help to look down.” He reaches over, tugging your chin away from the ground. His fingers linger for a second before returning to the wheel. You’d seen this view from the chopper when you first arrived on base but this is a new perspective and it is gorgeous. The cacti bloomed with tiny magenta flowers, the dry soil cracked into interesting shapes. Small animals poke their heads from the grooves in the ground,and Even the sky is clear and vast. If maps didn’t exist you’d have sworn the land stretched on forever. The heat is also comforting, the sun wraps you in a tight embrace kissing your skin. You wished you could see his face, you wondered if he was enamored with the scenery just as you are.

“It’s amazing isn’t it…like a whole new world.” He breathes looking around curiously. One hand gripped the wheel and the other pointed to a viper green snake in the distance.

“Did you see that?!” He exclaims excitedly.

“I did.” You say softly.

He coughs awkwardly, he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you but animals are his weakness. He felt an obligation to protect creatures smaller than him, what better way to use his gigantic size. After what felt like an eternity he pulls into an open area at the top of the mountain overlooking the base. He puts the car in park and takes the key from the ignition. You unbuckle your seatbelt, turning your body to hop down; König jogs around the vehicle blocking your path.

“Allow me.” He pretends to open an invisible door.

You jump down and punch his arm playfully. You both laugh filling the open air with joy. He admires you bent over laughing from your gut, a real laugh, that’s when you were most beautiful. He loved seeing happiness radiate from you, you wore it well. He wanted to make everyday a good day filled with bliss, he dreamed of one day being the one to make that a reality for you. He swings his duffel bag out with a huff walking over to a clear patch of land. With razor focus he unzips the bag unloading its contents onto the sandy ground. He lays a green blanket down before laying zip lock bags of mystery foods on to the cloth. To finish off the set up he sets up two colas on either side of the picnic blanket. It was one of the cutest things you’ve ever seen, he plops down in the blanket waving you over. You can’t help but smile at the exquisite dining arrangement designed by the renowned König.

“Beautiful set up chef.” You joke.

“On today’s menu we have the chefs’ choice…Ham and cheese sandwich. My secret ingredient is melted cheese courtesy of today’s weather. Strawberries, hand picked by me from the local farmers market. And two delicious warm cokes.” Your nose scrunches in disgust, earning a hearty laugh from the colonel. His laugh was like liquid gold, it rumbled deep, shaking your core. It’s a shame others didn’t get to witness this playful side of him.

“Sounds… yummy.” You say snagging a ham sandwich. You unzip the bag and have an experimental bite. To your surprise it’s not too bad, somehow the sun melted cheese worked. Not something you’d have regularly for a snack but the fact that König cooked it, made it taste better. You can’t imagine him moving around the kitchen, did he keep the mask on or take it off? You giggle at the image of him with an apron and mask on.

“You’re always giggling and I’m never a part of the joke.” He pouts.

“I was just imagining you cooking in a cute little apron. Would you keep the mask on or take it off.” You tease.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He slips his sandwich under the hem of his mask, taking a bite. At this angle the sunlight glows behind you like a halo. König admires how angelic you are, he didn’t understand how someone could look so perfect. There wasn’t a word in any language that could describe your beauty, inside and out you were radiant. A rose blush sweeps his face, he looks away realizing how long he’s been staring. Butterflies flutter in your stomach.You turn away relocating your attention to the incredible view. At this height the wind whips strongly , blowing a cool breeze through the air. You close your eyes tilting your face to the sky, his eyes trail down your neck peering at the steady thump of your vein. He remembers the way you look with your pulse beating out of control;lustful eye low eyes staring back at him. That night you took a piece of him with you, he has never been so needy for a woman in his life. In a metaphorical sense you were a succubus and he would gladly give up his soul.

“God you’re gorgeous.” He breathes. Your eyes widen as you stammer for words nervously.

“W-what, you can’t just say that out of nowhere.” You stutter.

“Should I give you a warning next time?” He flirts.

“You’re always messing with me.” You slap his hand. He smirks loving how you crumble for him. He reaches over to grab the bag of fresh strawberries, his palm brushes the base of your thigh. He slides a berry under his mask, making a sound of approval.

“Mmm. These are really good. Try it.” He plucks a strawberry from the bag, holding it up to your lips.

You’re hesitant for a while looking at the berry in disbelief, he couldn’t be serious. This is definitely not something friends do but you do have a habit of overthinking things. Maybe this is one of those things, it’s just a strawberry, nothing less, and nothing more. You nod coyly, leaning in and wrapping your plump lips around the fruit as your teeth sink in; taking a small bite. His jaw tenses as he fights back the urge to lick the sticky juices from your mouth. With his free hand he lifts his mask, exposing the lower portion of his face. There is an intensity behind his eyes as he slides the rest of your half eaten berry past his blushed lips.

“You’re right, these are…really…good.” You trail as he closes the distance between you.

“Here, have some more then.” He bites another one. His giant hand rests at the back of your neck pulling you closer inch by inch. All thoughts evacuate your mind as his soft breath brushes your lips. He’s so close you can almost taste him. So achingly close that it makes your heart leap right out of your chest. Why was he doing this to you, making you yearn to feel him again. Reminding you of the mind bending orgasms he gave you that night. It wasn’t fair, how could you be friends when he is so irresistible? You can’t. You shouldn’t. You won’t. He brushes his soft warm lips over yours begging for permission, pleading for just one kiss. You did. You’re caught in his net as your lips meld desperately in a symphony of passion. His tongue spreads the strawberry nectar across your taste buds making the kiss intoxicatingly sweet. He shifts onto his knees towering over you, never breaking the kiss. He leans down deepening it, gripping the curve of your hips; a camo clad knee forces through the barrier of your thighs. It’s feverish and greedy, he kisses you like he’ll never get the chance to again. Your back arches into his touch, a loud moan echoes through the mountain as he teases your pulsing clit. The friction was unbearable, it felt good but it wasn’t enough. You wanted, no, needed more. Your pussy quivers as he breaks the kiss to nip at the sensitive skin of your neck.

“W-we can’t. Friends don’t uhn-friends can’t do this.”You pant.

“I want to please you. I didn’t get to show you all of my tricks last time.” He whispers seductively. He pushes you back onto your elbows, clearing the picnic blanket in one swoop of his hand. You stare down at him, your breathing is erratic wondering what his next move will be. Strong calloused fingers work the complicated buckle of your work pants. Soon your pants are not only unbuckled but being slid down the length of your legs. Your chunky black combat boots prevented them from going any further so naturally he removed those too; leaving you completely exposed from the waist down. You couldn’t believe you were letting this happen and in a desert nonetheless. König wastes no time grasping your hips and lifting your pelvis, leveling your pussy with his eager mouth. Your shoulders and head rest on the blanket while your lower half is suspended upward; legs dangling on his hunched shoulders. Even with him leaning over, your ass is still elevated at a staggering height. You’re completely at his mercy, no matter how much you squirm his grip is iron tight. The black fabric of his mask sits on the plush of your mound hiding his face as he kisses your warm lower lips. You couldn’t see anything from this angle and the mask added even more security to his next action. You watch the clouds move up above as he traces the glazed slit of your entrance, your hips buck in response. A quiet whimper vibrates your skin as he tastes you for the first time, the scent of your arousal fills the limited space in his mask. Every breath he took was filled with you, that one lick already had his dick frustratingly hard and throbbing.

“Du schmeckst so verdammt fantastisch (you taste so fucking amazing)” he mumbles into your heat. It’s impossible to hold back any more, his tongue slithers up and down the slippery split of your cunt. The tip of his tongue draws circles around your stiff clit, he nips and sucks at the bundle of nerves making your legs shake. His hands sink into your thighs as he pushes deeper into your delectable pussy. The thick flat of his tongue laps at your labia teasing the wet folds of your outer sex. Your muscles contract as he explores every crevice of your dewy flower, your juices dribble down his chin as he teases the perimeter of your tight hole. You grind up into his face wanting him to go further tasting the deepest parts of your sweetness. His hands release your thighs leaving the heavy lifting to your core strength. Your body shakes as you fight to stay in this position not wanting the pleasure to end.

“That’s it, you're doing so good Schatz(love) you’re going to have to put in some work to cum.” He breathes. His hands tug at your shirt fighting to push it up past your breast. You decide to help him out, lifting your shirt and black bra in one motion; your nipples are stiff with arousal. He rolls your hard peaks between his fingers, teasing and caressing the sensitive buds. Your mouth falls slack as his tongue eases into you, your walls clench as he strokes your inner velvet. A sloshing wet sound fills the air as he fucks your cunt with his long skillful tongue. Your hands fist the blanket as you become overwhelmed by all the sensations. How could something wrong feel so good.

“No no no you can’t cum yet, I am still enjoying my meal.” He reprimands. You bite your lip and stare up at him with pleading teary eyes.

“P-please let me cum, s’to much c-can’t hold it please.” You cry.

“Look at me Prinzessin. Focus on me. Just like that, I’m so proud of you. Don’t give up beautiful. You're taking it so well.” He praises, locking eyes with you. He feels your pussy flutter on his tongue as you fight the urge to drench his face. He sucks your clit into his mouth gently, with a final pull sending you tumbling over the edge.

“I’m g-gonna cum, need to cum fuck-“

Your spent cunt spurts delicious cream all over Königs face, drenching his mask.

“Look at the mess you made. Naughty girl.” He eases your body back to the ground, licking his lips. You lie there twitching, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Suns going down. We’d better start heading back to base.” He says in a disappointed tone. He wished this day could last forever but that wasn’t realistic. The last thing he wanted to deal with was ghost pulling rank on him again. You nod helping him pack his duffel bag, he smiles as your hands brush when reaching for the same items.

“I had so much fun with you today.” You chat loading the leftover snacks into the bag.

“Me too. We should come back here soon, I’ll pack better lunches next time.” He promises, throwing the bag over his shoulder.

“Everything was perfect. I wouldn’t change a thing.” You assure, swallowing back the feelings of regret. What did this mean moving forward, did you make the mistake of leading him on again? König catches a glimpse of doubt on your face and speaks up.

“Today…never happened. We hung out, as friends.” He pats your head. You smile up at him appreciating his kindness and understanding, he knew you never meant to hurt him. Today was all on him, he took that step knowing what it meant and he’d do it again. He knows you need time to figure things out and he was done being impatient. He is sure about his feelings for you and is willing to wait as long as it takes.

“Let’s go.” He taps your butt as he walks by. You gasp smacking his back in return,trailing behind him to the jeep. He tosses the duffle bag in the back seat, walking around to help you into the car.

You stop in your tracks peering up into his beautiful lush green eyes, his heart thumps rapidly.

“Did you forget something?” He asks.

“No. You’re just…incredible you know that.”

“Y/n I-Get down!” He leaps forward shielding your body as you two tumble to the ground in a panic.

“Ah! Scheisse! I’ve been hit.” He groans, squeezing the oozing gunshot wound. A ringing sounds in your ears from the blast, everything moves in slow motion as you help him limp to the Jeep.

“A fucking sniper. We have to move! Now! Drive” he instructs baring down his teeth, holding back a scream. His leg is on fire, blood spurts between his fingers as he applies pressure. The gas pedal is touching the floor as you push the vehicle as fast as it’ll go. Your fist beats down on the horn trying to alert the front gate you’re coming in hot. one hand swerves the wheel frantically twisting and turning and the other is on Königs head holding him close as you quick fire words of affirmation.

“It’s gonna be okay, please stay with me. Hang on alittle longer. König? König?! Fuck!” You sob whipping the wheel back and forth making it harder for the snipe to aim. His consciousness begins to fade from the excessive blood loss; the once cream flooring of the Jeep is now a cherry red. His hand goes limp as he faints no longer applying pressure to the wound. He’s fading fast.

“No no no wake up. I know you’re sleepy but stay with me please please König we’re almost there.” Tears stream down your face as you beat down on the horn. The gate is a few feet away, the soldier on guard sees you approaching at 150 miles an hour. He sounds the alarm, triggering the gate to open up slowly. You can’t let up on the speed it’s too late, you have to push it. Any further delay could cost him his life, you slam your foot to the floor giving it all you’ve got. A loud crack slices through the air as you burst through the half opened gate, taking the side view mirrors off in the process. Both feet hit the brakes forcing you to a violent stop. You jump out, yelling for back up.

“Please help me, he's hit! The colonel has been shot! Please he isn’t responding help me!” You scream, wrapping your hands around his calf trying to stop the bleeding.

“Y/n! What happened?!” Maya runs up taking off her shirt to use as a makeshift tourniquet.

“They shot him.” You hyperventilate.

“Who shot him?! Get him to the operating room now!” She barks at the nearby soldiers.

“I-I don’t know…” you sob watching the men carry him away.

To be continued?…

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jihyoruri · 6 months

Text

OBSESSED — idol!sakura miyawaki x idol reader warnings: yn is a member of blackpink, sakura is obsessed with yn, sakura is also a little impulsive

she watched as the girl gracefully walked past her and group, the sounds from the stage and all around filled the japanese girls ears as her gaze scanned over you, from your pretty face all the way down to your body how can someone be so graceful?

oh how she hated you oh she hated you so much.

sakura honestly thought that she’d never have to run into you in person but oh how she was wrong, when the hell did mandatory award shows become a thing?

your group was known for not coming to award shows, it was yg thing she could say or could she say a blackpink thing? the groups social status is so big that award shows just weren’t that important at the moment, nobody thought that biggest girl group would be here.

she really hoped the biggest girl group wouldn’t be here, she hoped you wouldn’t be here.

but when she saw the biggest boy group along with other big third generation acts walking the red carpet, she knew you would be here.

she tried her best to keep her eyes off of you, she really did try but she couldn’t, how could someone be so perfect?

sakura knew everything about the certain blackpink member all the way down to her blood type, she’s spent days analyzing your vlogs, your fancams, your interviews you’d think she was in love with yn with the way she knew so much about you.

but she couldn’t help it, she needed to know why you had everyone so wrapped around your finger.

she needed to why her girlfriend had such a perfect ex?

she couldn’t keep her gaze off of you after you walked past her and her group, you were so close to her is she hallucinating or could she smell you? was your perfume that strong?

she watched as you sat with your group, your presence so strong that everyone’s eyes were on you and the way you softly whispered to jennie with an even more soft smile of your face.

sakura felt herself subconsciously fix her posture when she saw how perfect yours was, she felt someone nudge her shoulder but she didn’t respond just completely keeping her gaze on you.

“oh my gosh, why are you staring at her like that?”

sakura turned her head immediately at yunjin who looked at her with question.

“what?” the girl responded, brushing her hair out of her face bashfully, “staring at who?”

“yn sunbaenim.” yunjin says nodding towards the girl that had sakura so infuriated, “I get it she’s ethereal but you’re shooting laser beams into her head.”

sakura groaned and leaned her head back, was she that obvious?

“shouldn’t you be staring at your girlfriend?” yunjin added before pointing towards the group that sat right beside blackpink, twice.

sakura immediately took a look at her girlfriend before taking a look at you, this is her nightmare come true.

sakura cleared her throat and placed her hands in her lap, “if you may know that’s her ex…”

there was silence for a minute before yunjin hit her shoulder, “shut up! no way.”

“yn is sana’s ex?” the girl says rather loudly grabbing the attention of their leader, chaewon leaned over to them shock on her face, “is that why you asked me why her nose is so perfect angrily the other day?”

sakura opens her mouth but the sound of loud music cut her off, implying that the award show was going to start so instead she just waved the two girls off.

once the mc started talking, sakura found her eyes making their way to yn again, but this time she wasn’t met with the girls back of her head she was met with the girls side profile which was unfairly perfect I’m sakura’s eyes.

she watched as yn talked quietly to lisa, she picked up on how graceful the girls mannerisms were. it was like everything she did was perfect.

before sakura could find herself getting to deep into her thoughts about you, yunjins voice rang through her head, “shouldn’t you be staring at your girlfriend?”

sakura looked at her girlfriends group, easily finding her girlfriends head but just like yn instead of the back of sana’s head, sakura is met with the girls side profile.

she followed where sana’s head was directed only for it to lead to yn, sakura raised a brow as she watched her girlfriend stare at you.

now this was her problem, how do you have such a hold on everyone? how do you still have such a hold on her girlfriend? was yn really just that perfect?

yes, yes you were.

and sakura knew that, of course she knew that, she practically knew everything about you, but it still wasn’t enough for her.

she wanted to feel what you made sana feel, what you made everyone around you feel.

the rest of the award show was blur for sakura, she couldn’t even remember how it felt when she was performing but what she did remember was when blackpink came up for their award.

sakura was in awe when you walked up on that stage your face big on the screen, it seemed like the camera man was just as in love with you as everyone else.

sakura didn’t even listen to the words that came out of your mouth when your members pushed you, their youngest member to the mic, all she could do was stare at your beauty.

it took everything in sakura to look away from you, the only thing going through her head is how lucky sana was.

sakura felt a big surge of relief when the show was over, she could finally go home and not have your presence weighing on her.

“can you get us some water bottles? I saw some in the hall.” chaewon asks sakura who nods and makes her way out of their backstage room.

she gets a text from her girlfriend she tells her that her group already left so they won’t be able to see each other tonight. sakura was too into her phone to even realize the body in front of her.

sakura bumps right into the girls back causing both of them to stumble.

“oh my gosh I’m so sorr-” sakura cuts herself off when he realizes who’s in front of her, oh my gosh.

“oh, its okay.” you say brushing yourself off before flashing sakura a charming smile making the girl want to gouge her eyes out. “you’re sana’s girlfriend right? I know her pretty well.”

sakura just stands there not answering cause you to look at her in confusion, “uh, are you okay?”

embarrassment finds its way to sakura’s face as she shakes of her nerves, “yeah I’m okay, I’m so sorry and yes I am sana’s girlfriend.” she says rushingly.

“how is she? I haven’t talk to her in a while.” you ask.

“she’s good.” sakura says calmly, but she’s freaking out on the inside, she’s talking to the girl that’s been on her mind since her and sana started dating. “congratulations on your award I’m a big fan.” literally.

“thank you so much.” yn says brightly, “you’re performance was amazing, the choreo was interesting it looks fun to learn.”

before sakura’s brain can even process anything it comes out of her mouth, “maybe I can teach you it.” she cringes before cursing herself, why would her girlfriends ex girlfriend want to learn from her?

you raise a brow before smiling and putting a hand on sakura’s shoulder and she feels herself going weak, “that would be so cool.”

sakura feels relief wash all over her and a smile makes its way to her face, she’s finally going to the see the real you, the you that has everyone wrapped around your finger.

she’s finally going to experience what everyone feels.

“text me.” you say before walking in the opposite direction, probably to your members.

sakura watches as you walk away, her stomach all I knots before she realizes, “wait- I don’t have your number.”

“ask sana.” yn says over her shoulder sending sakura another heart melting smile.

sakura stares before looking down at her phone, ask sana..

sana shouldn’t have a problem with her ex girlfriend and girlfriend hanging out right? she would probably be happy seeing the two of you being friends.

right?

#sakura miyawaki #Lesserafim #lesserafim headcanons #lesserafim x reader #sakura x reader #sakura miyawaki x reader #lesserafim imagines #lesserafim angst #twice #girl group imagines

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pikahlua · 7 months

Text

MHA Chapter 403 spoilers translations

This week’s initial tentative super rough/literal translations under the cut.

1 なんのためえにぃうーまれて nan no tamee nii uumarete What are you born for and

book cover あんぱんまん anpanman Anpanman

2 なぁにをしぃてえいきるのかぁ naani wo shiitee ikiru no kaa what are you going to do? (Note: The above lines are the opening lyrics to the Anpanman theme song.)

tagilne オールマイト幼き日の記憶ーーオールマイトおさなきひのきおくーー OORU MAITO osanaki hi no kioku-- All Might's childhood memories--

C (copyright) やなせたかし Yanase Takashi Takashi Yanase

3 思い返せばおもいかえせば omoi kaeseba If I think back,

4 誰もが通る道にあったモノだだれもがとおるみちにあったモノだ dare mo ga tooru michi ni atta MONO da it's something that was on the path everyone walks.

5-6 原点と呼ぶにはあまりに柔らかな記憶オリジンとよぶにはあまりにやわらかなきおく ORIJIN (kanji: genten) to yobu ni wa amari ni yawaraka na kioku A memory too soft to call my origin.

1 私がした事といえばわたしがしたことといえば watashi ga shita koto to ieba If we're talking about what I did,

2 ふとその道を振り返っただけだふとそのみちをふりかえっただけだ futo sono michi wo furikaetta dake da I only happened to look back down that path.

3-4 それがとても大事なものに見えただけだそれがとてもだいじなものにみえただけだ sore ga totemo totemo daiji na mono ni mieta dake da [What was there]* just looked like it was very important. (*Note: Literally the word here is just "that.")

tagline No.403　The End of An Era, And----　時代の終わり、そして　　堀越耕平ナンバー403　ジ　エンド　オブ　アン　イアラ、　アンド---- じだいのおわり、そして----　　ほりこしこうへい NANBAA 403 JI ENDO OBU AN IARA, ANDO---- jidai no owari, soshite---- Horikoshi Kouhei No. 403 The End of An Era, And---- Kouhei Horikoshi

1 だから dakara That's why.

2 英雄らしくえいゆうらしく eiyuu rashiku "Like a hero."

3 キュウ…ン KYUU...N (Note: This is a sound effect for the drills destroying the gauntlet.)

4 死に方を選べると？しにかたをえらべると？ shinikata wo eraberu to? "Choosing how to die?"

1 やっと yatto "Finally"

2 出し切ったな！だしきったな！ dashikitta na! "got that out!"

3 「凝血」「ぎょうけつ」「gyouketsu」 Bloodcurdle

4-5 手負いのヒーローの恐さは散々教わったておいのヒーローのこわさはさんざんおそわった teoi no HIIROO no kowasa wa sanzan osowatta "I've learned well how terrifying an injured hero is."

6 君には何も果たさせはしないきみにはなにもはたさせはしない kimi ni wa nani mo hatasase wa shinai "I won't let you execute anything." (Note: He means he won't let All Might do anything like a trick or a plan to fight back.)

7 その表情を待ってたそのカオをまってた sono KAO (kanji: hyoujou) wo matteta "I was waiting for that face [expression]."

8-9 君が最も嫌がる時だきみがもっともいやがるときだ kimi ga motto mo iyagaru toki da "The moment you can't stand the most."

1 ジェントル‼︎ JENTORU!! "Gentle!!"

2 ああ‼︎雄英は安定した‼︎ ああ‼︎ゆうえいはあんていした‼︎ aa!! yuuei wa antei shita!! "Ah!! UA has stabilized!!"

3 行くぞ！行ってやるいくぞ！いってやる ikuzo! itte yaru "Let's go! I'll go for it."

4 わあああ‼︎ waaaa!! "Waaaah!!"

5 撮るのを止めるな！とるのをやめるな！ toru no wo yameruna! "Don't stop taking video!"

6 ぐぅ!!! guu!!! "Ggh!!!"

7 雄英に吸われて狙いがズレたか… ゆうえいにすわれてねらいがズレたか… yuuei ni suwarete nerai ga ZUREta ka... "Perhaps my aim was off because it got absorbed by UA..."

8 まァいい…善性に抑えられていろ飛田まァいい…ぜんせいにおさえられていろとびた maA ii...zensei ni osaerarete iro Tobita "Well, it's fine... Stay restrained there by your good nature, Tobita." (Note: He means basically "Get stuck holding up UA because you have a soft heart.")

1 レーザー一斉照射用意‼︎ レーザーいっせいしょうしゃようい‼︎ REEZAA issei shousha youi!! "Ready for simultaneous laser fire!!"

2 オールマイトに当たっちまう‼︎ オールマイトにあたっちまう‼︎ OORU MAITO ni atacchimau!! "[But] I'll hit All Might!!"

3 彼はかれは kare wa "He"

4 スタ��の憧れだ！スターのあこがれだ！ SUTAA no akogare da! "is Star's aspiration!"

5 スターと共に弔を追い詰めたXー66ーー…！スターとともにとむらをおいつめたエックスーダブルシックスーー…！ SUTAA to tomo ni Tomura wo oitsumeta EKKUSU-DABURU SHIKKUSU--...! "The X-66s that cornered Tomura together with Star--...!"

1 FIRE ファイア FAIA "FIRE"

2 スターは不在だろスターはふざいだろ SUTAA wa fuzai daro "Star is absent, you know."

1 あやばい a yabai "Ah, crap."

2 え e "Eh?"

3 オールマイト逝くっオールマイトいくっ OORU MAITO iku "All Might will die,"

4 オールマイト逝く！オールマイトいく！ OORU MAITO iku! "All Might will die!"

5 うん終わりうんおわり un owari "Yeah, it's over."

6-7 そんな…ダメだって！ sonna...DAME datte! "Something like this...is hopeless!"

8 オールマイトが OORU MAITO ga "All Might is..."

9 わしゃ…昔たすけられたんじゃ… わしゃ…むかしたすけられたんじゃ… washa...mukashi tasukeraretanja... "I...was saved by him a long time ago..."

10 どんな姿であれ…彼の死はどんなすがたであれ…かれのしは donna sugata de are...kare no shi wa "No matter what form he takes...his death"

11 おじさまっ ojisama "Uncle."

12 俊典… としのり… Toshinori... "Toshinori..."

13 時代の節目になるじだいのふしめになる jidai no fushime ni naru "will be the turning point of the era."

1 嫌だいやだ iya da It can't be.

2 嫌だ--- いやだ--- iya da--- It can't be---

3 ---誰か--- ---だれか--- ---dare ka--- ---someone---

1 No.403 ナンバー403 NANBAA 403 No. 403

1 The End of An Era, ジ　エンド　オブ　アン　イアラ、 JI ENDO OBU AN IARA, The End of An Era,

1 And------ アンド------ ANDO------ And------

1 The Beginning ザ　ビギニング ZA BIGININGU The Beginning

tagline 想いは今一つにーー‼︎ おもいはいまひとつにーー‼︎ omoi wa ima hitotsu ni--!! Their feelings* now [become] one--!! (*Note: This word has MANY meanings: "heart, mind, thoughts, feelings, desires, wishes, hopes, etc.")

#my hero academia leak translations #mha 403 #bnha 403 #my hero academia manga spoilers #final showdown spoilers #[“The Circle of Life” blaring in the distance]

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moonflowerdamie · 9 months

Text

everyone thinks that they know us (but they know nothing)

Word Count: 2.7k

Title from 'Dress' by Taylor Swift.

Based on a request from @idkwhatnameuselol :)

*****

3:28 blinks back at you from the clock on your bedside table as you turn to check it for what must be the hundredth time. The numbers, red and unassuming, may as well be laser beams with how they send a pang of anxious pain through your head. You’ve got to be up in less than 5 hours. Brilliant.

You are, typically, an overthinker. So this, the situation you find yourself in now—mind whirring, brain unable to shut down—is not uncharacteristic in the slightest. It’s almost laughable that you thought you’d be getting a full 8 hours tonight, what with the stunt you’re planning to pull tomorrow—well, today, actually. The correction makes you wince.

Rolling onto your back, you stare up at the ceiling in the dark. By this point, you’ve practically given up on getting any sleep; a stupid move, given the very important game you’re to be a part of in less than 10 hours. But sleep seems a distant dream, and you’re not going to frustrate yourself with another futile attempt. Better to be calm and awake, rather than irritated and grumpy.

You’re pretty set on just waiting the night out when you feel her turn over beside you, an arm slung over your waist, her fingers curling protectively over your hip.

“Why are you still awake?”

Alessia’s voice is hoarse from sleep, her eyes bleary and hair a mess, and you can’t help but fall a little bit more in love with her at the sight.

“Just thinking.” You whisper back, hoping you sound reassuring and not like you’ve just spent the last 4 hours tossing and turning, mulling over the next day. You can tell you’ve failed when her brows furrow and she shuffles closer.

“About tomorrow?” You nod, and lift your hand to card your fingers through her hair. Alessia sighs happily and leans into your touch, but concern remains written in her features.

“It’s going to be a tough game, we know that; I mean it’s a semi-final so of course—”

“Not that,” you cut her off gently, “not the game itself.”

Realisation darkens Alessia’s eyes and her face softens even more. Wordlessly, she extends her arms to you. You smile tiredly, nudging your way into her grasp until your face is buried in her neck, arms wound around her waist, her hands rubbing soothing patterns into your back. You breathe in deep, and the familiar scent of her calms you somewhat. Her pulse flutters against your lips, brushing against her throat, and you kiss the spot tenderly.

The two of you lie in silence for a moment, enjoying the peace you always find in each other’s embrace. Alessia presses kisses soft as raindrops to your head, and you feel drowsiness start to seep into your bones.

She speaks after a while, moving one hand up to scratch gently at your scalp, knowing it always helps you drift off.

“It’s going to be ok, you know. It’s scary now, and it’ll be scary tomorrow, but we’re doing it together.” She presses another kiss to your head. “And once it’s done, it’s done. No more hiding.”

You know she’s right; she always is (though you’ll never tell her that), so you nod against her and snuggle in even closer. Before you know it, your eyes are closing, your body going slack.

The last thing you hear before you succumb to sleep is Alessia’s voice, honey-sweet and quiet, telling you she loves you. You smile faintly, and drift away.

*****

The morning comes, and with it your anxiety.

You’re a ball of nervous energy through your morning routine, through breakfast, all the way to the stadium. The other girls sense it and leave you to it—they probably think you’re stressed about the game—something you’re very thankful for as you bite at your nails entering the changing room at Wembley.

You take your sweet time getting ready, pulling your kit on and fixing your hair slowly and methodically. One by one, the other Lionesses leave the room and head out to warm up, until it’s just you and Alessia left.

Pulling the shirt out of your kit bag feels monumental, and as you stare at the name printed on the back, you feel the strangest mixture of exhilaration, nerves, nausea and pride.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Alessia checks one final time, placing a hand on your knee. Her eyes are searching, and you know that if you were to back out now, there would be no judgement from her. The thought comforts you, steels you. You look back at the name above your number and smile. This is it.

You nod, grinning at her. A matching smile spills across her beautiful face as she leans in and kisses your temple.

“Let’s do this then.”

*****

Your teammates don’t notice right away, most of them too focussed on readying themselves for the match ahead, too lost in their own preparations to register the changed name on your back.

It’s something of a relief, as it allows you to get into the headspace you need to be in for the semi-final—Sweden aren’t going to be an easily beaten opponent, so you need to be at your best.

Keira is the first to clock: you see confusion spread across her face as you turn away from her to grab some cones for a passing drill, and your heart leaps into your throat. She says nothing though, merely shakes her head a little and gets on with passing, but the seed is sown.

As kick-off approaches, you see more and more of your teammates starting to notice. Leah, stoic as ever, stares blankly at the back of your shirt for a good few seconds before turning away to stretch. Rachel, hardly as subtle, spots the name and nudges Millie, the both of them looking on with scrunched up expressions, like they can’t quite figure it out.

It’s Georgia who finally speaks up, pointing it out as the two of you practise one-two’s.

“Why are you wearing Alessia’s shirt?” She asks, loud enough for said woman to hear. Alessia turns to face you guys from where she was shooting against Mary. You smile, hoping your fear doesn’t show in your face, heart racing.

“I’m not.”

“Then why does it have ‘Russo’ on the back?” Georgia questions, utterly baffled.

Because, here’s the thing: you’re not wearing Alessia’s shirt. It’s yours. As is the name on the back of it—your name, and your wife’s.

Your wife. You still can’t quite believe it.

The two of you have been together for almost 4 years now, and you got married last October. In secret. Nobody except your families know about the wedding. Nobody, not even your teammates, even knew you were dating. You’d hidden the relationship all this time.

There are a plethora of reasons why you and Alessia kept the relationship a secret. First of all, neither of you are publicly out as queer, and way back when the two of you started out, neither of you were ready. Coming out to family and friends is hard enough, but to the whole world? It had seemed impossible.

A million other worries and concerns and preferences had helped you make the decision to keep quiet about your love to the general public, but also to your teams, both club-level and internationally. It’s not that you don’t trust the girls you work and play with—that’s not it at all—but a secret relationship is a private relationship, and god knows the two of you needed that.

You’re surrounded by these girls almost every day, and it’s almost impossible to keep things to yourself. This is your first major tournament with the Lionesses, but already you know almost too much about your teammates, and vice versa.

What you have with Alessia, you felt was nobody’s business. It’s quiet and peaceful, and more than anything, it’s yours and yours alone. So you kept it that way.

But now, married and settled, you both decided it was time to let the team, and the world, know: Alessia is yours and you are hers, happily and forever.

Georgia is still waiting on an answer as you reflect on all of this, and so Alessia steps in.

“It has Russo on the back because that’s her name.” She says cheerily, before skipping off to grab some water.

Georgia looks puzzled as you suck in a breath and wait for the penny to drop.

It doesn’t.

“Weird.” She scoffs, and carries on with the drill, saying nothing more on the subject.

You can’t tell if you’re relieved or not.

*****

The game goes well, with you beating Sweden and gaining a spot in the Euro’s final. It’s exhilarating and joyful and when your wife jumps into your arms after the final whistle blows, you think that you could die happy after today.

As the roar of victory dies down and fans begin to exit the stadium, you and Alessia head over to her family, standing by the railing. Yours couldn’t attend the match, but Alessia’s parents and siblings feel like home all the same.

“Oh, ragazze, well done! I’m so proud of you both!” Alessia’s mother says, clutching both you and your wife to her in a tight hug. You grin, still high on the emotions of the game, and squeeze her back before you pull away. Alessia’s arm winds around your waist as you stand there and chat to her family, and from the corner of your eye you can see Keira and Lucy watching the two of you.

After the game, Alessia’s family take you both out to dinner to celebrate. It’s a great night, it always is with the Russo’s, and you’re so happy that you don’t notice half the team’s stares when you walk back into the hotel later that evening, Alessia’s hand in yours.

*****

The confrontation comes the next day after breakfast.

It’s rest day, but Sarina had asked the team to stay together, playing games and watching movies as a way to bond a little more before the final, so all of you file into the games room after you eat.

You manage to get through Twister, Jenga and half of a Star Wars movie before it finally happens.

“Right.” The movie is paused, Lucy holding the remote and turning to fix you and Alessia with a firm stare. You swallow hard, eyes darting about the room.

“Luce, put the film back on, we—” Millie whines, but Lucy cuts her off.

“I will. After those two tell us what the hell is going on.”

Every eye in the room turns to you and Alessia, following Lucy’s accusing gaze. It’s dark in the games room, all the lights off and curtains drawn for the film, but you can still see the faces of your teammates, the way their eyes shine with curiosity.

“What do you—” You start, innocence coating your tone, but Lucy stops you.

“You know exactly what I mean. Wearing a shirt with Alessia’s name on, the both of you going for dinner with her family last night. And don’t think I can’t see that hickey Less, you’re not subtle.”

A blush heats your face as your wife shifts next to you, her hand coming up to rub at the mark you’d left just above her collarbone—perhaps you got a little carried away last night.

(Alessia wasn’t complaining when you’d given her it but that’s not the point.)

“So come on, out with it.”

Lucy’s questioning seems to start the others off as well, and soon the room is a cacophony of voices asking you what was happening and what yesterday was all about. And you wanted this, you know you did; wanted the girls to know about you and Alessia, but here, now, with everyone looking at you and asking all the big questions, you’re starting to panic a little.

Your mouth goes dry, hands turning clammy as you struggle to stay calm. Anxiety is clutching at your heart and your blood rushes in your ears.

Alessia clocks, seeing the panic so clearly displayed in your body language, and, in what was a noble attempt to help you out, shuts the whole room up.

“Guys, would you please leave my wife alone.”

Silence. Complete silence follows Alessia’s words. Every mouth in the room hangs open as the girls process what she’s just said.

And then—

“Wife?!”

“Wait, you and Y/N are together?”

“You’re married?! Since when?”

“What the absolute fuck?!”

The room explodes with noise, questions and incredulity spilling out and filling the air. You’re not sure who’s asking what, shaky and somewhat nauseous. Beside you, Alessia slides her fingers between yours and squeezes three times. I love you.

It takes a while for the girls to calm down, but when they do, your wife takes the lead, answering all their questions patiently whilst you bite your lip and watch the room for reactions.

After the shock of it, everybody seems happy for you. There are a few congratulatory remarks made, and a couple of teasing comments, mostly from Millie and Mary.

(“Oh, so that’s why they always room together at camp!”

“Shut up, Mearps.”)

In fact, the only person who doesn’t seem delighted for the two of you is Ella. She sits there, brows drawn together, jaw clenched. It makes your stomach turn over with nerves—she’s Alessia’s best friend, and you desperately want her approval. You don’t know why she seems so upset, but it’s starting to make bile rise in your throat.

She explains her dismay before too long.

“Less, you didn’t tell me?”

And her voice is hurt, small. Alessia turns to her. You see her smile drop when she meets Ella’s eyes.

“El, we didn’t tell anyone, only our families.” She speaks softly, and you can tell she feels guilty. You do too. Ella and Alessia are like sisters, and it must hurt to realise Alessia kept such a big secret from her, even if it was for a good reason.

“But I’m your best mate.” There’s a hint of betrayal in her tone, and you see pain flash over Alessia’s face.

The rest of the room has gone silent as the two speak, watching with bated breath. You squeeze Alessia’s hand in a show of silent support.

“I’m sorry, El, I really am. We wanted to keep it private. It was nothing you guys did or didn’t do, we just—we just wanted to be us, just us, for a little while.”

Ella is silent for a moment, gears evidently turning. You bite your lip even harder, nearly drawing blood as you wait for either a shouting match or forgiveness.

“So, nobody knew except your families? Nobody?”

“Nobody.” Alessia confirms. “And if we had decided to tell people back when we started dating, you’d have been the first to know, I promise.”

This seems to soften her, and Ella chuckles quietly. Hope blooms in your chest.

“I s’pose being a secret made sneaking around under Sarina’s nose a lot easier.”

The whole room laughs at that, and the tension that had been building unravels. Something tight loosens in your body and you slump backwards a little bit as Alessia and Ella begin bantering like they usually do.

As the room settles once more, and Lucy reaches for the remote to resume the film, Alessia leans into your side. Her head comes to rest on your shoulder, hand winding around your arm. You smile, heart jumping. The noise from the TV filters back into the room, providing enough cover for you to press a kiss to Alessia’s hair and whisper a soft ‘I love you’.

“I love you too, Mrs Russo.” She murmurs back, and you chuckle.

The film continues with Alessia snuggled into you. You look around at your friends, see them smiling and happy, see that the world hasn’t ended like you used to think it would if you stopped hiding, and you think, this. This is it. This is right.

You don’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.

*****

A/N: Ok so my first x reader fic is done! I hope you guys liked it, it was fun to write and I love me some Lessi so I'm glad to be putting more works out there for her!

#alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #x reader #woso one shot #woso x reader #woso imagine #fluff #lionesses #engwnt

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howtofightwrite · 11 months

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Just a casual question: What lightsaber style do you prefer out of one-handed, two-handed, double-bladed or dual wielding?

We’ll leave out the Lightsaber Forms from the EU, because they are inconsistently defined between sources.

No, no, no. You ask me what my favorite lightsaber is, you get the answer whether you want it or not. The answer may surprise you. It’s (probably) considered the second dumbest lightsaber weapon ever invented in the extended universe with the exception of the lightsaber nunchaku.

Are you ready? Do you have your guesses?

The Lightwhip.

The chosen weapon of Dark Ladies of the Sith and the Nightsisters of Dathomir back when the Sisters weren’t all dark side practitioners and rode rancors.

(This is my favorite. For reference, Starke’s favorite is single blade Form IV: Ataru. He’s boring.)

Now, I agree with the general fandom that the lightwhip is a dumb, impractical weapon that’s more likely to dismember its wielder than it is their opponent. Only someone with a high level of skill, prescience, and telekinesis could make effective use of a lightwhip’s dismemberment murder frenzy without killing themselves. Fortunately, that’s exactly the base level of skills most Force sensitives possess. Probably most important, the lightwhip is the exact sort of dumb we see with real weapons in the real world. This includes the more wild examples like the urumi, the chain whip, and the three-section staff. And, it should be said, I have watched living black belts concuss themselves with the three-section staff while trying to figure out how to use it. All for the Rule of Cool. So, while I accept its impracticality, I refuse the argument that the lightwhip being any more unrealistic in use or invention than the rest of the lightsaber weapon family. Does it have a high skill floor? Absolutely. Is it a safe weapon compared to the rest of its very dangerous family? Absolutely not. Would a student potentially dismember or murder themselves learning to use it? Yes, and that’s why it’s fun. (I’ll add a small caveat that the average student could also dismember themselves with a normal lightsaber, so this isn’t just a danger posed by the lightwhip.)

The lightwhip is a weapon of the Dark Side. Its battle style would be (and should be) wild, chaotic, and nigh uncontrollable. There’s no way to use it safely and it belongs in the hands of a wielder who is straight up thrilled to cut down both their allies and enemies in equal measure. This is the weapon of a murderous lunatic in black leather, and gets even more wild when it switches to a Cat o’ Nine to bring on nine weaving laser tendrils instead of just one. The lightwhip is the sexy Catwoman reference that transcends its genre when we really start to think about how intimidating it’d be to see that thing on the battlefield in the hands of a novice and, especially, an expert.

The standard use for a whip in the real world is as a support tool for your primary weapon, such as a rapier. The whip doesn’t do much damage on its own, leaving only small, painful cuts and lacerations so it transitions into a means of harassment. The advantage of the whip is that it attacks at odd, circular angles which are difficult (if not impossible) to block and will curve into a strike around the opposing weapon. The rippling movement makes it difficult to see and even more difficult to predict. If kept in constant motion, this difficulty triples because the disparate movements blend together.

Now, take this setup and add the lightshow. Instead of a weapon that does light lacerations, we have a weapon that deals massive burns if it doesn’t straight up dismember. It will cut through everything and everyone. Conventional fighting styles fall apart against it. More importantly, because it is a burning plasma ribbon, it doesn’t need to follow the standard rules of physics. The lightwhip is beautiful in its raw, chaotic brutality, it’s high risk, high reward nature, and I love the way it hard counters the standard philosophy of lightsaber combat with a literal curveball. Any opponent who faces it is forced into new, creative approaches for their very survival.

Lastly, I love what the lightwhip says about its wielder as an expression of their vicious, ferocious, highly aggressive personality. This weapon requires commitment and dedication. It’s absolutely fair to say the person who wields a lightwhip has a fanatical, if not suicidal, bent. After all, they’d willingly risk death to master it. They love destruction. They don’t care about outside consequences or property destruction. They go it alone.

I’ll admit the lightwhip’s true potential is too violent for most of Star Wars and, like most Star Wars weapons, it very much lives on the Rule of Cool. One of the sadder aspects with the lightwhip is that, while I love the weapon and its potential, any discussion of it gets mired in sexism. Every appearance of the lightwhip comes with the sexy NSFW Dark Side Dominatrix bent and leads to the lightwhip not being given the consideration it’s potential deserves.

My favorite saber is Darth Maul’s saber staff from The Phantom Menace, because versatility allows for use of both one and two. My favorite lightsaber form (which should now surprise no one) is Form VII: Vaapad.

All that said, I do enjoy a good Dark Side Dominatrix as much as I enjoy a moody and hooded Dark Side Goth. And I genuinely love dumb and, seemingly, impractical weapons when the reward justifies their risk. If there’s a general writing advice takeaway here, always consider the practicality of an impractical but cool weapon, address i’s rewards as well as its risks, and pair it with a suitable personality. The lightwhip is not a weapon that belongs in the hands of a Jedi or, really, any individual who possesses any degree of restraint. It’s for a character who merrily expresses raw, raging power at every opportunity and willing to risk destroying themselves along with everyone else for victory.

There’s a weird angle with the Star Wars EU where they tried to establish the lightwhip as weaker than the lightsaber (*cough* woman’s weapon *cough*) with less cutting power even when it doesn’t use a physical cord, which makes absolutely no sense. The lightsaber is the more versatile weapon, while the lightwhip is more specialized and circumstantial. Which fits with the patterns of real world weapons technology.

This a long circle round to saying that the weapons we choose for our characters act as personality tells. Which is why it’s important to give a lot of thought and consideration to any weapon’s historic use and purpose before attaching it. Weapons communicate more than we might expect, both via their situational viability and associated cultural myths. It’s important to choose whether you’ll address this, especially if you’re not planning to intentionally communicate that message or make those personality traits part of the character’s identity. Weapons are tools and, like with all tools, different tools attract different personalities. In fiction, we the authors often decide this from an external perspective. Once a choice has been made, always give yourself a chance to think about it from a character’s internal perspective. Why did Character X choose this weapon? Why do they want to use it? What does this weapon do for them that another weapon doesn’t? Or, what makes that other weapon less attractive?

You might find yourself with an answer or story beat you hadn’t previously considered.

Food for thought.

-Michi

This blog is supported through Patreon. Patrons get access to new posts three days early, and direct access to us through Discord. If you’re already a Patron, thank you. If you’d like to support us, please consider becoming a Patron.

#star wars #lightsabers #michi answers #writing advice #writing reference #writing tips #how to fight write

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gynoids-over-androids · 5 months

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I'm working on this project with some people who are all libfems TRAs (save me) and what really strikes even though we talked abt it on tumblr already, they REALLY think that misogyny *alone* isn't that important and that it's too like.. old fashioned ig? As if it was already solved and it's basically beating an old horse, nothing subversive?

For example one of the enbies of the group told me one could think my work is transphobic bc I use yonic imagery a LOT in my art abt women, female robots etc. I said I do it bc I like pussy and what, should we stick dicks everywhere in order to not be transphobic? But she was like oh I'm just tired of genitals everywhere, blabla. It was subversive to examine ur vag in the 70s but now now, etc. As if rn yonic art is dépassé and some old ass white feminist thing.

(yet you do not accuse the gay male of the group to only care abt cisgay masculinity, why's that)

My sister in Christ, you can't even accept ur proper womanhood 🤣🫵 the majority of the population finds vulvas yucky and not deserving to be powerful in a museum setting. The majority mainly sees it displayed, transformed, tortured in PORN! Vulvas/vaginas are STILL shaved, lasered, waxed, plucked, bleached, cut, sewn, stitched together, removed. I'd even argue that it's WORSE than in the 70s. Mainstream population is NOT ur libfem acc who's selling clit merchandise; how many women again don't even know they have a clit, ovaries, etc?!

Vulvas/vaginas in their natural state are NOT palatable to the general population and they're NOT palatable to the "" "progressive" "crowd either since you have to put one million disclaimers to depict them.

This is why I think that yes, yonic imagery especially hairy vulvas, is subversive and powerful.

No ONE is saying shit like this to gay or TIMs in arts I can guarantee you that!

#radfem art #Radical feminist #Radical feminism #Radfem #Radblr

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nihilnovisubsole · 3 months

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something i've been thinking about as GDC comes around again: it's amazing to sit in the same room with Real Industry People and hear the truth of why certain story decisions happened the way they did. studio games are odd group projects that take a really long time to make, and there are many irons in the fire and many interests at play. sometimes the stars align and a team gets a laser vision, creative freedom, and the budget they need, and they ship the thing they meant to ship.

but not always. if a character you love got killed off, it's entirely possible that their original writer left or they couldn't bring the voice actor back. or leadership wanted to close down old story arcs and tie up loose ends, or someone felt new characters would bring in a new audience. if a series seemed to drop a plot thread in a sequel, it's possible that the narrative team wanted to include it and it got cut for scope. or shareholders wanted to appeal to a different part of the playerbase. or the team had internal creative conflict, or any number of reasons as simple as "it got lost in the shuffle because we did so many rewrites". [important disclosure: i'm not vagueposting about specific games here. i'm just rattling possibilities off. resemblance, unintentional, etc.]

and of course that's not a phenomenon unique to video games. tv shows make snap decisions when they get canceled before the planned end of the story or a cast member wants to leave. movies' plots can change when a new director comes on board, or they bring in a script doctor, or an actor's problems interfere with the shoot. even louisa may alcott changed little women's ending over concerns that if jo remained unmarried, the book wouldn't sell. i'm not sure whether it was her publisher or she worried about it herself, but the point is, something got altered, and it can happen anywhere.

as a fan, i found these developers' stories both comforting and vindicating. for a long time, i've felt like someone riding two horses at once: the fanfic-and-OC girl playing on other writers' playgrounds, and now also the staff writer who sees how the sausage gets made. i've been affected - probably overmuch - by a character's sad end, only to learn that some third party or outside motive influenced it. i've met writers who also didn't like where a plot was going, but didn't have enough seniority on the team to protest it. i've heard stories along the lines of, "we were trying to make lemonade, man," and what shocked me more than the revelation is the peace i gained from it. it's a miracle the games shipped at all. the things that got made, got made. between professionals, it's neither heretical nor some wild flight of irrationality to ask, "what if things had gone a different way?"

and, i mean, it would be both cynical and incorrect to wave it all off and say that no storytelling motives are ever wholesome. some characters die because it's the logical conclusion to their arc. some universes with complicated worldbuilding benefit from narrowing their focus and shaving off a few subplots. i'm just saying many things are possible. when you only sit on the fan side, it's easy to feel like Canon™ looms above you, inviolable, when you're really in conversation with it. there's a lot of power in saying "i respect the team's accomplishments, but i would've made different choices." you'd be surprised how often the team agrees with you.

#writing #workjob

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seth-shitposts · 11 months

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just some thoughts.

Kallus keeps every single item he's ever been given.

For the longest time, that had only been the bo-rifle. Which he lost when his cover was blown.

And then there was the meteorite, another item he kept close to his person because of its daily significance to him. Which is also MIA.

At first, no one really noticed.

When he first joined the rebellion, he had nothing. Which wasn't strange. What was strange was that it stayed that way for a long while. A few unsavory rebels poked, prodded, and speculated that it was the Imperial in him. But he always shook their taunts off, having more important things to attend to.

Sabine was the first to give him a gift. She painted his old imperial chest plate and he keeps it as a decorative piece. He had wanted to get rid of the armor initially, but she talked him out of it. Now he knows why and he can't really bring himself to part with it now that the teen has put her own personal touch on to it.

After four months in the rebellion officially, it had been the first and only item to be in his room.

A few weeks later, he wobbles into his room after a long shift and finds a laser-cut stone statue of a loth cat. It's unquestionably an item left by the rebellions own loth cat, Ezra. Kallus smiles to himself and makes it a center piece on his counter.

One morning he had invited Kanan over for caf... well, more so Kanan offered to bring Kallus some of his favourite to brew. Kallus tried to have them meet somewhere in HQ or perhaps in the ghost, or even in one of the rec rooms. Kanan explained that he wanted something where it could be more quiet, as he had something important to speak about with Kallus. Kallus reluctantly agreed and managed to get a hold of a caf brewer. He realized he made a fatal miscalculation when Kanan showed up and Kallus didn't have a single cup. Kanan had just laughed and said that he had a feeling that was the case. Kanan pulled out a few mugs he had taught himself how to make back on Atollon. He gifted them to Kallus, who uses them frequently. (He has acquired quite a collection over time. At one point, everyone who he considers friends has gifted him at least one mug each, he has a collection of 38 mugs.)

There's been a few more times when Kallus has returned to his room to find random items and nick-nacks from Ezra. His current favourite is one of Pryce's stolen helmets that Ezra had Sabine paint.

Kallus is quite fond of weapon that he helped Wolffe and Gregor steal from am imperial auction. It's beyond repair, but it was from the same line of Canon blasters that helped them win many battles back in the clone wars.

One of Kallus’s favourite Hera gifts is the miniature self-piloting ship that circles the ceiling of his room. She had made it in her down time, one day when she had scrap pieces she was fiddling with while he was working. Eventually, the two fell into a pattern of Hera working on some small project while Kallus read a book that Rex or Cassian usually gifted him. She usually also had him tell her whatever the latest interpersonal spectacles were hot in rumors.

Kallus doesn't question the continously growing number of Imperial rank badges that Chopper likes to keep in Kallus's room and have Kallus help him rearrange into a pattern. Chopper is taking after Sabine, in a light. The droid is very particular about how he wants the badges arranged. It's growing into quite an abstract work.

Rex and AP-5 have both given Kallus a dozen plants. Separately. AP-5 enjoys to talk about his interest in plants for hours during his down time. Kallus listens to every speech about the care that goes into them, the importance of their specific roles in the environment that supports them, and their scientific uses. Rex enjoys telling stories of his past related to each plant he brings Kallus. The soldier attaches the memory of old friends to a plant that reminds him of them. And he told Kallus that something about him just reads as plant caretaker. And Kallus still has no reason to doubt a single hunch from Rex because he has yet to let a single plant that either he or AP-5 has ever brought him die. He's managed to not only keep every single plant alive, but also thriving.

Ths growing number of plants pulled a chuckle from Zeb one day, cracking a joke about how he feels like he stepped into a different type of jungle.

The gifts that Zeb have given Kallus are numerous, all seemingly unrelated, yet distinctly Zeb. Furniture he made from wood he found in Yavin's jungle, gems he snagged from imperial black market auctions that he made into a wind chime, minor items that are fascinating to just hold and fidget with, a weighted blanket that Zeb stitched together himself, jewelry that Zeb said reminded him of Kallus. Quite a few of the gifts were made by hand. A number of others had practical uses to them. And some just given because "I looked at it and thought of you". The day that Zeb gave him a Lasana tunic, Kallus was left at a loss for words. The fabric was the most comfortable texture he had ever held, the colors were soft and gentle. Zeb told Kallus he made himself, every stitch, every color had an intent, a meaning behind them. He tried it on for the other and fell in love with how right it felt to wear, how comfortable it was, and most of all for the soft look in Zeb's eyes when he showed him. The top portion was sleeveless and backless, the cloth collar covering most of his neck and layered over his chest. The waist was contrastingly snug and hugged him fittedly. The pants we loose and airy, before the fabric around the ankles clung to his skin once more. The smile never left either of their faces the whole time.

#star wars rebels #swr #alexsandr kallus #kalluzeb #garazeb orrelios #star wars #zeb orrelios #chopper #ezra bridger #sabine wren #hera syndulla #commander gregor #commander wolffe #commander rex #kanan jarrus #ap 5 #But yeah I'm not sure where I was going with this

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firstknightvulion · 2 months

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Brainrot has taken over. Spoilers ahead. Be warned.

Finished the Gongaga Reactor fights last night.

Just cause I haven’t seen anyone talk about this yet.

Right after killing another one of Hojo’s experiments.

Cloud was helpless in this scene. Mako poisoning. Dragged around by Barret. I can only imagine the mishmash that is his headspace. Probably didn’t know who he is. I mean, more than usual.

Then Tifa is attacked and it’s clear as day. In a second, he’s back. Physically and mentally, laser-guided. And I think that is a very important aspect of his psyche. He forgets so much but the promise, the desire to protect Tifa is so damn foundational to Cloud. Even when he swung his sword under Sephiroth’s influence, he didn’t cut Tifa. There was no wound or blood. And as evidenced by the Trooper Massacre, it was not a lack of skill. Some part of him was trying his hardest not to kill her.

Which is why I believe Sephiroth was messing with Cloud and Tifa’s relationship specifically. He knows she is his rock. His foundation. In the scene with the Weapon, Sephiroth wasn’t trying to kill the planet protecting Kaiju. He was trying to kill her. Without her, Cloud would be just another Black Robe stumbling along.

I love how these two, young nobodies from Sephiroth’s past he barely remembers, are the one-two punch that knocks him on his ass. Especially in the OG game. The ‘literally who’ aspect of his demise in the original is so cathartic and funny.

Aerith was the threat in the broader context. The Last Cetra. Wielder of Holy. She lays the foundation but Cloud and Tifa are the ones (plus everyone else) that see it through.

Anyway, playing Rebirth is like playing the game again for the first time. It’s so good.

Now here’s a funny:

Also, I love the fact that most of my Cloti stuff was before I got to play that game. I didn’t know the party would have so many Cloti shippers. Feels good.

#final fantasy rebirth #final fantasy remake #ff7 remake #ff7 rebirth #ffvii rebirth #ffvii remake #ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #final fantasy vii #cloud x tifa #cloti #tifa lockhart #cloud strife #sephiroth #rebirth spoilers #spoilers

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dairy-farmer · 1 month

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Tim getting lobotomised from the villain of the week, now Bruce has to look after him in every way (including sexually). Dick and Jason are sad that Tim's changed at first but slowly they accept it and it brings them back together as a family, Tim seems happier now anyway, watching children's shows, carrying around his plushies, getting fucked, being bathed, why bother trying to fix him when it makes them all happier? (Maybe Bruce even arranged it in the first place to keep him from leaving)

tim becoming permanently injured snaps something among them. because it's one thing being killed, another thing becoming physically and mentally scarred. with tim it's a deliberate act of cruelty designed to extract the most pain from tim's friends and family by forcing them to see what they've taken away from tim.

tim. poor tim. they were too late. it's not until his distress beacon turns on, activated by this new villain that decided to make their name by taking out one of the 'birds' of gotham, that they arrive.

his injuries are minor. some rope burn around his wrists and a cauterized circular scar above tim's eyes where the sick fuck had used a laser to sever tim's prefrontal cortex.

they don't want to believe at first. but the villain had left documentation, scans, taunts to show them how they were a "threat" to be taken seriously. they track him down in a matter of hours, it's the fastest they've ever caught a rogue. they won't go to arkham. it's highly unlikely they will ever even leave a hospital bed for the rest of their lives given the damage jason had done. because unfortunately for that villain, red hood had gotten to their location three minutes before anyone else and that had been more than enough time for him to instill his own personal brand of justice.

they extend every effort they can to fix this. leslie says there's not much she can do. yes she's a doctor but neurology is not her specialty but even without it she knows that...injuries with the brain are very complex and intricate matters. bruce extends every effort. he flies in doctors, specialists, doctors who have been retired for years but had been the best of the best, professors who don't even practice but have done more for the branch of science than anyone else, he gets special permission to visit villains in prison to get consults from them even though it burns the ethics seared into his bones but he can't deny that some of them know their stuff.

in the end its the same. the brain is complex. it's a deeply important organ but so much of it is still an enigma. bruce is given prescriptions for tim, recommendations for therapists for him, told that his support is all he can offer, a few of them even tell him that...that a care home might be the best option for tim if he doesn't feel equipped to deal with someone who is disabled.

at every person who can't help him bruce and the others grow more desperate. they're thinking of consulting magic users but zatanna says that's not their specialty. bruce thinks of consulting that short list of metas the league has of those with healing powers but none are particularly skilled and can only hear minor cuts and breaks. bruce thinks...of the pit...

and stops himself. and in a moment knows he's gone too far because he knows that tim would never want that. he wouldn't want the pit. and so...with a heavy heart bruce calls it off. tells the others to stop their desperate search for a cure or a fix. they have to accept this. tim is still alive, he's still tim. the brother and son they all love so much. and tim might be a little hurt and a little less of himself but that doesn't mean they love him any less.

so they have to try, to try and adjust to how things are now. it's easier than they thought it would be. but also hard in ways they hadn't expected.

tim had a temper sometimes, tim was a grouch in the mornings, tim got angry and always knew what to say to hurt someone, tim was independent, tim was private, tim was funny, tim was rude, tim stood up for himself, tim never hesitated to call them out on their shit.

tim was an incredibly self sufficient person. he was like a plant that could go months without being watered and it wouldn't die. he was resilient. and they didn't realize how much tim was away and absent until they saw him each day to help him. bath him, dress him, feed him.

tim isn't fully helpless. there's some element of cognition he retained given that he still refuses to eat the navy beans that alfred makes for lunch one day. tim has preferences, things he likes and wants and enjoys. it's easy to love tim like this. he's so...simple. so easy to please and make happy and ask for forgiveness.

dick holds and kisses the top of tim's head all afternoon while movie after movie plays and tim doesn't fuss or whine once.

damian finds it easy to endear tim to him by offering little gifts. chocolates, candy, stuffed animals. things that make tim trust him without a second thought and it soothes some hurt indignation inside him that had always simmered because he and tim had never really fallen into that easy relationship once damian had stopped wanting to kill him.

jason...jason finds an ease at being with tim. a simplicity. he'd always harbored some suspicion towards the other. he was...conniving. sneaky. it was just hard to believe his words and not feel like he was being conned or used as some pawn in a bigger scheme because jason wasn't cooperative and when bruce wanted something that's what HE did and everyone said that bruce and tim were so similar...

maybe it's cruel. fucking disgusting even. but...jason likes tim better this way. tim's capacity for trickery has been greatly cut down. jason could ask if tim spoiled his dinner by eating chocolates when he wasn't supposed to and tim would clutch a stuffed hippo close and say he didn't, all while melted chocolate would be smeared on his lips and cheeks. tim is an open book. and with a family full of bats its a breath of fresh air. even alfred isn't fully transparent. with tim there's an honesty between them.

tim is different now. softer, weaker...sweeter.

they get used to him fast. tim requires more careful attention but its nothing they aren't willing to do.

until dick goes to get tim dressed for the day and finds his panties soaked through and tim making soft sounds and pressing his thighs together.

and bruce tells them that tim may have become changed mentally but his body is still very much that of a young adult. that he has needs and desires even if he can't understand them or do anything about them.

and they try to ignore it initially. dick cleans between tim's legs and ignores tim's soft noises and the wet stickiness coating his thighs. they ignore the soft slopes of tim's body, the hard ridges and lines of him having softened from retirement.

tim grows agitated, frustrated, upset. bruce already had tim on birth control because the pain of his period would just confuse and cause him unnecessary pain.

so..jason brings up a possible solution. an idea. there are...toys they can give to tim, things to help him along. tim's clearly in discomfort.

and they do. they try to offer them but tim doesn't understand what to do with them. he gets frustrated, upset.

so...they need to help him. just like how they have to help tim in other ways now they have to help him like this. if that means they help part tim open and press a toy in before turning it on so tim can squirm and writhe on it well, that's just part of the job.

they escalate without realizing it.

sometimes they're out in the garden or on the couch in the sitting room, or in the library and tim gets needy... but they don't want to go all the way to tim's room where they store his toys. so...they just use their fingers. their hands are clean so it should be okay and tim seems to enjoy it so much more. he's curled up close and weakly clutching at their clothes while they press fingers in and gently rub at his front- so they keep doing that until they suddenly they don't use the toys anymore.

damian is the one who gets curious. he's young, he's horny, he's curious- they really should've realized that. and damian after having his fingers dripping and hand drenched with tim's..release. he grows...curious. the smell, the taste...

before he knows it he's using his mouth on tim instead of his fingers and tim just likes it so much better. he gets all sweet and pliant afterwards and damian likes seeing the different reactions so he keeps doing it until dick finds him with his head buried under tim's skirt while tim squirms and whines on the carpet, his hands wrapped tightly around a stuffed giraffe.

damian doesn't get...grounded. but he is reprimanded by dick for allowing tim to lie on the floor which could hurt his back and for making tim's panties messy and not properly cleaning him up.

it progresses. it just does. suddenly dick is gently poking the head of his cock into tim, checking his reactions and whispering assurances and telling tim that dick will make sure this feels good that he wants tim to know what this feels like because he will never have gotten to feel it otherwise.

sex with tim is nice, he's so vocal and doesn't hesitate to express how much he enjoys something which is refreshing. every person dick had ever fucked always tried to retain some kind of dignity or clung to the idea that they needed to pretend like he wasn't good at what he was doing to 'check his ego' or something. tim reaches for him, kissing at his cheeks, and whines so sweetly and breathlessly when dick presses in nice and deep filling up his baby cunt with cock. tim is tight and hot and so pliable and easy to move around into good positions and though dick may have been hesitant at first that changes after the first time he sinks his cock into tim with a thick wet sound.

it's good. it's nice. its addicting fucking tim. pumping their hard cocks into him, watching it disappear into tim's hot little cunt, pressing flush to his puffy lips, gently fondling his baby tits, and fucking him in all different ways until he's clenching hard and going 'ah ah ah' on their cocks while the head is pressed right against the entrance to his womb and their spilling ribbons of warm cum all over his walls.

tim is so much happier after they fuck him. he cooperates better, behaves better, has less tantrums, is more affectionate. its a win win for all of them.

the only rule to it is that they're not allowed to fuck tim through the night.

'you're robbing him of his sleep' bruce scolds them after tim can barely stay awake at breakfast because damian had kept him awake the entire night by fucking him. its the reason tim sleeps in bruce's bed with him at night, so none of them get any ideas and also so bruce can prevent tim from rolling off the bed.

it also means bruce is the first of them to get to fuck tim as soon as he wakes up when his cunt is all warm and wet. bruce enjoys fucking tim's thighs, not quite trusting himself to push in. he's significantly bigger than his sons after all, even jason doesn't try to work in more than half his cock. but tim seems content either way, laying under him, underwear and little shorts pushed down to his knees, shirt pushed up to expose little, pink tits. bruce coats his cock in wetness and fucks the wet seam, listing to the thick wet noises and squishes as tim whines and grinds up against him.

truly tim has never been happier. the family has never been happier, and bruce has never been more content.

he knew when he'd found that new villain's plans during his raid of the office building they worked to track down a different criminal that he'd made the right choice in stepping back. he'd considered how things would turn out and they'd far exceeded his expectations.

sabotaging tim's distress beacon to delay by half an hour once activated was the best decision bruce had ever made. tim had been making to many moves that had bruce tensing, making too much talk of perhaps moving to san francisco permanently.

no. at least this way bruce's family stayed together. and thats all that really mattered in the end.

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

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