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quinnred · 4 months

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Shrileket: God of the Beautiful Wrath, God of the Spear, Sun-Dropper Shrileket is the embodiment of focus, gust, conspiracy, spears, venom, meteors, and just punishment. He is represented by the Cone-Shell in the South, and by the Heron and Fisher in the North. Warriors may wear an eye-marked sea shell upon their head or as necklace to evoke Shrileket’s accuracy and deliverance and be blessed with a just rage.

The Shell Gods were gods of strength, endurance, and handiwork, and so the birth of the armless and scrawny Shrileket to a consort of Zridtara was not revered. The wobbly weakling only had a shell upon his small head and had no feet but pin points that left it oddly balanced. Afraid to inform their chief, the consort left the newborn to be raised by the Servikah giants within the lower chambers of the Mesa. Despite his seeming lameness, Shrileket was already quite clever and remembered each wrong done to him as he grew in the shadows of his Shell kin, from the neglect of his mother to the bullying of his siblings. From hidden corners of the Mesa, he payed great attention to the habits of each brother and planned every detail of their shaming. He perfected his movements under the guise of dancing with his Servikah and sharpened his shell head with his feet. He would challenge his proudest and tallest brother, Thulla the god of Towers, to a duel. Red with laughter, Thulla agreed to the contest with this comical upstart and met him at the ground of his choosing. The brothers would fight upon the morning ground of Glarelund, carved into an arena so Thulla and Shrileket’s siblings could be audience. After a boast of mockery, Thulla’s first step into the ring followed with immediate foolery as the tall god teetered and tottered upon the shiny ground. Shrileket, however, slid with grace and elegance, dancing around the oaf with pecks and kicks to trip him further. In but a few moments Thulla had fallen, intensely embarrassed by Shrileket who had known that ice grew thin and smooth in the mornings of this region due to his Servikah guardians. Shrileket’s glee was the brightest he felt in a long time, but would sour as Thulla spit cruelties at the victor. Too indignant to let his win soothe him, Shrileket pounced on his brother and castrated him with his sharpened head to the horror of his fellows. The victory of the honourable duel had been ignored by the Shell Gods, instead enraged by the maiming of their proudest son and had banished Shrileket. Painting himself eyes from the gore of Thulla, Shrileket remembered the face of each and every one who cursed him and set off into the world. From there he would receive an invitation from the Feather Gods who admired Shrileket’s strategy and wrath, and especially his shaming of Thulla and gifted him with cloth weaved from god feather so he may join them in The Sun. Shrileket accepted and would earn further gifts, such as Godler servants sculpted into arms for his use and a consort for whom weaved him his cloth. From there he would take his seat at the bottom of The Sun, enthroned upside down at it’s tear ducts were he harvest his sunlight spears to damn those he chooses. Though his cool rage made him a fine arbitrator, his arm servants despised their role and their master and ever whispered bad advice and annoyances into his ears. Their hope was to be destroyed by their owner and freed of their obligations, released into the next life. Unfortunately for them Shrileket found it better to punish their betrayal with further eternal service. His many years of dedication as a divine punisher would end upon the beginning of the Deiomachy, as he would be sent to stop his brother-by-fate god of rage, Tilshek, from entering The Sun. Disgusted by how much Tilshek reminded him of an unrefined self, Shrileket would stop at nothing to kill the half-Jak, dropping from The Sun like tear drop lighting. Their clash would announce war between the Feather and Shell, booming as only gods could for days until they fell upon each other’s impalements.

#slaughtermauch #shrileket #gods #rage #quinn red #art #fantasy

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mairitess · 26 days

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what if a villain didn't take away elemental powers but instead made them progressively lose control...

i'm imagining aspheera-esque villain blasting kai with her staff and at first kai thinks everything is fine, but in a few days when he uses his fire he can feel his hands burning and for the first time, he really has to reckon with the reality of the physical pain his element can bear upon others

cole tries to use his elemental strength and he just feels his knees give because he's weaker and he starts panicking because he's never felt like this before. he's always been the foundation of the team -- how can a foundation be relied upon if it is weak

jay's always had lightning scars but now he feels the electricity reworking the avenues it carved in his back before, cutting deeper and deeper each time he uses his lightning power; what if one day the bones of his spine show through

zane uses his ice powers and for the first time he can feel the cold running through him through his processing getting slower, and he's scared to use his powers too much in fear he'll be asked to come up with a last-minute strategy and will be too slow to come up with one

nya is terrified of becoming the ocean again. kai's lost his powers before, but she's lost control before and that's an entirely different realm. she knows that accepting her loss of control led to her almost losing who she was entirely

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago angst #kai ninjago #cole ninjago #zane ninjago #jay ninjago #nya ninjago #jay walker #kai jiang #kai smith #nya jiang #nya smith #ninjago headcanons #is there an angst fic brewing???

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justmediocrewriting · 5 months

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Hi!!! I just saw your post for requests hehehee could you do a luffy x baker!reader who is sanji’s sister?? How they meet and join his crew and how luffy is in love with the pastries she makes? c: they think she can’t fight/hold up her own but turns out she’s just really lucky in fighting situations, no strategy or strength just 100% panic and luck LOL thank you! c:

A Little Bit Of A Sweet Tooth {m.d.l}

Summary: Luffy has a major sweet tooth — Sanji’s stingy about food, but he knows someone who would be more than happy to feed him some sweets outside of allotted meal times.

Genre: fluff

Pairing: Luffy x fem!reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Requested: ✅

Warnings: minor language

A/n: I think I got a cavity just writing this shit smh. I’m so happy you sent in your request nonnie and I’m sorry it took so long ❤️ I hope you all enjoy!

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Your tongue peeked between your lips as you focused intensely on your current task; the icing tube was gripped in your hand with just the perfect amount of force, the lines to the pattern on the cookies simply flawless, as always.

Luffy loved watching you make pastries; you were a lot similar to Sanji when you were in the zone, and your adeptness and attention to detail was rather riveting — not to mention the face you made when you were focused was truly adorable, as was the way you completely lost yourself in the art. Baking was your dream, and every delicious pastry made was simply a stepping stone on your journey (and Luffy loved tasting them and praising you about how good you did, because you would blush so prettily when he did.)

“Are they done yet?” Luffy asked, not unkindly but a bit impatiently, and the small giggle you let out went straight to his chest and wrapped around his heart like a vice. Without pausing your hands you glanced up at him, and Luffy thought his heart would burst with just how cute you looked with your hair tied into a messy bun and your cheeks spotted with bits of yellow icing.

“Not yet, Luffy. I still have to ice them and let them set.” Your voice was incredibly kind and soft, with an exasperated sort of fondness that conveyed just how many times you’d said these exact words in this exact same situation.

“How long will it take?” Luffy asked, shifting slightly in his seat. His eyes were focused on the little bit of icing still stuck to your skin, and he was feeling the overwhelming urge to wipe it off for you. Luffy’d done it many times in the past, usually following it up with a peck to whatever area of your face he’d wiped it from, and it always resulted in you becoming a fumbling, blushing mess.

At first, Sanji was furious about the prospect of you and Luffy engaging in a relationship. Like any typical older brother, he was insanely protective of you, to the point of being a tad overprotective, but with a bit of coaxing and time to adapt to the idea, he became reluctantly accepting of it.

You liked to assume he only relented because he knew there was truly no way that he’d be able to stop it, as you’d once told Luffy.

The attraction you two had had to one another was undeniable from the moment your eyes had met at Baratie; and for Luffy, that first bite of that lovely macaron you’d shyly offered him simply sealed it in stone that he was in love with you. Love at first sight and taste, Luffy liked to say.

It wasn’t just your exceptional baking skills that drew Luffy in; you were also rather adept at fighting. When Arlong and his fishmen had attacked the Baratie, you jumped in with no fear or hesitation — your weapon of choice had been the multitudes of silver ware and platters among the tables, and though your eyes were screwed shut every time you threw one, it seemed to always hit its mark. Luffy knew that you and Sanji were the exact kind of people that he wanted on his crew, so he was all too eager to invite you both. Though most of the reasons he wanted you to join were similar to Sanji’s, there were a few that definitely weren’t similar.

When both you and Sanji had agreed to join the crew, Luffy was absolutely overjoyed — at that point, you two had still been delicately swimming around each other, aware of the spark but too bashful and timid to try to fan the flame. It only took a couple of weeks and many pastry-filled twilight trysts in the galley for you two to give in to the chemistry, ultimately leading up to this point.

“Luffy, I already told you this batch would take about an hour and half. Just be patient.” You sighed, but the smile on your face told Luffy that you weren’t truly irritated with him. Luffy sniffed and slipped from the stool he was occupying to swing around the counter and stand at your side.

“Well, if it’s going to take that long, can I at least try the icing?”

You rolled your eyes and popped out a hip while setting the piping bag down delicately on the counter beside the tray of cookies. You put on your best stern face and pointed a finger at him.

“Last time I let you ‘try the icing’ I didn’t have enough left to finish the rest of the batch.” You reminded him, and Luffy simply smiled at you before slipping his arms around your waist and pulling you just a smidge closer, until there was only about an inch between your bodies. Luffy’s chest swelled at the way your cheeks colored. Luffy widened his eyes in the way you affectionally dubbed as ‘puppy dog eyes’, mostly because he knew they were nearly impossible for you to say no to, but also because he really wanted to try that icing.

By the way your eyes softened and the giant sigh you heaved, Luffy knew he’d won.

“Fine. But just a little bit. And then I expect you to let me finish the cookies, got it?” Luffy could tell you were doing your best to sound stern, but it was hard to take you seriously when you just looked so cute and sexy.

Luffy wasn’t scared to vocalize this opinion of his either, and when you sputtered and grabbed the piping bag, he wasn’t even angry when his little taste ended up being a given with a little extra all over his face.

#opla #opla luffy x reader #opla x reader #luffy x reader #one piece

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estapa-edwards · 2 months

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HIDDEN FEELINGS - M. ESTAPA

paring: Mark Estapa x fem! reader

word count: 3.1k

requested? yes - mark falling for ethan’s twin sister, and never doing anything out of respect but ethan notices his heart eyes and tells him to go for it

warnings: use of y/n. multiple pov

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The rink is where I feel most alive. The smooth glide of my skates over the ice, the echo of the puck against the boards, the camaraderie of my teammates—hockey is more than a game to me, it’s a way of life. Playing for the University of Michigan has always been a dream, and now, here I am, living it.

I'm the twin sister of Ethan Edwards. Yes, that Ethan Edwards who's a standout player on the University of Michigan hockey team, right alongside Mark Estapa. Growing up, Ethan and I were inseparable. Hockey was our mutual love, and even though we both made it to the university level, we ended up on different teams. Ethan plays as a defenseman, known for his strength and reliability, while I'm a forward, valued for my speed and strategy.

Mark Estapa, on the other hand, is a force to be reckoned with on the ice. As a forward like me, he's got an uncanny ability to read the game, find the gaps in the defense, and score those crucial goals. He’s a great player, and over the seasons, I’ve come to respect and admire his skills.

Our growing friendship, however, didn’t happen overnight. Our two teams would occasionally practice together, and it was during these joint sessions that I began to notice Mark's friendly and approachable nature. We'd find ourselves paired up during drills or chatting during water breaks.

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One afternoon, after a particularly intense drill, Mark and I found ourselves catching our breaths on the bench.

“You handled that drill pretty well, Y/N,” Mark said, flashing me a genuine smile.

“Thanks, Mark. You weren’t too bad yourself,” I replied, matching his smile.

From there, our conversations became longer and more meaningful. One day, as we were stretching before practice, Mark turned to me with a curious expression.

“So, Y/N, what made you choose Michigan?” he asked, genuinely interested.

“I guess it was a combination of things,” I answered, thinking back to my decision. “The coaching staff here is amazing, and the program has a great reputation. Plus, Ethan being here didn’t hurt,” I added with a playful grin.

Mark chuckled. “I can see how having family around could be a bonus. I chose Michigan for similar reasons. The team has a great dynamic, and the opportunities for growth both as a player and a student are unparalleled.”

Our conversations didn’t just revolve around hockey; we talked about our classes, our hobbies, and our future goals. It was during one of these post-practice chats that Mark opened up about his passion for photography.

“I’ve always loved taking pictures,” he said, showing me some of his recent shots on his phone. “It’s a way for me to capture moments and emotions that words can’t express.”

I was impressed by his talent and passion. “These are amazing, Mark. You have a real eye for it.”

“Thanks, Y/N. It’s something I hope to pursue more seriously someday,” he said, looking slightly vulnerable.

As the weeks went by, our conversations continued to deepen. We shared stories about our families, our dreams, and even our fears. I found myself looking forward to our practice sessions not just for the hockey but also for the chance to spend time with Mark.

We'd find ourselves paired up during drills or chatting during water breaks. Our teammates began to notice our growing camaraderie, and it wasn’t uncommon for them to tease us about our lengthy conversations.

“You two should just start your own podcast,” Ethan joked one day as he walked past us, a smirk on his face.

Despite the teasing, Mark and I cherished our newfound friendship. Our long conversations became the highlight of my day, and I found myself feeling more and more connected to him with each passing practice.

But lately, it's not just his skills on the ice that have caught my attention.

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Growing up as a twin, you learn the importance of boundaries and loyalty early on. Ethan and I shared everything—our toys, our secrets, our dreams. So, when I first joined the University of Michigan's hockey team and met Mark Estapa, I couldn’t help but notice his attractiveness. His tall stature, his athletic build, and that charming smile were hard to ignore. But I also knew he was Ethan’s teammate, and I would never do anything to jeopardize their friendship or our family bond.

During those early practices, I would steal glances at Mark, admiring his skill and athleticism on the ice. His dedication and passion for the game were evident, and it only added to his appeal. But each time I felt a flutter in my stomach or caught myself daydreaming about him, I would quickly push those feelings aside, reminding myself of the unspoken rule: teammates were off-limits.

As our teams began to practice together more frequently, Mark and I started to interact more. Our conversations were light-hearted and filled with laughter, but underneath it all, there was an undeniable chemistry brewing. I found myself drawn to him not just because of his looks but also because of his personality. He was kind, thoughtful, and genuinely interested in getting to know me.

Despite these growing feelings, I was determined to keep my emotions in check. I didn’t want to create any awkwardness or tension within the team, especially given Ethan’s close friendship with Mark.

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MARKS POV

The first time Y/n Edwards and I really talked was during one of those joint practices. I remember it well— we were both catching our breath on the bench after a tough drill. I looked over at Y/N, and for the first time, I saw her not just as Ethan's twin sister but as Y/N Edwards, an incredible player in her own right.

“You handled that drill pretty well, Y/N,” I said, trying to initiate a conversation.

“Thanks, Mark. You weren’t too bad yourself,” she replied, matching my smile.

In that moment, something shifted. Her smile, her wit, the way she talked about hockey—it all captivated me. She was more than just a talented player; she was someone I wanted to get to know on a deeper level.

As we continued to chat, our conversation flowed effortlessly. We talked about everything from our reasons for choosing Michigan to our hobbies and interests outside of hockey. I was genuinely intrigued by her, and I found myself wanting to learn more about the person behind the player.

But as much as I was drawn to Y/N, I knew I had to tread carefully. She was Ethan's sister, and I didn't want to overstep any boundaries or make things awkward within the team. So, I tried to keep our interactions friendly and professional, all while secretly hoping for more.

The more I got to know Y/N, the harder it became to ignore my growing feelings for her. Her intelligence, her passion for the game, and her kind-hearted nature made her irresistibly attractive to me. But I also knew that acting on my feelings could complicate things, and I didn't want to risk our friendship or create any tension within the team.

Despite these internal struggles, I couldn’t deny the connection I felt with Y/N. Each conversation, each laugh, each shared moment only deepened my admiration and affection for her. I found myself looking forward to our joint practices not just for the hockey but also for the chance to spend time with her.

But lately, it's not just her skills on the ice that have caught my attention.

During one of our joint practices, we were waiting for our turn to jump onto the ice for the next drill. Y/N was leaning against the boards, lacing up her skates, completely engrossed in her task. The afternoon light streamed through the windows, casting a soft glow on her face and highlighting the golden undertones in her hair.

I couldn’t help but stare.

She looked up, catching my gaze, and flashed me a quick smile before returning her attention to her skates. My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly looked away, hoping she hadn’t noticed my lingering gaze.

As we took to the ice for the next drill, I found myself distracted, my thoughts consumed by the simple beauty of that moment. Y/N's natural grace and poise, even in something as mundane as lacing up her skates, left me in awe.

I knew I was treading dangerous waters, but in that moment, I couldn’t help but be captivated by her beauty. She was more than just a talented hockey player; she was a vision of grace and elegance that I found myself drawn to, unable to look away.

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Y/N POV

I found myself watching Mark as he talked with some of our teammates. He was animated, gesturing with his hands and laughing at something someone had said. I was captivated by his energy and charisma, and for a moment, I lost myself in the way the sunlight caught the highlights in his hair and how his eyes sparkled with genuine happiness.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice Ethan approaching until he spoke, "You okay, Y/N? You seem a little distracted."

Startled, I quickly looked away from Mark, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Oh, uh, yeah, I'm fine," I stammered, trying to regain my composure.

Ethan gave me a knowing smile but didn’t press further. "Alright, just making sure," he said, patting me gently on the shoulder before heading back to the group.

Relieved that Ethan hadn’t called me out on my obvious distraction, I took a deep breath and refocused on the practice. But even as I skated back onto the ice, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Mark was becoming more than just a teammate to me.

One evening, I found myself at Ethan's apartment, sprawled out on the couch with a bowl of popcorn, ready to watch a movie. Ethan had invited some of his teammates over, including Mark, to hang out and relax after a grueling week of practice and games.

As I settled into the comfortable cushions, Mark walked into the living room, a casual smile on his face. He greeted everyone warmly before taking a seat on the armchair opposite the couch. Our eyes met briefly, and a subtle spark passed between us, but we both quickly looked away, maintaining a friendly distance in front of Ethan and the others.

As the movie started to play, Ethan and Mark began discussing a recent game, dissecting plays and strategies with the kind of intensity only true hockey enthusiasts possess. I found myself drawn into the conversation, sharing my own insights and opinions, and soon, Mark and I were engaged in our own little world of hockey talk, much to Ethan's amusement.

Throughout the evening, I couldn't help but steal glances at Mark, admiring his easygoing demeanor and genuine interest in our conversation. His laughter was infectious, and I found myself laughing along with him, feeling a connection that went beyond our shared love for hockey.

Despite the casual setting and the presence of Ethan and the others, I couldn’t ignore the growing tension between Mark and me. It was as if we were dancing around the undeniable chemistry that had been building between us, both of us aware of the line we were toeing but unwilling to cross it in front of Ethan and our teammates.

As the evening wore on and the movie came to an end, I realized that my feelings for Mark were becoming harder to ignore. He wasn’t just a teammate or Ethan’s friend; he was someone I genuinely cared about, and I found myself looking forward to the next opportunity to spend time with him, both on and off the ice.

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ETHANS POV

As the evening unfolded in my apartment, I couldn't help but notice the subtle undercurrents between Mark and Y/N. From my vantage point on the couch, I could see the way they exchanged glances when they thought no one was looking, the way their laughter seemed to echo in sync, and the way they both seemed completely engrossed in their own world, despite the presence of our teammates.

At first, I brushed it off as mere camaraderie—after all, they were both passionate about hockey and had been spending a lot of time together at practices. But as the evening wore on, I began to sense something more—a genuine connection that went beyond friendship.

I glanced over at Y/N, who was laughing at something Mark had said, her eyes sparkling with amusement. Then I looked at Mark, who was smiling back at her, his eyes softening in a way I had never seen before. It was clear that there was something special between them, something that went beyond the confines of the rink and our hockey team.

As Y/N and Mark continued to talk and laugh together, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of surprise and curiosity. Mark was my teammate and one of my closest friends, and Y/N was my twin sister. The thought of them being more than just friends was unexpected, but the more I observed their interactions, the more it made sense.

Despite my initial reservations, I couldn’t deny the connection between them. They seemed to complement each other in a way that was both surprising and endearing. And as much as it caught me off guard, I found myself rooting for them, hoping that they would find happiness together, both on and off the ice.

As the evening came to an end and everyone started to say their goodbyes, I pulled Mark aside for a moment.

"Hey, man, are you and Y/N...you know, getting close?" I asked cautiously, not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

Mark looked slightly taken aback but then smiled, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "Yeah, I think we are," he said, his voice filled with genuine warmth.

I smiled back, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. "Well, as long as you're both happy, that's all that matters," I replied,

"Are you serious? I was so scared to tell you that I think I'm falling for her." Mark said.

I looked at Mark, surprised by his honesty and vulnerability. His eyes were sincere, and I could see the genuine concern in them.

"Mark, I had no idea you felt that way," I said, feeling a pang of guilt for not noticing his hesitation earlier. "I'm sorry for putting you on the spot like that."

Mark chuckled softly, his smile returning but with a slightly nervous edge. "It's okay, Ethan. I guess I've just been overthinking things. I really care about Y/N, and I didn't want to mess things up, especially since we're teammates and she's your sister."

I clapped Mark on the shoulder, offering him a reassuring smile. "Look, as surprising as it is, I'm actually really happy for you two. Y/N deserves someone who genuinely cares about her, and I can see that you do. Just promise me you'll treat her right, okay?"

Mark nodded earnestly, his eyes shining with gratitude. "I promise, Ethan. She means a lot to me, and I want to do right by her."

Feeling reassured, I smiled at Mark, grateful for his honesty and commitment to Y/N. "Alright then, I trust you. Just remember, if you ever hurt her, you'll have to answer to me," I added with a playful smirk.

Mark laughed, his tension finally breaking. "Understood, Captain."

As we rejoined the others to say our final goodbyes, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and excitement. Despite the unexpected turn of events, I was genuinely happy for Y/N and Mark. They had found something special in each other, and as their friend and brother, I couldn't wait to see where their relationship would lead.

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Y/N POV

As we approached my apartment building, the atmosphere between Mark and me had shifted subtly. There was a sense of anticipation, a tangible connection that seemed to be growing stronger with each step we took. When we reached the entrance, Mark stopped and turned to face me, his blue eyes reflecting a mix of excitement and vulnerability.

"Y/N, there's something I need to tell you," he began, his voice slightly shaky but sincere. "Earlier, when Ethan asked me if we were getting close, I told him that I think I'm falling for you."

I felt my heart leap in my chest, a rush of emotions surging through me. His confession was unexpected but also exhilarating, confirming the feelings I had been trying to suppress.

"Mark," I started, searching for the right words to express the whirlwind of emotions I was feeling. "I'm not sure how to say this, but... I think I'm falling for you too."

The moment the words left my lips, a wide smile spread across Mark's face, his eyes lighting up with joy and relief.

"Really?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine happiness.

I nodded, feeling a warm blush spread across my cheeks. "Yes, really. I've been trying to ignore my feelings, but the truth is, I've been falling for you too, Mark."

A look of pure happiness washed over Mark's face, and without hesitation, he stepped closer, cupping my face gently with his hands. "Y/N, I'm so glad to hear that," he whispered, his eyes locked onto mine.

Feeling emboldened by our mutual confession, I leaned in, closing the distance between us, and our lips met in a soft, sweet kiss. It was a simple yet powerful affirmation of the connection we had both been feeling but had been too afraid to acknowledge until now.

As we pulled apart, our faces flushed and smiles wide, Mark looked into my eyes, his gaze filled with warmth and affection.

"Do you wanna come in?" I asked, my voice soft and inviting, the words coming out almost on their own accord, as if guided by the newfound courage and excitement that bubbled within me.

Mark's eyes sparkled with anticipation, but he hesitated for a moment, wanting to be respectful of the situation and our budding relationship.

"Are you sure?" he asked gently, his voice tinged with a mix of excitement and caution.

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. "Yes, I'm sure," I replied, feeling a surge of boldness.

A broad smile spread across Mark's face, his eyes shining with happiness and relief. "I'd love to," he said, his voice filled with genuine warmth and excitement.

Taking my hand in his, Mark followed me into the building, our fingers intertwined as we headed up to my apartment.

#mark estapa #mark estapa imagine #mark estapa x reader #umich wolverines #umich hockey #umich boys

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cuppajj · 8 days

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Which of the neo beast is the most vunerable or easy to attack amd defeat among the five

No Neo Beast is easy to defeat, let alone even light sweat work; they’re on the levels of the previous beasts themselves, and threaten to grow stronger by the day. However, if you miraculously had what it took to fight each of them, here are the fights from least to most difficult:

The most difficult to determine is Saint Vanilla Cookie, who as is, is only one force. While he may have some zealots yet to meet his touch, he has no army or guard to back him, and thus can easily be outnumbered. However, he’s the deadliest of the Neo Beasts for a reason, and his magic might be able to sweep an entire force in seconds. There’s just no telling, but one thing for sure is that if he achieves his goal, stopping him will truly be next to impossible. He may be the easiest to fight just as he may be the hardest…

Next is either Cheese or Lily; while Cheese has a small force of subjugated cookies, they are intensely zealous and throw away their lives in the name of her gracious vision. Cheese also has the ability to summon countless arms that can turn anything to gold with their touch, which makes close combat virtually impossible. Lily has a larger force of equally loyal troops, but hers are far more organized. Lily’s no commander though, and ruling is still something new to her, so she’s not the same level of strategist as Cheese or Cacao are. However, the fae are deadly if you’re fighting within the forest, especially if their queen is present, because she can turn the entire forest against you with the wave of her hand. Blades of grass can turn into impaling pikes just like that.

Dragonberry may not have much magic, but she’s the physically strongest Beast of the entire group with the largest army to boot. While she has a chain of command who do a sum of the conquering on her behalf, the tides change for the worse if the Beast herself were to show up. With just her shield, she can take on masses of foes, and is ridiculously hearty. She only joins battles when she’s done watching them, and wants to speed the result up; and if she’s feeling fun, she can sic the Red Dragon themself on you. However, her pride can make her stubborn, and her levels of strategy are nowhere near Cacao. It’s why she’s doing whatever it takes to become stronger. Just think of what she could be if she achieved dragonhood…

Speaking of Cacao, he’s arguably the most underestimated Neo Beast in terms of strength. He may be a recluse with his kingdom under ice, but much of his strongest warriors are alive and the entirety of the nightmarish licorice sea is loyal to him. Because he doesn’t look like neither a strategist, commander, or warrior when he’s slumped over and emotionless on his throne, he lets his deceptive appearance weaken any foe who doesn’t know any better. Bear in mind, if you step into his kingdom, let alone his throne room, it’s because he let you. If you and your army think you can take on his army and an unending ocean full of abyssal horrors, he’d be willing to see you try.

#beast ancients au

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hxroic-wxlls-rxvived · 4 days

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“ Those Broly’s are a real interesting bunch, I’ll tell you that. The one in the green skirt taught me the proper way to eat giant monster beetles, and the one in the red skirt tried to bounce me like a rubber ball. Both were fun experiences, though, don’t get me wrong. “

“ Yeah, for you, maybe. Turns out, when you actually have bones to break, being used like a trampoline hurts a lot more. “

Those parallel quests were always on the painful end.

#{crack}#{a bizarre mindset: ic}#{strength in strategy: ic}#{muse ramblings}

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makrokosmuss-blog · 8 months

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Cold to the touch

Summary: Bi-Han has you, prisoner of the Lin Kuei, with your back against the wall, wanting nothing in this realm more than your submission and respect. That you defy him again and again somehow pleasures him even more.

Warning: Nothing serious. Some boundary breaking. Two very broad brothers being very territorial. Reader can be either seen as reader or Harumi. Part I Full Story is on Ao3, found here

She was sleeping. Her hair had dried during the night, after it had been soaked through in the rain yesterday. Now it was laying softly around her head and over her cheekbone. Her chest was rising and falling slowly in deep slumber. He could make out traces of dried blood on her ripped undershirt, where his ice had pierced her skin. Watched closely, at the curve of her soft lips. At her eyes, resting closed, long eyelashes fluttered chut against her cheeks.

Smoke and her lay close. The boy even had her Shirt draped over him still. Bi-Han crouched between them, grasping it. The fabric was soft and he could make out it’s faint, sweet smell. It too had dried and warmed by the fire next to them. A fire that was slowly fading off, since his brother had stopped to spurt it on.

Other than those two here, who seemed dead, as silent as they were in their slumber, Kuai Liang was snoring away behind him. Had since he was a child. And it had awfully bothered the older, since he had been a child as well. Just as back then, Bi-Han grimaced at his brother, then turned to the woman again.

His fascination with her was ever growing. To his absolute surprise. He had seen her fight him. She was not just good. But brilliant. A kind of brilliant that frightened him to the core. Having grown up, learning that no one could ever rival the force and might of the Lin Kuei, it was a shock to see her handle his brother like that.

If her Clan had truly trained her, then she must either be too talented to be with them or they would need to be erased before growing in strength further. His eyes were cold as he looked down upon her. But his feelings swirled within him.

He had not ever seen a woman fight like she had. Had envied his brother for facing her in Combat, as he saw their dance, their connection. Even more so as he laid eyes on her. She was as beautiful as fierce to him. Truly a waste to have her sacrificed for the retaliation and submission of her clan. The thoughts in his head ran rampant. Maybe no sacrifice would be necessary. Maybe there were other uses for her.

Without thinking about it much, his mind occupied by thought of war and strategy, he had replaced her shirt, which he had taken from Smoke, over her body. If it was not for the waging war between their clans, he could form an alliance with her. She had the skill, surely. And she was fierce. She was trained in the art of war and strategy, a clever woman. And a beautiful woman, he dreamed again, watching her from up so close. His eyes trailing over each part of her body, spread out before him. They stayed with her face once more. Fascinated, Captivated. Had found the need and curiosity of running his hand through her hair too greatly to withstand then. Without his gloves on, he followed that urge. Touching her cheek, then running over it, tangling into her hairline. Feeling the softness and fullness of it, after it had curled due to the rain yesterday.

And then feeling the sting of her fiery gaze, as her eyes had opened and found him the second he had touched her. It only made him smile. To see her so intense in her disapproval of his touch. Like a cat, woken from her midday rest, she glared at him. Elegant and beautiful and untamed. So much spite in that woman, so much hostility. So much will.

“I’d advise against ever touching me without my consent. Prince of the Lin Kuei.” Her tone was a sleepy mixture of fierceness and whisper. A growl so soft only a woman could produce it. It did things to him. Stirred him in a way that he was not quite sure he was comfortable with. Which in turn made him more prone towards it. He felt his stomach turning at her tone in the best possible way.

“Give your consent then.” He challenged, a grin not hidden in his voice as he watched her getting up and away from him in a way both elegant and distinctly hostile.

Oh did he love that he did not see a hint of fear in her eyes. He would love to break her majestic facade.

He rose from his kneeling form with her. Again towering over her, as she took skillful steps back and away from him.

“Why would you want it? My consent? And to what ends?” When she asked, there was a clear curiosity in her voice and gaze alike. He had asked that himself. Why would he want her? Why was he fascinated by her? He’d found many reasons then. Too above her to list them, he answered in a shrug, following up to her.

Still she did not look scared. Not as she noticed his gaze traveling down her body and not as he fixed it on her eyes again. She was regal looking even, she held her head high, showing defiance rather than Worry over his dominant form.

“I simply admired your hair. And when I want to touch something, I do. Because I can.”, he finally admitted, trying to resolve their strange tension.

He stood close now, after she had stopped to back off. Close enough to touch, although he did behave himself. “Oh. My hair. I see.”, she spoke, her voice seeping with sarcasm. “It’s your skills really. You baffle me. A strange fascination. As if with a Mountain Lion.” It was grand of him to praise. He very rarely did this. And as he did, his hand rising to meet her, he grasped for a strand of her hair once more, letting it run through his fingers, as her eyes watched him closely. No hint of enjoyment of his precious admiration on her part. Rather cold disdain. She did not push him off though.

She spoke softly then, and yet with an edge to her. “You are the first son, the heir to the grandmaster. I am sure Women with more beautiful hair than mine pile at your feet, begging for your appreciation.” He smiled to himself at that. She was clever too. “Maybe I find liking in you because you don’t throw yourself at my feet.”

He watched curiously as she lifted a brow. Frowning at him, before stating: “You will never see me do such a thing, no. Nor will I ever grant permission of touch. So take your hands off me. Bi-Han.” With that she had placed her hand, so tender and soft, against his chest, giving him a solid shove, her eyes staring at him coldly.

A low, rasp growl escaped him. He did not like that at all. Or did he? Nonetheless, he wanted to, needed to show her how to have respect. He would not accept treatment as such. Swiftly he grasped for her shoulders, first pulling her around and then pushing her up hard against the next tree. Pinning her before him.

She winced. Then hissed at the pain and at him, once more reminding him so very much of an elegant and beautiful cat. He did not mind the little pain he caused her. Not when she was showing so little respect toward the Lin Kuei. Bi-Han took a good while to stare her down then. To put her in her place or take his time giving into obscure fantasies, he did not know. She looked so alluring to him. Absolutely devine in his grasp, so close to him. There was a burning warmth growing in his abdomen. He watched her eyes, the shape of her face, the curve of her lips. Lips looking so soft and so full that he could not stop himself and his want to touch them. Without much restraint he let go of her shoulder, cupping her cheek. Watching her closely as he carefully, ever so softly ran his thumb over her bottom lip. Careful and soft were not usual for him. Yet with her...he had no want to hurt her. Or do anything really against her will. But oh - did he want her to want him. To just give in. Just once. She would simply need a push. He was sure of it.

He bowed his head down towards hers, his cold gaze meeting the rebellious glimmer in her eyes. As he came even closer then, closing the gap of inches between them, he had positioned his head aside hers. Her cheek brushed against his, covered by mask, as he whispered to her in a tone that only made him notice how angered and yet pleasantly agitated he was.

“Do you truly think I need Permission? You are my prisoner.” He spoke this in a whispered tone. His voice even deeper than usual. Give in. He hoped, prayed that she would. Surrender to him in the sweetest, softest delightful way.

He was nearly shocked then, as even in such circumstances she did not falter, even a little. Instead of submitting, she did the opposite once more. Her hand resting on his side, grasping at his robes, the other on his cheek, forcefully turning his head toward her, to face her relentlessly fiery stare. In this demonstration of dominance, wanting her to flinch away from him so badly, she had chosen to get him closer. Not an inch separated them now as she looked him straight in his eyes, her voice filled with disdain and challenge as she raspily hissed at him: “You do need my permission. Since you do not have it, you will need to face me for what you want. And believe me i would fight with all my might, since I would rather lay down my life before having my honor tainted by a man as yourself.”

Her hand still grasped his jaw. Having him between her thumb and fingers, squeezing his mask rather harshly to hold him in position. The other still rested on his side. He felt her nails bearing into his skin. Felt the tension rise to endless heights pressed so close to her, still challenged by her, as she continued: “Do you think I don’t know what you are doing, Bi-Han? You have no interest in me. You are much too honorable and reasonable a man to be controlled by your urges. All you want to do is scare me into submission. All you need is my resounding respect and admiration. Let me tell you, Sub-Zero: You will not earn it this way.”

It had been like a punch to the gut that he had felt then. One that stirred his instincts more than any woman ever had. And oh she was wrong about one thing. She did interest him. Greatly. Highly so.

His jaw pressed shut tightly, grinding his teeth, he thought of an answer. Yet before he could speak again, he felt himself being grabbed and forcefully pulled back.

A force so strong he knew the second he had felt it that it could only be one person pulling him from her. And catching himself in his stumbling he glanced up, bearing his teeth at his brother, who was staring him down in anger and more so, burning rage.

Bi-Han was not interested in him. His eyes trailing over her again, instead. Now half covered by the broad frame of Kuai Liang. She was watching him as well. Her gaze and expression still and observing and questioning.

Questioning his intentions maybe. He himself did that. Only wanting her to fear him, to respect him, yet she did not. And then now, there was someone between them, holding him off on more of his testing.

Since neither had spoken a word and the younger had just awoken to the sight of their prisoner pushed up against a tree by him, he was the first to demand an answer. “Bi-Han?” His name in his brothers mouth came out more as a challenging growl than anything else. An enraged symbol of the want for answers, that showed Bi-Han very clearly that he was not the only one interested in you.

@oranoyaora, @soggychocolatewaffles, @genesiswrld, @deadlydivergentgirl

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corvidscrimes · 10 months

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My favorite part of the Real Time video was comparing the stick’s various strategies to getting out of the parkour trap, so I’ve compiled a bunch of my more notable observations below.

Red definitely utilized his biggest strength, his strength

When initially escaping his piglin he immediately went to overpower his by hand, and only once picked up a weapon

Blue on the other hand choose the least confrontational method to escape, and barely tussled with his piglin at all

Despite how many times they tried, neither Blue nor Yellow were ever able to make the long jump to the stone slab

Both Blue and Green liked to flip when crossing the slime block jump

Yellow always ran across the ice, unlike the others who slid, which was much more ineffective (though to be fair, the one time he did slide was the one time he fell lol)

Red always crossed the monkey bars with only one arm while the others would alternate arms or, in Yellow’s case, use both

Almost all of them fought with their piglin at some point, but Red was the only one to actively steal its weapon

Second seemed to be the only one to have a notable reaction to the traps rotating

Second just started taunting their piglin at one point???? Which I guess helped them get a lead but it was still really fuckin funny

Idk, it’s really neat to see their personalities come through even in small details

#alan becker #animation vs minecraft #corvid caws

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lesbianrobin · 5 days

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bard steve reasons:

vicious mockery

proficiency in dexterity and charisma

robin is a bard and i cannot think of anything more Them than being the same class and therefore kind of annoying for overall party composition (though she's college of eloquence and he's college of swords)

i literally just do not buy him as A Fighter. like jonathan fight aside he doesn't fucking want to fight anybody or anything his instinct is usually to run the fuck away from danger! he only stays/runs toward danger because he's got a squishy little heart and wants to protect others. he cannot Last in a fight with another person he can only win those by slipping away and/or playing it quick and dirty. when he fights monsters once again his strategy is typically to dart in and out before they can get a hit in and dodge a lot. his dex is absolutely higher than his strength.

re: him being college of swords. baby boy loves a flourish. hand him a nail bat or an ice cream scoop he's twirling it expertly even if he's mid-battle.

"but em bards have musical talent" and who was it that noticed the music in the background of the russian radio transmissions in s3? and recognized the exact source among the hundreds of sounds he heard in the mall every day? steve harrington baby!!!

and in more general terms bards are jacks of all trades and can be molded to kinda fill whatever role they Have to fill which i think makes a lot of sense for steve. xoxo love u all

#em talks #stranger things #steve harrington

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quillpokebiology · 4 months

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cinderace facts :0 ? (Not forced!)

Cinderace Facts

-The scientific name for Cinderace is "Lepus Calcitrus" which roughly translates to "kicking hare"

-Cinderace are lagamorphs and are close relatives of Lopunny, with both of them having powerful legs and long ears

-Cinderace are incredibly rare to find in the wild, as many wild Scorbunny don't need to evolve since they're strategy is to just hide, which is difficult when you're big. But, the ones that do live in the wild tend to live in grasslands and live in large warrens with other Scorbunny or Raboot, sometimes other letting harmless pokemon live there as well

-It also is partly our fault why Cinderace are so hard to find in the wild. Many hunters would hunt Cinderace for their fur, as their fluff could be used to make warm coats, so many Raboot would not evolve to avoid being hunted. This has carried on for generations now

-Cinderace's kicking style is what inspired the sport, football (soccer in Unova)

-Cinderace can run up to 50 mph

-While many fire types have their heat sacs located near their throats, Cinderace have small heat sacs located in their chest and small heat sacs in their feet. Cold weather can weaken their heat sacs and make them sluggish and have weakened fire abilities. Raboot tend to do better in the cold because of their thicker fur

-Cinderace are complete herbivores, eating grasses, shoots, vegetables, and berries

-While Cinderace are strong, they were bred for League based battles, so much of their strength is for showing off or was made to look very extravagant for an audience. In the wild, when there are basically no rules for battling, Cinderace tend to not do very well and would rather use their speed to run away than fight

-Cinderace are one of the most vocal lagamorphs (I'm sure we all knows it's screaming sound, I sure as Hell do. Flash, I love you, but please hush)

-To intimidate predators, Cinderace will give flame-charged stomps that scorch the ground. Sometimes, they get carried away and start a fire

-Pokemon that hunt Cinderace are Liepard, Boltund, Arcanine, Ninetales, and sometimes Thievul

-When happy or excited, Cinderace will make a soft squeaking sound

-There were many versions of Primative Cinderace living around the same time, each with a different typing. The ones that lived in the field were Fire/Electric types, the ones living in the mountains were Fire/Fighting or Fire/Ice types, and ones that lived in colder climates were fire/ice type

-Cinderace can lay up to 5 eggs in a litter

-Cinderace are very social and affectiontte pokemon, and its highly recommended that you have other pokemon along with them and give them lots of attention

-Contrary to popular belief, Cinderace can swim, and are quite good at it

-Unlike Lopunny and Diggersby, female Cinderace can't lay multiple litters in a year. Their smaller litter size compared to other lagamorphs (the average litter for Lopunny and Diggersby being 9), only a 12% of Cinderace being female, and over hunting in the past has contributed to their decline

#cinderace #quill awnsers #pokemon biology #pokemon biologist #rotomblr #pokemon irl #pokeblogging #pokeblog #irl pokemon #pokemon #pokeblr #rotumblr #pkmn irl #pokemon roleplay #irl pkmn #pokedex

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rustingcat · 8 months

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Morning

The talk with Alex stayed with Kara weeks later. There were so many opportunities she wanted to say something to Lena, confess her love, but something in her stopped her. A shame she didn't realise she was carrying was holding her back. It was thanks to the talk that she started to understand this feeling, but it didn't solve it. Alex said it was a process…

Kara was desperate to figure out how to shed away the shame. It took her months to shed away the odd feelings in her chest every time someone recognised her in the street or asked for a photo. She used to smile away the feeling while hoping for the interaction to be over, because all the attention felt wrong. She only now realised that it was because of the shame, the shame rooted in the need to be normal and in line with society. It was, after all, an existential order she followed that was important to her survival, or at least what she was led to believe for years. She had lived in survival mode for way too long, far longer than necessary, but it was a hard habit to shake after experiencing the eliminations of her entire race and home planet at a young age, and then landing on an alien planet with a completely different language and set of rules.

She took a deep breath.

Kara had managed getting used to earth, and she had managed coming out as Supergirl, she could manage being queer.

Thanks to Kelly's advice she finally started seeing a psychologist once a week. She spent two months with the first one until she accepted it didn't work for her. She thought about stopping altogether, fearing she spent too much of her time on money on nothing, but Kelly insisted it was part of the process. She was a bit more selective later until she landed on Brook, an alien psychologist that Kara felt she really clicked with. The whole deal was still somewhat awkward and strange, but even after only a few sessions in, she felt like she was starting to make some progress. The main thing Brook stressed to her is the importance of communication, especially between partners, and even more importantly, between parents. Brook herself was a mother of two, she happily shared pictures with Kara who was just as excited to see them. She couldn't wait to share her own baby photos with her.

Kara was a woman of action, she always found it much easier to just act rather than to talk through her emotions. She may have been writing for a living, but telling a story, especially someone else’s, was much easier than sorting her own thoughts in her head. Maybe it was time to change that.

After gathering her inner strength, Kara picked a calm Sunday morning for the conversation with Lena. She realised that picking an evening might leave her replaying it all in her head while failing to sleep, so at least if it all were to go horribly wrong in the morning, she could fall apart at her sister's and hopefully have enough time to process it in the rest of the day.

She started with her usual strategy of getting too much food for even her to consume, (she may have eaten three pints of chocolate ice cream quickly by herself). She also bought flowers like Alex suggested and held on to the bouquet while waiting near the table. There was no need for her to make breakfast with the amount of boxes she brought from all over the world, so she just sat there and waited.

The change in Lena's heartbeat got her attention, she straightened herself up and waited for Lena to appear. Lena was an early riser, usually up before Kara. The only reason Kara was up before her was sheer restlessness, excitement and anxiety. Kara took the liberty of starting preparing her coffee, so Lena would have an immediate cup once she entered the kitchen. Kara was, of course, very familiar with Lena's favourite blend and knew exactly how she liked her coffee after years of friendship. She liked making her coffee, it was her small way to let her know that she's cared for, that she would always be cared for.

Lena's sleepy face made her heart race in her chest, it was amazing how stunning she was so early in the morning, wearing only an old worn shirt that was slightly too big for her and some old sweatpants, her hair was wild and untamed from sleep and she was the most beautiful thing Kara had ever seen in her life.

She presented her coffee with an enthusiastic hand, which Lena accepted with a smile and a soft hum.

Kara chose to have this conversation in the morning, but she wanted Lena to be fully awake before starting anything, so she opened one of the boxes and gestured to Lena to dig in.

"What's with the flowers?" Lena asked once she reached the halfway point through her coffee mug.

"Uh," Kara forgot she was still holding on to them on the table, she wanted to surprise Lena with them, holding them behind her back and all like in the movies, but she seemed to have forgotten about it in her anxiety. "They are for you." She held them out for Lena to see.

"They're beautiful." She smiled.

"Yeah, well, you deserve beautiful things." Kara tried her best to sound casual and not as though the tension was making her blood pump in her ears.

"Is there a –"

"I found this empty vase laying around, would that–"

"Yes this is perfect." Lena nodded with a small smile.

Kara smiled back, happily busing herself with filling the water as Lena opened the first box.

"Are those the scones from Dublin?"

"Yeah." Kara, still next to the sink, didn't look back as she felt her face grow redder by the moment.

"Is today some sort of special event I'm not aware of?" Lena chuckled. "If so, I'm really sorry I didn't get you anything."

"No, no." Kara finally turned back to her, taking the flowers out of Lena’s hands and placing them into the vase. "I just wanted to surprise you, to make you happy."

"Kara, you always make me happy, but did something happen?" Lena asked, worried.

"Can I just surprise you with flowers and your favourite food?" Kara chuckled nervously.

"Mm…" Lena hummed, chewing on a buttered scone. "I know you too well, Kara Danvers."

Kara took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her hammering heart. It did not help. She sat down on her chair and opened one of the doughnut boxes, she ate a quick glazed one before she trusted herself enough to speak.

"I.. um… Well, I did want to talk to you about something," she started, her gaze deep in the sugary box. "But I want you to be fully awake before I start." She lifted her eyes to meet Lena's, she wanted her to know how important it was.

"Well," Lena emptied her mug in a final gulp. "I'm all yours."

"Right," Kara said in a higher pitch than usual, putting her hand on the table as she started to tap it nervously.

"Kara," Lena reached out to cover her hand with hers. "You know you can tell me anything right?"

The sincerity in her eyes, the softness of them, made Kara's body immediately relax. It was Lena, they have been through so much already, even if it all goes south they could still get through this.

"I had a talk with Alex, and had a lot of thinking to do, and it all made me realise something and accept it about myself in ways I couldn't before."

Lena kept her hand on top of Kara's. "I'm proud of you." She said with a smile, not even knowing what Kara was referring to yet.

"Thanks," Kara shot her a smile. "It's.. well… it's something that has to do with you."

"Me? Is this about the twins?"

"No! I mean, I suppose everything with them helped me finally realise that, but no it's not about them. I'm, of course, still super happy to have them! It's just not about them, it's about you. Well, how I feel about you." Kara gathered all of her inner strengths to flip Lena's hand on the table so she could hold it with intention.

"And how do you feel about me," Lena inquired, a slight suspension in her voice.

"So much Lena. I have so many feelings for you, I was just too slow at realising that, and then I was afraid of how you might react and just panicked altogether." She chuckled. "Alex helped me figure out that I have been holding myself off, that I've been still pressuring myself to be and act in ways that I think I should be, rather than what I am, or what I want to be. And you, well, I figured out what I really feel about you. Or, at least, what I actually felt for a long time and just didn't know, or was just too afraid to find out." She knew she was rambling, she just hoped Lena got what she was trying to say between all of this.

But Lena's eyes were guarded, she took her hand back and got up. "What are you saying Kara?" She took a step back. "What feelings?"

Kara's heart sank. Was she rejecting her? No, no, it was Lena. She would be kind and gentle if she were to do that. No, she must've not understood what she was saying. It was her fault really, she was talking around in circles too afraid to speak clearly. Lena looked so small suddenly and it was all her fault. She had to fix it.

Kara took a deep breath and stepped closer to Lena, letting her walk away if she wanted to, when she didn't step back, Kara moved closer.

"What I'm saying is," Kara cupped Lena’s face, swiping her cheek lightly with her thumb as she raised her gaze to meet hers. She wanted Lena to see the sincerity in her eyes as she said her next words. "I love you, Lena. I love you in a way I've never loved anyone before. I'm in love with you Lena Luthor."

Read everything in order in AO3

#they talked!#supercorp #supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #art #supercorptober2023 #supercorptober #my art #my fic

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bodegacowboy · 2 months

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Striking distance

Bathed in the soft glow of flickering lanterns, a handsome young couple fought. Sweat flowed down their bodies as they faced each other in the exact center of the dojo. Their eyes locked in a steely gaze. It was subtle, barely noticeable amidst the chaos of the battle. However, as they took a moment to assess one another, it became clear. Their breathing had fallen into perfect harmony, as if they were two halves of the same whole. Inhales and exhales merged, a symphony of sound that echoed through the empty dojo.

Sakura broke the ceasefire.

Launching into action, she unleashed a flurry of furious strikes at Naruto. Her fists moved with lightning speed, powerful strikes aimed at his head and torso. Each punch fueled by determination, seeking to overpower her opponent with sheer force. The heavy but precise blows hammered at her opponent’s defense with surgical precision.

Stone faced, Naruto did not back down. With swift reflexes and honed skill, he evaded her with more thunderous attacks. When an opportunity presented itself, he took it. Every strike was a calculated risk, but an improvised movement. Variety was crucial. No repeated strategies, consecutive combinations, patterns, or habits. Flowing like water. While one hand skirted danger by deflecting a punch, the other hand was already attacking. Each hand moved in cohesion, uncertain of the other’s actions.

But the assault did not stop. Sakura pressed on, her attacks becoming more aggressive with each passing moment. Naruto remained unfazed; with confidence he stepped into the eye of the hurricane.

In the quiet embrace of the dojo, lit by the soft glow of paper lanterns, the battle spoke volumes. A mesmerizing dance of skill, strength, and passion. Their effortless grace was a testament to their years of combat.

Then Naruto spoke

“Sakura...” He huffed. “Will you marry me?”

She froze mid punch, her clenched fist hovering in the air inches from his face. Her brow furrowing in confusion, she squeaked, “What?”

Naruto grinned. “Will you marry me?”

Sakura scoffed, “Nice try. But I’m not falling for that. You want to distract me.”

“Why I would I want to distract you?”

“I’m two seconds away from knocking you out.”

“Knocking me out--? I would have dodged that punch...or blocked it—Not important, at least not right now.��

He looked her over. She remained locked up in her punching motion. A spot on imitation of an ice statue.

“Okay...” Naruto pressed on. “It’s a little sudden, but....it came out. So... Will you marry me?”

Sakura’s eyes widened in shock, her mouth now hanging open in disbelief.

She stared at him. He shrugged. Her eyes narrowed, roaming, tracing invisible paths across his face.

“Stop it” Sakura stammered, her voice a mixture of astonishment and bewilderment. “Stop playing around.”

“I’m not playing around,” Naruto said, a hopeful smile on his lips. “We were supposed to be playing and experimenting with this spar, but you-you were off a little intense.”

Sakura unlocked herself. Taking a half step back out of her punching form, she sighed and straightened herself up. “I’m sorry, I was really focused.”

“I noticed.”

“I was feeling it, y’know.”

“Yeah, my ribs are feeling it too. Feeling bruised.”

She stared again, with even more disbelief. “Naruto. Did you just... propose to me?”

He nodded.

Disbelief again, now mixed in with some frustration, Sakura shook her head. “You’re really doing this, aren’t you?”

Naruto nodded again, a small smile playing on his lips. “Absolutely. So, what do you say?”

“You can’t!”

“I-can’t?”

Absolutely not, particularly during a fight.

“A spar...”

“I just-”

“So, that’s a ‘no’ then?”

“I never said no,” she said. “Who said no?”

If not ‘no,’ then what?”

“I said you can’t. Naruto look at me.”

“I’m looking.”

“I’m all frazzled, I’m dirty, I’m sweaty...I stink- I -you can’t!” She exclaimed.

His head tilted in confusion. “But I can, I did.”

“But why now? Why here? I thought...I thought we were fighting.”

“Sparring.”

“Why?” She asked.

“Whyyy...” Naruto said out loud. “I don’t know, I...” His voice spiked “I love you.”

He coughed, clearing his throat. “Is that not a good enough answer?”

She answered with a stare.

“For the record. You’re always beautiful to me, even covered in sweat.”

“I love you, Naruto,” Sakura murmured, her cheeks crimson. “I love you,”

She paused. “But you couldn’t let me shower first?”

Their eyes met, and their breaths aligned. Glances interlocked, freezing time as they sparred again.

With a slow, almost imperceptible nod, Naruto spoke up, “I’m surprised.”

“Surprised?”

“I’m surprised. You’re so surprised that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“I’m not,” she stopped short. Her eyes wandered the room for a moment before a nervous laugh escaped her lips. “OK... maybe....sometimes you wonder, right? You wonder if it’s real.”

One more round. Their eyes locked once again in a fierce embrace.

“It’s real, isn't it?” She said.

“Yeah it is.”

“I never imagined," she said following an audible gulp of air. "Someone would ask me to marry them while I’m sweating in a Gi with my dirty bare feet out.”

Naruto scratched at his cheek, “Alright I accept I got a little carried away with the moment. But it felt right.”

Sakura licked her lips. “I was going to win the fight.”

“The spar?”

“Yeah that...”

“Nah, I would have countered you at the perfect time. Maybe with a spinning dropkick.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah....Probably -Anyway if things started looking bad I’d summon some back up. I know a couple of frogs itching for a good figh-spar.”

Affection poured out from Sakura to the man standing across from her. Her cheeks flushed. She turned her head away from him. A tremor ran through her body. A ripple of emotion coursed along her shoulders. Her lips formed a question. She said nothing, however, as tears welled in her eyes, shimmering like dew drops. Then, a shy smile appeared on her face; it peeked out with caution before blossoming into joy. The dam burst, and the tears cascaded down her cheeks. Her body relaxed as she faced him, her eyes now showing more than affection.

“S-Sakura,” Naruto began, his voice shaky. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to say anything right now. Think about it. Take all the time you need--“

“Shut up,” Sakura whispered, her voice filled with emotion. “Idiot... Why did you do this when you already know my answer?”

Naruto drew in a sharp breath, “Is that a maybe?”

She moved fast, much faster than she had during the spar. She was on him before he could dodge, block, or blink. With a laugh, Sakura threw her arms around Naruto.

“Yes, Naruto. I’ll marry you.”

Naruto pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his arms wrapped around her.

“I know that wasn’t that the most romantic moment Sakura but I promise I’ll be very romantic on our anniversary.”

“On all our anniversaries,” she declared, snuggling deeper into his embrace.

“All our anniversaries,” he corrected.

She rested her head on his chest. His arms embraced her. They swayed across the dojo floor. Their movements were fluid and effortless, as if they had danced together many times.

“Naruto, if someone asks about how you proposed, how will you explain what just happened? “

“She was going to knock me out, so I proposed.

Sakura smothered her laughter into his neck and shoulder. “Sounds about right.”

The end.

If you like the story, please let me know!

#narusaku #sakunaru #naruto sakura #narusaku day #narusaku fanfic #narusakuday2024 #nsday2024 #naruto fanfiction #naruto uzamaki #sakura uzumaki #sakura haruno

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bas-writes · 6 hours

Text

Round 5: The Drink Is on Me

about, rules & navigation | previous round | in some of the routes reader consumes alcohol

The dates are now all proceeding in a promising direction. How the gentlemen will handle the trial of time though? Will they be able to hold your interest with the same intensity towards the end of the dates?

Remember you vote for a character you don't want to advance further! The character with the biggest number of votes will be eliminated.

Higuruma Hiromi

The party headed under the deck earlier than you expected. Insisting on dressing elegantly shattered Hiromi under the merciless sun; even after he took the light jacket off, he kept sweating profusely and you worried he might get a heat stroke.

"I'm sorry, I'm not really fond of summer weather," he said when you proposed moving to a (hopefully colder) different spot, but his voice was full of relief rather than genuine apology.

"Don't sweat it, I could use some shade too."

There's still time for enjoying the sea and the sun, after all, and you would rather savor the strength for the island exploration. Besides, you can't really complain: the under-deck space is even more comfortable and has an exceptionally intimate atmosphere. The lights and music are toned down, everything is soaked in the blue of the sea behind the colossal glass—and most importantly, except for the person behind the bar you're all alone.

Hiromi orders you light cocktails and you choose yourselves a cozy sofa right by the glazed part (according to him, closer to the island you will be passing by a reef—a sight you don't want to miss). You're finally sitting close, your knees almost touching and your shoulders bumping against each other whenever one of you tries to take a turn or lean towards the table. It's a rather tight space but comfortably tight, in a way that melts the remaining, tense ice.

"Do you take all your dates for cruises or is it just a coincidence?" You don't want to poke at a fresh wound, but the topic presses itself into the conversation. And you would rather have it behind it now, when the mood can be easily salvaged.

"Yes and no," he shrugs but keeps that friendly smile, gentle but pushing the corners of his lips enough to reveal his dimples. "The previous one was first and a coincidence. But this I had planned from the very beginning."

"I fell into a trap?" You remember the placement of the ticket on that photo. You suspected it was bait—but a whole meticulous strategy? You wouldn't peg him as someone who puts this kind of logic into dating.

He slightly narrows eyes, giving his smile a sly touch, as he leans against the back of the sofa, one arm casually thrown over it, "Yes and no, again. I wouldn't call it a trap. I would hate to do something illegal, it's against my profession's ethics. And I don't like to trap my dates."

You take a sip of your drink, tossing a few strategies of your own in your mind. A slight buzz of alcohol in your blood lifts your spirit and you can't pretend that the atmosphere hasn't added its dime to certain ideas perking their heads.

"So, what do you like to do with your dates?"

There's a longer break on his side as Hiromi swirls the remains of his mimosa, clearly weighing his words, "This... depends wholly on the character of the date. I'm open minded and I like to try at everything from the buffet before I settle on a certain dish. But if I were to choose here between trapping and being trapped, I would go with the latter."

Nanami Kento

Holding your breath, you untuck the offered bundle. It's a little shell, one of many you saw around, both on the beach and stalls with souvenirs—but its color is unique. It's probably painted over or otherwise embellished but you have to give it to the anonymous artist (who also threaded it with a thin leather thong): they knew how to keep the appropriate balance between their vision and the natural look.

"I found it on a local market the other day." The way Kento glances at you is somewhat shy. Head slightly lowered, he observes you over his glasses, his eyes big, almost doe. "The color reminded me of you. But please, don't feel inclined to accept it."

You decide to keep the bribe. He helps you to tie the bracelet around your wrist—but more than on the new accessory you're focused on his moves. His hands are big, warm and very gentle. He clearly pays attention to not touching you more than necessary but also doesn't shy away when you're catching an additional contact on purpose. It pushes your thoughts into an interesting direction. Would he be as gentle and overly respectful if you agreed for being touched in a less innocent place? How would he act if you initiated something bolder? How would this pleasant and soothing touch against your shoulders, middle, hips?

You're looking for a thread of communication in his eyes when his fingers brush your wrist for the last time—but he averts them and leans back to his side of the table, to the comfortable and appropriate distance.

So, it's still too early for him.

At least the mood doesn't have time to falter; soon your drinks arrive, and they swallow all of the attention. Sweet and decadent, served in hollowed-out pineapples, they please the eye and the camera. You take photos almost at the same time and the thread of communication returns with a shared smile. From word to word, you end up in his gallery, filled to the brim with food and drink pics.

"Is that your friend?" You point at the first person you spot in the roll: a wide-smiling man, posing with the biggest loaf of bread you've ever seen. "The one from the bakery?"

Maybe it's alcohol, maybe it's a perfect choice of topic, but it's like a breaking dam with the way Kento's tongue untangles. Right now, in the bar, under the slowly fading light of the sunset, you learn more about him than through all the hours you spent on texting. You learn about his previous disappointing job. About said friend dragging him out of his lonely life (lonely part not said outright but it's not hard to read between the words). About the first proper vacation he's had since highschool and how badly he refused to go just to love every single moment of his first proper leisure time now.

"Am I your first too?" Having the comment about Tinder at the back of your head, is not hard to draw this conclusion.

"No." Kento's answer is as concrete as always, no shade of embarrassment or hesitation hidden behind the words. "But first in a very long time. I haven't had any dates or casual sexual contact since college."

Ryomen Sukuna

He stayed true to his words however the promised entertainment had less to do with the exhibition and more with his...overwhelming presence.

And it's not because Sukuna is a bad guide. Quite contrary: he must have prepared himself for this with the amount of detailed information he bandies around as he walks you through the gallery. Yet again he leaves you with an impression of a very well-educated person, in addition used to working with speech. If your assumption is wrong and he simply is natural: you can only envy such talent.

No, he's excellent in his role. He's just too distracting.

He keeps close, right on the edge of being a little inappropriate for this stage of a date and your "situationship" and being in public. But he doesn't cross it, just teases and tests your reactions. It's leaning close and over to speak closer to your ear, voice lowered down with courtesy, it's touch brushing against your shoulders, middle, the small of your back, it's the soft vibration behind his words that resonates with the right strings of your body. You wouldn't categorize it as straight up sexual flirting—but he's definitely building a steady ground for it, to strike as soon as you open yourself to it.

You would love to, if only out of curiosity, how far he can go in an art gallery of all places. But it's just more fun to be the prey who requires a meticulous hunt. It might be a weird strategy after the shameless exchange in the chat and very bold pictures you shared but you're both so into it. It would be such a pity to lose all of this thrill for the sake of any easy and fast route.

Sukuna greatly appreciates your attempt to pass as hard to get, seemingly not paying attention to your weak knees and silent gasps you let out when he finds—and remembers—a good spot to touch. He tightens the screws slowly but with precision, bringing you up right to the boiling point but not letting you burst. He's tending to you as if he was a chocolatier tending to his signature exquisite dessert. One that he plans to devour in private.

By the time you're finished with the exhibition and heading for lunch you're not sure if you're hungry for food or something...different.

Following his recommendation, you settle on simple and classic pasta and wine. Light and tasty—perfect to sate the needs for now but leave enough space for another meal later. He doesn't say it outright but it's clear he's predicting the day together will last longer than a meeting for art and lunch.

"Will I finally learn the secret?" You muse over your glass. The wine is not enough to mess your thoughts, but it does loosen your tongue after the teasing tortures you went through.

"The secret?" Sukuna leans against the back of his chair, content with the meal and your presence. He eyes you with a curiosity of a predator assessing if the prey is worth the attack. "There's plenty and a few darker ones. I don't mind sharing, I'll allow one question for now, though."

You meant his profession but now your attention takes a sharp turn. You ask for a darker one.

"Whether it counts as dark depends on your approach to BDSM—" The corners of his lips budge but he doesn't smile openly. "—but I used to be in the community. As a dominant."

Kusakabe Atsuya

Somehow, you end up at his place.

The desserts were exquisite, and the ice cream parlor was an endearing place to be, but it got significantly colder once the storm passed and goosebumps spilled all over Atsuya's arms, indicating he desperately needed a change of fresh and dry clothes. He kept wiggling out of your suggestions and insisted to withstand everything till the end of date, but you set up your mind. You didn't want to get him sick (and possibly ruin the rest of your plans for him).

After a chain of backs and forths, he sheepishly invited you over and led you to his car.

He lives nearby, in the area blending between the suburbs of the town and the countryside, in a big, older house with a huge garden. You're looking around curiously; the place is tidy but undeniably inhabited with the natural disarray breaking here and there, toys thrown all over the corridor and the living room where you're eventually seated, and family photos on the walls and almost every flat surface of the furniture.

"I know what it looks like." Atsuya sighs once he spots you staring straight at the composition over the fireplace. All photos displayed there are of a woman and a child, in a hard to assess age somewhere at the early stage of elementary school. "That's my sister. And my nephew."

Indeed, when you take a closer look, you can spot a strong family resemblance between her and your date. If Atsuya was a woman and smiled as much as she does in every single picture taken, they could convincingly pass as twins. Some of the resemblance passed on the little boy too as he took lots after his mother.

You can't help but wonder how many times Atsuya must have been taken as his father. The divorced dad energy and desperation to not look like one finally finds their explanation.

Atsuya serves you coffee from the machine and cookies, then excuses himself to get changed. You use your extra alone time to run an investigation over the place, nothing too nosy, just a quick scan at things offered on display to any visitor. Some of your pressing questions find their answers—and a few new ones appear, especially in regard to cups and medals in a display cabinet and photos of him with various kids in uniforms you can't pinpoint to any particular sport but associate with Japanese martial arts.

"Ah, those?" You ask him as soon as he's back and he leans over your shoulder to see better what you're pointing at. "I'm a kendo instructor. And those are the fledglings I gathered over the years."

He smiles fondly at the picture you paid special attention to: him posing with a cheerful teenage girl with characteristic, blue-dyed hair.

"You're such a family man without even having one." You tease, curious about his reaction.

"Yeah, tell me about it." He grumbles, running fingers through the hair at the back of his head. "I keep picking up kids but with my luck in dating I don't think I'll ever see one that's truly mine."

"Hey, it can't be that bad, right?"

He gives you a look that's somewhere between tired, embarrassed and 'is it really a topic for a Tinder date?', "Let's say I haven't had a partner for a while now. But I'm not running rusty."

Choso

With adrenaline and excitement running through your veins after the concert you easily overpower poor shy Choso. He seems to be thankful you took the initiative; he's focused on listening, nodding and answering sporadic questions as his body and speech gradually relaxes. His confidence from the scene doesn't return though. He doesn't act like a spooked doe after a while but the submissive and introverted vibe to him doesn't ease even after he's refreshed himself and reapplied the makeup. He clearly is one of those artists who put a strict distinction between the scene and normal life. Even if keeping the scene persona would be beneficial for him.

Choso doesn't make a big mystery out of the fact he's not the most popular guy around. He's aware of his shyness and rather busy life, even admits his profile was made by one of his brothers. He wouldn't find courage on his own—and wouldn't even know what to put in it to make himself presentable.

"I don't know how to talk to others," he says more quietly than usual, his words slurred by the mouth of the bottle he keeps close to his lips. "I either make an idiot out of myself or I scare them off."

Yet, he maintains conversation with you. The shared enthusiasm about the concert is a huge help but he also perks his ears up when you show interest in his family. Your head spins a little when he starts throwing names and photos (he has more of them than money in his wallet), but he doesn't falter when given the initiative and manages to keep your interest. It's endearing how he cares about his big family and how protective he is of them, especially of the youngest of the gang, the one dreaming of college and involuntary (and unknowingly) making Choso work his heart and soul out to earn money for it. There's no doubt he would give away everything to make their lives better. Truly the role model for the oldest son of the family...

"What about you, though?" You nudge once he finally leaves you some space to speak.

He takes a longer break to think over his words, staring into the distance with a look painfully in between longing and emptiness, "They keep telling me this too, you know? Especially Kechizu and Yuji. That I should stop babying them and think about my own life instead."

There's another episode of silence but before you take the reins back, he decides on another addition, "Maybe I scare others off because I am too overprotective of people I care about. It's just a guess, I have never gone any further than the beginning of attachment. Once it starts, they disappear."

You don't know what to say. You would pull him into a comforting hug if not for the concern and respect for his reserved nature. You have no idea how he would react to a spontaneous cut of the distance—and the last thing you want now is to make him feel worse.

"You haven't dated anyone before?" You risk instead.

"I haven't even met anyone from Tinder face to face." He admits and smiles at you. "You're the first. Thank you for this opportunity."

Geto Suguru

How is this man a self-defense instructor instead of a voice actor or a preacher—you have no idea. Unless his trick to break his opponents is talking to them softly before he proceeds slamming them on the ground, that you could believe without hesitation. Suguru's voice is made of wind chimes, rustle of old paper and humming of calm waves. He speaks and you're entranced, thirsty for more even before he finishes a sentence. No wonder you let him take over the conversation. You wouldn't even mind, if he didn't take breaks for your turns.

When you eventually point out the contrast between his profession and presence, he laughs (oh, what a beautiful laughter he has...), "I haven't said that I've never worked in a different field. I do gigs rather than staying at one place. Currently it's only self-defense but I did audio dramas, radio, acting, fitness, bondage classes—"

You almost choke on your coffee, "Pardon?"

His smile now reminds you of the face of a curious cat. Maybe it's only your imagination but you could swear his pupils have dilated a little as he leans forwards, cutting the distance between the two of you—for only a few inches but enough to have you squirming in your seat, "I had my little step into kink. Not as a work, with the little exception of those classes, but it used to be a significant part of my life at that time."

You can't say you're surprised, given the effortlessly dominant aura he's had to him all this time, but you're still a little disconcerted. You haven't expected such a confession during a casual date with a goal of assessing each other before the matters take a more direct route. And in such a calm cafe on top of that! Your intuition has convinced you there's going to be at least one more date, in a more... intimate place.

But maybe you're overthinking. Maybe he mentioned bondage and kink without any particular horny intentions for now. Maybe it's just his voice that made it sound so...sultry.

"You got quite shy." Suguru tilts head to the side, his gaze piercing you inside out. "You've been braver online. Am I making you uncomfortable?"

You shake your head over your salad. No, you're not uncomfortable. Nor shy, "Is it bothering you?"

"Not at all. It has a certain charm to it." His smile sends shivers down your spine and has your hand trembling together with the fork you're holding. "I like shy people. Or when they are acting shy. Breaking those confident into shyness is such a fun thing to do, too."

Something tells you he's done it many times before. Hell, you're sure you've just become a subject of a play of this kind, whether you like it or not.

"You said... That it used to be a significant part of your life." Despite everything you decide to follow this direction. "You lost interest?"

"Not... quite." For the first time his domination falters—but he's quick and smooth to cover it. "I had a break in dating in general due to...certain life circumstances. But now, once I'm back, I'm not opposed to returning to my favorite roots."

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