#i remember seeing some of it when i was younger

[blckbrrybasket]

ᯓ★ 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

MDNI

SFW

- Lesbian (canon)

- Heavy metal is her favorite genre of music.

- Doesn’t have a hand towel in her bathroom. She shakes her hands to dry them and wipes them on her pants.

- Keeps her nails short and hates keeping them painted. She sees it as a waste of time since it chips so frequently.

- Has horrible long term memory but can remember the most random, specific memories or facts.

- Got hit by a motorcycle once and got into a fight with the driver.

- Would have had an emo phase when she was younger without knowing what being emo meant.

- Secretly not so secretly the biggest hater. Does gossip just in her own way of posing things as a fact.

- Hated any type of schooling with a burning passion. Did not do well with the structure it demanded and most likely did not do any schooling after the required amount.

- Snores so loud like a dad and will wake herself up with her own snoring at times.

- Ungodly high tolerance for alcohol…we all see how frequently she drinks.

- Also has an amazing spice tolerance and can eat basically anything. Human vaccum!

- Loves reptiles

- Hates clowns

- Tries to shower often and hates when she’s working for long days without being able to go home to clean.

- She has never done taxes

- When Sevika was younger if she caused something to go wrong she would flee the scene and let someone else take the blame. She isn’t above doing it now.

- Likes being alone. Give her a cigar and some whiskey and she’s set to be alone for the rest of her life. She’s had enough human interaction for one lifetime.

- Honestly bad at handling criticism and tries to rationalize everything she does in her head.

- Gets offended when people incorrectly assume things about her.

- She is completely oblivious to anyone liking her romantically or showing interest in her. She isn’t very conscious of being romantic so it goes over her head if she isn’t actively deciphering if someone is flirting.

SFW (serious)

- Hates hugs but will reluctantly give side hugs to someone very close to her.

- Sevika finds herself blaming Silco some nights and other nights she wants him to come back so she doesn’t have to deal with the chaos Zaun has fallen into.

- She has a love-hate relationship with her parents and ultimately wishes her childhood was better.

- Raised stray dogs on the streets as a kid because she thought of them like her.

- Has insane troubles trying to fall sleep.

- When she does eventually get to sleep she keeps a knife under her pillow. Do not wake her up unless you want to get hurt 😭

- Doesn’t verbally say i love you much. She prefers relationships where you both silently know how much you love each other.

- She can like physical touch at times and seek it out, but she doesn’t like it all the time. Sevika can love deeply, but she doesn’t do well with clingy people.

- She gets overwhelmed pretty easily. Though she doesn’t show it much on her face, it’s easy for her to feel suffocated by lots of things happening.

- She has to get used to cuddling and only cuddles with people she highly trusts where she doesn’t feel as if she is physically trapped.

- Would not be into toxic relationships. She hates situationships where she isn’t secure and/or doesn’t exactly know what she is with someone. Sevika needs something stable or she will not open up.

- Views her childhood self as a completely different person than herself. She mourns the kid who lost their happiness.

- Doesn’t fall in love easily because of the walls she has built up for years.

- Hates receiving help. Hates asking for it even more.

- Was called scrappy when younger and grew up to become ‘a scary lady’. When she’s able to settle down more she realizes how much she hates being stereotyped as this always angry and violent person.

- After becoming a councilor and being alone again years of pain came back. It took her a long time to work through all of it. She could be doing the most random thing and would burst into tears.

- When she hangs out around people she prefers to be in silence.

- Is hard of hearing after the amount of head trauma she has had. By the time she was in her late 50’s she lost complete hearing in one of her ears.

NSFW

- Likes using her strap but prefers feeling you on her skin.

- Loves scissoring, but only does it on special occasions because hit makes her hips ache.

- Likes being bit (are we surprised?)

- Manhandler.

- Loves seeing you drip over her fingers, stretching you out is her favorite part because she always takes her time.

- Is a masochist, not so much a sadist. She sees enough people getting hurt every day by late season two she wouldn’t inflict pain on you in bed.

- Bush!!!! Loves bush, has a bush, wants a jungle.

- Prefers you dressed down. Never complains when you dress up but seeing you in every day clothes, her clothes, or pajamas is her favorite thing.

- It turns her on when you are at equal positions in your relationship instead of one being over the other, but doesn’t mind your subbing or domming more. switch sevika is real.

- PRAISES! Comes up compliments in bed that you didn’t even know she appreciated.

- Loves you dominating her. Giving up all the power she has to constantly hold it turns her brain to mush.

- Every time she is buried between your thighs she will massage them as she gives you head.

- Wears boy shorts underwear and briefs. Keeps them low cut to show her happy trail.

[spiderfunkz]

I'M SORRY, SWEETIE, PLEASE, DON'T GO

pairings. cho hyun-ju x f!reader

cw. heavy angst, death, canon violence, sad themes, the use of y/n once.

author's note: my requests for hyun-ju are still open! also this doesn't really match up to the canon events during the mingle game, but i tried my best to make it make sense. reader is sort of young-mi in this position, lowkey..

everything felt so suffocating recently. aside from the bills that are continuously pilling up, you are thinking about every possible outcome that could happen.

see, you thought you would be dead meat by the first game. but growing up in tough environments helped you to be still, quiet, frozen. you still hid behind someone the entire time though. a very tall, at least from your angle, woman. she seemed very brave, and that was fact checked when she went out to help somebody. she didn't seem much older than you, that was noted in your head.

later on, you would introduce yourself to her. keeping your calm, you kept your posture straight whilst talking to her. she was looking around for a team, everybody was bickering about what this game could be. so far, from your observation, men were keeping to themselves, rejecting the women offering help. even when they are sometimes bigger than them.

"excuse me, um, would you like to team up with me?" you looked at her, she looked really pretty, you noticed how her hair was very well kept, even in situations like this. her name is cho hyun-ju, you will forever remember her name.

after a while, you made it through the game. you two managed to find three more people. a mother with her son, and a very shy girl named young-mi. you all formed a bond since then.

you got to know hyun-ju better. why she was here, why she wanted to continue the games, she opened up, and you reassured her that she was beautiful, twice.

hyun-ju brought a sense of comfort, it made you feel at ease. she was equally as curious with you. you opened up as well. by the end of it, smiles were exchanged, jokes were tossed around, she was nice.

she wanted to go to thailand. it made sense, people were more accepting there than in korea. you knew some places in thailand, well you heard from close neighbors that went there once.

"i know a spot. in thailand. it's a hidden gem, that's what they told me. they say they have the best food. the place is surrounded by cats and they say the atmosphere is great!"

she smiles, "we should go. when this is all over."

"like a date?" you joked, she seemed serious, "yes. like a date."

you knew your chances of surviving was low. but you made the pinky promise anyway.

"hyun-ju!" you yelled, the lights were burning your sight. the platform you were standing on wasn't stable, you already tripped a few times.

you tried looking around, trying to spot anyone you knew. but it felt hopeless for you. the time was ticking, the screen glowed the number 4. unlucky bastard, you whisper.

that's when your hand was grabbed, it was hyun-ju. you felt safe with her touch. she ran towards a door, the mother and son you teamed up with earlier was ahead of her, where was young-mi?

stepping into the door made you feel secure. but it wasn't right, that's when you heard young-mi's voice pleading for help.

"unnie!" the door was closing, you have to think quick.

without much hesitation, you let go of hyun-ju's hand. pushing young-mi into the room just in time. you were out.

your forehead was pressed against the door, the small opening letting you see hyun-ju just one last time. she banged loudly, it was too late however. the timer went out.

you didn't regret what you just did. you knew young-mi wanted to go home more than you, she was younger. you would feel worse if you let her be the one in your position.

"hyun-ju," your voice croaked, the shots were loud.

"y/n!" she was inches away from you. the door blocking what could've been. her eyes seemed glossy, she was on the verge of tears.

"i guess that date to thailand has to wait, yeah?" you give her a sad smile—

thud.

[flipppyflopp]

Still got a long way to go ⚔️

First post of 2025! I wanted to do something bright and cheery to start off the year, so I drew Silver training as a child with Lilia looking after him happily! I included a little scoresheet on the training post as I remembered in Book 7 that Sebek mentioned how Silver beat him most of the time in their spars.

I just finished watching Frieren so this piece was inspired by Stark training when he was younger. Then the colors/background was inspired by the brief moment we see Lilia’s cottage in Book 7, so it’s super bright and cheery. I have some more ideas for young Sebek and Silver, but we shall see what I draw next 👀

[fandomflux33]

Now Feng Xin and Mu Qing understand what the state preceptor said to Xie Lian… “Ascended too early… too early.”

All the things they blamed him for wash away as they see every day and forever how *young* xie lian was when he first shouldered the world.

Feng Xin and Mu Qing got to grow up. They got to build palaces, train, heal some, and prepare themselves for their heavenly tribulations. Xie Lian was taken up by the heavens while he slept.

I imagine that when FX and MQ first team up with Xie Lian after his third ascension, they expect his eyes to look older. But his eyes are the same unwrinkled, world-weary, and self-destructive they’ve always been since he broke his leg falling from the wall. He hadn’t changed himself to be worthy of godhood again, he was still the same: stubbornly insisting on third paths, stubbornly insisting on human kindness and value.

Xie Lian’s myriad scars are disturbing proof that he never got to develop the protective armor of self-love that comes with age. He just keeps taking the cuts.

They remember when he was younger, when the flowers seemed to bend to witness Xie Lian’s joy and peace, and they grieve that boy like a little brother now, instead of as a fallen ideal.

Xie Lian’s joy now is carefully constructed, his peace is born of accepting less than any human deserves.

Then along comes San Lang.

Weeks pass where Xie Lian and San Lang (obviously a vicious ghost supreme) are inseparable, and MQ and FX think that this is it. They didn’t think Xie Lian’s luck could get any worse, but he’s somehow attracted the attention of an evil, all-powerful god-killer. But… Xie Lian starts smiling in a way that makes his eyes crinkle.

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng are close, exchanging casual touches and furtive glances like teenagers on a first date, and Xie Lian’s seriousness slips. XL and HC give each other their communication array passwords and exchange secrets that make Xie Lian’s words sound like an ideal developing into a plan, sound like love turning into action.

Months more pass, and after Xie Lian heals from dethroning Jun Wu, his shoulders get broader. He’s a few centimeters taller too. Xie Lian’s jaw is sturdier and his scars start to suit him.

The change is so gradual that MQ and FX don’t notice until Xie Lian and Hua Cheng’s wedding. Seeing the way each gazes at the other, MQ and FX come to a realization. Xie Lian looks 28 now, and the barest hint of smile wrinkles are starting to form around his eyes.

Hua Cheng looks more powerful than he’s ever been, but FX isn’t protective of Xie Lian anymore, because all of Hua Cheng’s power is the same unshakable love that Xie Lian once kept hidden.

MQ realizes that it wasn’t hard lessons which allowed Xie Lian to grow up, it was joy.

can we talk about how feng xin and mu qing ascended at 25+ but xie lian did at 17. can we talk about how when they next saw each other 800 years later after their fallout feng xin and mu qing looked older, more mature, more grown up than xie lian remembered but when they looked at him he still looked exactly as they remembered. he still looked so young compared to them. they had changed so much. he hadn't. can we talk about that.

[crookedteethed]

ᡣ𐭩 who do you love? . • ° 　 .　 *　: r. cameron

synopsis -- mistress! reader goes bonkers and films a surprise video for Rafe and his wife's anniversary. ۶ৎ

warnings -- 18+-mdni, smut (unprotected p i v), breeding kink, video voyeurism, infidelity, mention of alcohol usage, age gap, cursing, pussy whipped! rafe, homegirl is... yeah

other woman masterlist |taglist | based on this ask | wc: 1.7k

You knew exactly what you were doing when you typed her name into Facebook's search bar. Your fingers moved with purpose, guided by an obsession you couldn't shake.

There it was - Rafe's wife's profile, and right at the top, exactly what you'd been hunting for: a fresh post celebrating their decade of marriage, complete with a photo from their younger days when their love still seemed pure and untainted. You stared at their beaming faces, letting the bitterness wash over you.

Each scroll feels like turning a knife in your own heart, but you can't stop.

Their life unfolds before you like some twisted fairy tale: Rafe teaching their daughter to ride a bike, their annual trips to the Maldives, their matching Christmas sweaters with those damn Dobermans.

And her—always her—wearing that diamond tennis bracelet you once saw in his browser history, claiming the life that should have been yours.

This should be me, the thought burns like acid.

Your fingers hover over a photo of their Mediterranean cruise, her perfectly manicured hand resting on his chest, that massive engagement ring catching the sunset.

She has everything: the weekend brunches at that fancy place downtown, the Range Rover you've seen in their driveway, the three beautiful children with his eyes, the garden parties you watch from afar, and him—God, especially him.

The life that slipped through your fingers because of timing and trust funds. She had everything you didn't: old money, country club connections, and most crucially—age.

While you were still learning to drive, she was already the perfect socialite, the appropriate choice for a man of Rafe's standing. The Seventeen-year age gap between you and Rafe might as well have been an ocean—one that she had already crossed long before you even learned to swim.

Sometimes you wonder if that's what drew him to you in the first place: your youth, your naivety, everything that made you so different from her. Everything that ultimately made you impossible.

Your wine glass is empty again. When did that happen?

A tear escaped your eye as jealousy carved deeper into your chest, the pain spreading until you could barely breathe. Your trembling fingers found your phone, muscle memory still remembering his number after all these years. You knew it was wrong—God, you knew—but you pressed call anyway.

One ring. Two rings. Your heart threatened to burst.

"Hello?" His voice, still so familiar, sent electricity through your body.

"I—" your voice cracked, "I need to see you, Rafe. Please. I can't… I can't stop thinking about you, and I'm so alone tonight. Please come over, I need you."

The silence that followed felt eternal—like light years away, stretching between your world and his, filled with everything unsaid.

You could picture him there, standing in his perfect house with his perfect family just rooms away, probably running his fingers through his hair the way he always did when he was conflicted.

Your heart hammered against your ribs as you heard him move, presumably stepping outside or into his study. Then came that familiar sound—the slow exhale through his nose that you remembered from countless late nights together, when difficult decisions hung in the air between you.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low, rough with something that might have been regret or desire or both: "I'm on my way."

Three simple words that shattered whatever remained of your resolve. You ended the call before he could change his mind, before reality could catch up to either of you, before guilt could claw its way back in.

Your hands shook as you set the phone down, knowing that in fifteen minutes—twenty at most—you'd hear his car in your driveway, and everything would change again.

When he steps through your door, the world narrows to just this: his loosened tie, your trembling hands, the soft thud as his back hits the wall. "We shouldn't," he whispers, even as his fingers dig into your hips, even as he pulls you closer.

You silence his protest with a kiss that tastes like regret and wanting, knowing tomorrow will bring guilt but tonight—tonight belongs to muscle memory and bad decisions.

Your hands roam greedily over each other, ripping clothes away with primal urgency. Your mouths hungrily devour one another, teeth nipping at lips as you guide him to the bedroom. Your heart races with desire and anticipation, knowing what awaits in the heat of passion.

The phone you carefully propped against the lamp earlier blinks silently in the darkness, its camera catching everything. You position him perfectly in its view, letting him think it's just desire guiding your movements.

"God, I've missed you," he breathes against your collar bone, completely unaware that every word, every moan, every mistake is being captured. You almost feel guilty—almost.

Then you think of her Facebook shrine to their perfect marriage, and something shifts inside you—guilt crystallizing into purpose.

Your phone keeps recording in the darkness, anticipating to capture every betrayal, every whispered confession.

Soon, her perfectly filtered life won't matter anymore. Soon, you'll have something far more precious than any photograph: Rafe—cornered, desperate, and finally yours.

Without hesitation, you shoved Rafe onto your queen size bed. Straddling his naked body, you disregarded any notion of foreplay.

As much as you craved the feeling of his tongue on your clit or his thick fingers probing you, all that mattered was having Rafe's cock buried in your cunt.

"Damn, you weren't kidding. You really do need me," Rafe smirked as his palm immediately found its way to your dripping core, but to your dismay was swatted away.

With a seductive grin, cooed in your sweet, high-pitched voice that made Rafe's brain mush. "Un huh, now be a good boy and let me take care of myself," you purred, guiding his rock-hard cock to the entrance of your wetness.

"Are you going to let me do that?" Your tone was condescending, but it only fueled the intense desire between you both, and because Rafe's mind turned to mush the moment you said you needed him, he nodded, totally pussy whipped and enamored by you.

The sharp gasp that escaped both of your lips was matched only by the intensity of your desire.

Slowly, you sank down onto Rafe's throbbing cock, savoring the feeling of him stretching you just as he always did.

"You're so tight, baby," he groaned out, his voice dripping with lust.

As you remembered the phone set up hidden by your side table lamp, a mischievous thought crossed your mind:

"Am I tighter than your wife?" you asked, already beginning to rock your hips on his length. Naturally, Rafe's hands found their way to your waist, not to guide you but to bring you closer to his lips.

"So much tighter, shit," he breathed out between hot kisses, with each agonizing slow rock.

"You're gonna leave her for me, huh?" you asked, face to face with Rafe, cradling his jaw to peck his lips. Slowly, you began to pick up the pace. 

Your rhythmic movements escalate into frenzied bouncing, his hard length molding perfectly to your slick walls, stretching you to the limit. You lift yourself up and press down on Rafe's chest for leverage, driving him deeper and harder into you

Rafe's eyes rolled back as you bounced harder, your pussy gripping him like a vice. "Fuck, I… I don't know," he groaned, his hips bucking up to meet your thrusts.

You leaned down, your breasts brushing against his chest as you whispered in his ear, "Come on, baby. Tell me you'll leave her. Tell me I'm the only one you want." Your walls clenched around him for emphasis, drawing a strangled moan from his lips.

"God, yes," Rafe panted, completely lost in the sensation of your tight heat enveloping him. "I'll leave her. You're all I want, fuck!"

Hearing those words sent a thrill through you. You began to bounce faster, slamming yourself down onto his thick cock with abandon. Your breasts bounced enticingly and Rafe reached up to cup them, pinching your nipples between his fingers.

"Say it again," you demanded breathlessly, grinding your hips in circles. "Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours, baby," Rafe panted, thrusting up to meet your movements. "All fucking yours."

You leaned down to capture his lips in a searing kiss, your tongue tangling with his as you continued to ride him relentlessly. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with your shared moans of pleasure.

"Gonna cum for me?" you asked, clenching your walls around him. "Gonna fill me up? Gonna give me one of your babies?"

"Yeah, gonna stuff your sweet pussy with my hot load, fuck, I'm about to explode," Rafe moaned, his nails digging into your flesh, leaving red marks on your hips.

You reached down to rub tight circles on your clit, chasing your own release. "Me too, don't stop," you gasped.

With a few more forceful thrusts, you both toppled over the brink together, moaning in bliss as powerful waves of pleasure engulfed you. Rafe followed suit, releasing his hot and sticky load inside you, filling you up completely.

The afterglow lasts exactly thirty seconds before Rafe is already reaching for his clothes, his movements quick and efficient like this is just another business meeting wrapping up, breathing hasn't even steadied.

"I need to get back," he says, checking his watch. "We have dinner reservations at La Maison."

"Of course. The anniversary dinner." Your voice sounds hollow even to your own ears. "Rafe?" He pauses, shirt half-buttoned. "Did you mean any of it? What you said while we were…?"

He crosses the room, cups your face, and plants a soft kiss on your lips—the kind that feels like goodbye. Then he's gone, the front door clicking shut behind him.

You sit in the twisted sheets, his warmth already fading, listening to his car fade into the distance. Your hands shake as you reach for your phone and stop the recording. The email address you've had memorized for months appears in the recipient field without hesitation. You attach the video—forty-three minutes of undeniable truth—and watch the upload bar creep forward. In the subject line, you type five words that will demolish their perfect life: "Happy Anniversary, From Us Both."

Your finger hovers over 'send' for just a heartbeat before pressing down. Let her enjoy those reservation plans now.

Now he'll have to choose, you think, watching the loading bar reach 100%. And this time, he'll choose me.

a/n -- thanks for making it to the end, as always all likes comments, and reblogs keeps me motivated! 💕🫶🏾

taglist --

@rafestoothbrush @alexxavicry @trapistani @Hejsj @neslayuh @hotvampdragon @alyisdead @jelybely @elmolovesw33d @littlelamy @futuremrscameron @percysley @rrafeswhore

[demonic0angel]

Just saw your phantom family in uniform art (looks as majestic as usual) can we have some wraith x nightwing?? Just them flirting and kicking ass together <33

(Hell yeah >:D Glad you enjoy it!)

Wraith hummed cheerfully as he sat on the edge of the roof overlooking the alley where Nightwing was pummeling some gang members. He seemed to be in a bad mood with how curt his one-liners were, but he was still ridiculously flamboyant as he flipped and somersaulted to beat people up.

Yes, it would be a good day today.

When he noticed Wraith, he paused before calling out in a snappy tone, “Are you going to sit there all night? Or come down and give me a hand?”

Wraith smirked. Their relationship used to be frosty, with Wraith uncharacteristically reaching out over and over to poke at Nightwing’s buttons, but now it seemed amicable. Sometimes, Nightwing stared at him with an unreadable look that Wraith didn’t know how to react to, but over all, he had fun when he was around him.

“Ohh? Well, what are you going to give me in exchange, little hero? My help isn’t cheap.”

That indecipherable look was back on Nightwing’s face before he said, “I’ll buy you dinner at the new restaurant on XXX street.”

“Hmm… deal.” Wraith did not ask for much. If anyone else asked for his help, he would’ve refused or probably extorted every single penny in their bank accounts before even considering the ask, but Nightwing was not just anybody and he was so pleasant to be around that even when he used to try to drive him away in the beginning, he had still stayed.

Wraith dropped down and blasted an opponent with a weak ray to slam them against the wall. Realizing that Nightwing had a helper, the gang members burst into a run and escaped.

Nightwing watched them as he caught his breath and Wraith turned to look at him. “So? Shall we follow them?”

“Yeah. You can sense them right? And lead us to them?”

Wraith nodded with a sharp smile and Nightwing grinned at him. It made him feel pleasant. In this world full of disgusting humans, only Nightwing and his sisters were people who he liked. (The rating on his brother/younger self was still pending.)

They waited for a few moments, tying up the knocked down criminals for the police to find before Nightwing looked at Wraith with an easy smile. “Ready to sniff ‘em out?”

“Hmph. This’ll be easy. You could’ve brought out a nose-blind cat and they’d still be able to find them in an instant,” Wraith said with a sigh, thinking of the smell of the criminals.

Nightwing laughed though, so all was well.

Wraith then went off to find the escapees. The scent of their souls were uninteresting, unappealing, and even disgusting in their blandness. Their general smell was just nasty. Wraith, however, disliked disappointing Nightwing and so he persisted and led them right to the criminal’s hideout.

“No killing,” Nightwing said absentmindedly, as he took out his escrima sticks. They crackled with energy, lighting up the blue that lined Nightwing’s suit.

Wraith huffed. “Fine. You’re boring.”

“Ohh? If I’m so boring, then let’s make a bet. If I defeat more people than you, then you’ll pay for dessert, alright?” Nightwing smirked. “And I get to order double.”

Wraith perked up with the incentive. “You can’t beat me,” he said, but Nightwing was rarely so playful with him. He seemed to be in a good mood now. “I’ll win.”

“We’ll see,” Nightwing said pleasantly, and then they both kicked down the doors, startling the gang members.

“Crap! It’s Nightwing and Wraith!”

Wraith frowned for a moment, wondering why they seemed to fit together too well, but Nightwing threw himself into the fray and Wraith was quick to follow with a feral grin.

Fighting side by side with Nightwing was an amazing experience. Wraith loved it. It felt better than being alone with only Fright Knight by his side, killing whoever he wanted and terrorizing the masses just because he could. With Nightwing, it was easier to remember how he used to be a hero.

Wraith’s eyes caught the bright blue that flashed out of the corner of his vision, and for a moment, he couldn’t help but think that his sisters would’ve been proud of him for finding such a kind, gentle, and powerful soul.

Yes, it would be another good night with Nightwing.

[melodyanqel]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄 ── ★ h.jh. (002. only you)

love at first sight happens between the police officer and a bright, innocent woman. they shared a deep connection that meant they needed each other more than anything, even when they experienced the same nightmare.

⤷ pairing: hwang jun-ho x fem!oc

⤷ genre/tags: fluff, angst, thriller, psychological drama, established relationship, team bonding, financial issues, games, action, betrayal, foreigner!soft!oc, protective!junho

⤷ warnings: smut! mention of masturbation

⤷ wc: 4.1k words

⤷ note: ahh this is my first time writing +18 parts and i hope it is decent enough lol. also i hit 200 followers! as a thank you here is a longer chapter ♡

⤷ melodyanqel taglist: @hwallazia @rubyredish @analysisiinternet @ilovebtsomgie

“I’m glad you are doing better. You look pretty with a smile.” 

Tough men can be soft, and that's no shame. Lily looks at Jun-ho with endearment. His ethereal side profile is straight out of a romance manhwa. She can admire for hours and never get tired. 

Jun-ho then stops at a red light and cranes his neck to look at Lily. His brawny hand takes her small, delicate one. “Even when I become mopy for no reason.” He draws a grin and she giggles with blushing cheeks. In response to his question, “Yes. I haven’t gotten sick of it.” She tightens her grip. Jun-ho raises Lily's hand to kiss her knuckles like a real prince. 

About another ten minutes, the couple arrived at Mrs. Hwang’s apartment. Jun-ho still lives with his mother and it’s common for people in this country to live with your loved ones, despite your age. Lily didn’t find it strange because she would’ve done the same if she couldn’t afford to move out. Plus, it’s great that Jun-ho is willing to care for his mother. 

He mentioned In-ho but never told Lily about what happened in 2021 or his sudden disappearance. However, Jun-ho did give stories about his brother before everything. They were all moments when they were kids. Even though they’re half-brothers, they bonded quickly like blood-related brothers. And there are times when Jun-ho misses the old In-ho. 

After ringing the doorbell, an elderly woman opens it for her son and his girlfriend. 

Lily smiles in delight. “Omonim!” She opens her arms and Mrs. Hwang doesn’t miss a second for a hug. “My dear! You’re beautiful as always!” She caresses the back of the younger woman’s head. “Thank you, omonim.” Lily thanked her. 

As they parted, Mrs. Hwang moved her attention to Jun-ho. He goes into her arms. “Hi, omma. Thank you for the birthday wishes.” He has to bend down to embrace his tiny yet remarkable mother. She tells him, “Of course. You’re my child and I’m not too old to not remember.” Mrs. Hwang is still healthy for a woman in her sixties. 

Her quips never fail to make the couple laugh. She does have some wit. 

Shortly, everyone gets inside the apartment. Like a magnet, Lily zooms into the kitchen and sees the delicious home-cooked food in containers. It’s also good because she doesn’t need to make or buy meals for the rest of the week. Jun-ho is also mesmerized by his mother’s cooking. 

“Wow, you outdid yourself, omma.” He commented. She pats his left arm and states. “Whenever it’s your birthday, I’ll spoil you.” Mrs. Hwang will continue to make him feel like he is the best in the world. Jun-ho chuckles and gathers the containers in the tote bag on the island. “I’ll let you know whenever I’ll be home.” He didn’t need to tell his mother because she knew he’d return. But he is still afraid of her scolding. 

“Okay. Enjoy your birthday, honey.” Mrs. Hwang kisses Jun-ho’s cheek. Lily watches the moment happen and it warms her heart. Then she felt something. “Let me go use the bathroom first before we leave.” She drank four bottles of water today. It’s summer and scorching hot. Lily scurries to the bathroom like a mouse. 

When she leaves the kitchen, it’s the mother and son together. Mrs. Hwang instantly asked Jun-ho. “Have you asked her yet?” She is eager to know if their family will grow bigger. Jun-ho sighs and shakes his head. “No, not yet. I wanted to do it on our second anniversary, but I wasn’t sure if her family would accept me. Especially her parents. I barely asked them last week and they welcomed me.” He confessed to his mother about his self-doubt.

She gives him a hopeful look. “Don’t be scared. I love Lily so much that I don’t want any other woman for you. If you do it tonight, call me.” Mrs. Hwang hugs her son and he takes it because he needs to calm his nerves. 

The sound of footsteps approaches them. Lily sees them hugging and she patiently waits for them. Jun-ho feels her gaze and he breaks away from his mom. He makes eye contact with his beautiful angel. “Ready?” He questions and Lily nods her head. 

Once again, she thanks Mrs. Hwang for the food. The couple said goodbye to her and can now have their little party. Jun-ho holds Lily’s hand as they head back to the vehicle. He takes deep breaths because he doesn’t expect to be nervous. Lily notices his touch is getting clammy. She reads Jun-ho’s body language and it concerns her. 

“Are you okay?” The petite woman inquired the tall policeman. 

He answers in short, “I’m good. I’m a bit exhausted but I have enough energy.” Thankfully, Lily comprehends and goes with the flow. Jun-ho is becoming a wreck, internally. It’s worse than his first day on the job. 

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ

After a quick stop, it’s a relief to be back in the comforts of your home. 

Once Jun-ho enters Lily’s place, he sees the decorations in the small living room. A gleeful smile plays on his face when he reads a sign on the ceiling, above the coffee table. It says, “Happy Birthday Darling.” 

He also spotted colorful balloons on the floor, table, and couch. But the most prominent is the big Pochacco balloon sitting by the patio door because Jun-ho reminds Lily of the adorable Sanrio dog. Jun-ho closes and locks the door. He embraces his woman from the back to sprinkle kisses on her neck. He has been waiting all day to have intimacy. 

The man hears the beauty squealing from the affection. “I take it that you love my decorations!” She was taken advantage of by his hug attack. The only side of Jun-ho that no one will ever see, except for Lily. He presses one last kiss on her neck. “You did amazing. Let’s start our night.” Jun-ho will appreciate Lily until his last breath. 

He separates from her and excuses himself to put his backpack in her room. Jun-ho packed clothes, hygiene supplies, and a spare key to Lily’s apartment, in case she gets locked out or whenever he comes by. He unzips the front pocket to grab an item—a little box. 

Jun-ho knows he can’t be a coward because he promises his mother and her family that he’ll take their relationship to another level. He breathes in and out to ease the tension. Jun-ho puts the little box in his pocket and goes to his girlfriend. 

He leaves the room and witnesses Lily placing a heart-shaped vanilla cream cake on the dining table. It has “Happy Birthday Jun-ho” written in icing and hangul. She adds the candles and lights the wicks. Jun-ho is thirty-three. Whenever people turn thirty, they sometimes get worried because of aging anxiety. But Jun-ho is grateful to continue living. He fought for his life to wake up from a coma. 

Jun-ho walks over to Lily. She hears his footsteps and perks her head. An ecstatic smile rises on her lips. Lily sings him “Happy Birthday” in Korean and Jun-ho smiles ear to ear. 

“Happy birthday to Hwang Jun-ho! Happy birthday to you!”

Lily claps her hands cheerily when he blows out the candles. “Picture time! Go sit by your cake!” She runs to the island and takes her phone out of her purse. Jun-ho grins merrily and he obliges his lover’s demand. She comes back to snap hundreds of pictures. Lily once thought Jun-ho should sign up for modeling because his beauty is magnificent. She sometimes wonders how she got so lucky. 

They do look like the perfect couple—almost too perfect. 

“Are you done?” Jun-ho has been posing for a minute and getting a bit tired. Lily responds, “I’m done!” She sets down her phone on the table. It probably has no storage left. 

Out of the blue, her boyfriend asked her. “Should I tell you what I wished for?” 

Lily gives him a staggered expression. “No! It won’t come true!” She believes in the saying and he shouldn’t ruin it. 

Jun-ho then pulls out the chair to stand up. “My love. I do want to tell you something, though.” He gets her full attention. Lily watches him come to her. Sure. What is it?” she asked calmly, having no clue. Jun-ho purses his lips and takes both her hands into his. Courage—he truly needs it, and can’t turn back now. Jun-ho begins to expound. 

“You are the only woman in my life. I was hesitant to do this, but I realized you mean so much to me that I don’t see anyone else to make me feel alive and know what love is. I took the time to think about it with my omma and your parents about what I want my future to be like. I hope it gets fulfilled once I ask you a question.” 

His warm brown eyes are on hers and without looking away, he lets go of her hands. Jun-ho is down on one knee and pulls the small box out of his pocket. He hears Lily gasp and her chocolate brown orbs are glassy. She has tears welling. Jun-ho opens the box to reveal a silver ring with a circle diamond. “Will you be my wife, Lilymae Reed?” He finally asked the question. 

Lily nods her head earnestly as tears fall from her eyes. “Yes! Yes, Hwang Jun-ho!” She sobs her words. Jun-ho’s lips crack a big smile and he gingerly puts on the stunning jewelry on her left ring finger. He stands on his feet to gather a crying Lily into a big bear hug.  

“Oh, I have a gift from Bo-young!” She remembers the drawing. They parted and Lily took out the paper from her purse. She hands it to Jun-ho and he is truly fascinated. “Wow. She is wonderful. Tell her that I love it.” He kindly compliments the little girl’s artwork. Jun-ho believes and so does Lily, Bo-young has a crush on him, but it’s overall cute. 

His birthday will forever be his favorite day from now on. 

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ

“So, is that why you’ve been acting weird?” 

Lily knew something was up with Jun-ho, but she didn’t question it. She slurps on the jjajangmyeon that his mother cooked. It’s like heaven in her mouth. Jun-ho is eating the same thing with dumplings. 

The silence breaks when he puts down his chopsticks and clarifies to Lily. “It did take me months to build the courage. So, around last week, I managed to talk to your parents and my broken English somehow made them understand that I need their blessings. I then earned it. I also told my omma and she was exhilarated because she wanted you and your family to join us, which I should tell her soon.” He must not break his mother’s promise. 

Jun-ho sees Lily crying again while chewing on her noodles. He couldn’t contain his laughter. His fiancé is too precious. Jun-ho reaches over to grab her left hand. His thumb brushes the ring on her finger. Lily finishes chewing and wipes off the tears with her right hand. 

She tells Jun-ho her thoughts. “I wished my family was here. I must thank them for letting you marry me because I am so grateful they accepted you. Also, your omma. I love her with my life,” Lily pauses and continues, “I’m looking forward to being her daughter-in-law.” That sounds odd but she’ll get used to it. Jun-ho holds her hand firmly. “I too wished your family was here. However, one day they’ll come visit South Korea.” He reassured Lily. 

“Yes, one day.” Her voice trails like an echo. 

To lighten the mood, Jun-ho suggests finishing dinner because he does want dessert. He has a sweet tooth just like his fiancé. Bumping into the bakery was either a coincidence or destiny. 

After devouring the delicious jjajangmyeon and dumplings, they had enough space for the vanilla cream cake. Jun-ho takes a piece with a fork and eats it. His dark brown eyes widen. “Wow! You did amazing!” He compliments Lily’s homebaked dessert. She smiles gaily at his cute reaction. “Thank you! You can have more whenever you want.” Lily learned culinary when she first started living by herself because she knows she’ll need it in the future. 

Her gaze lands on Jun-ho lips. She snickers and wipes off the cream with her thumb. “Don’t be a slob. I want to marry someone with manners.” Lily said in jest but she did mean it. Jun-ho then teases her by licking her thumb. She jolts and pulls away. “Yah! Don’t do that!” Lily glares at him with rosy cheeks. His eyes darken at the shy look she is giving him. Since when did Jun-ho become so seductive? Lily snatches the plate from him. “No more cake for you!” She chides and sets down the cake on the island. 

Jun-ho chuckles huskily and wraps his arms around her petite waist. She has her back against his broad chest. His cleaned lips are close to her ear. “I love you, my Lily.” He spoke in a much deeper and elegant voice. The shy woman slowly puts her arms over his and turns her neck to look up at him. Lily is staring at Jun-ho's strong, needy gaze. “I love you too.” She admits wholeheartedly. 

The man and woman move forward, touching their lips into a delightful kiss. 

In the end, they ate more of the cake because Jun-ho wanted it before going to bed. 

Midnight arrives, which means time to wash up and rest. Well, not for Lily. She is engaged and wants to do something more romantic and sensual. Indeed, Lily is the type to wait because she never experienced a serious relationship. She had a few boyfriends, but they didn’t consider her much. Jun-ho is different. He gives Lily consent and respects her. It’s also one of the many reasons she agrees to date him. 

Lily is in the bathroom while Jun-ho lies on the bed, scrolling through his phone. She looks at herself in the mirror and she is nervous. Lily wears a white babydoll slip dress. It’s see-through so her stomach and underwear are shown. Her brunette hair has no bows and her makeup is retouched. After deep breaths, Lily leaves the bathroom and sheepishly goes to Jun-ho.

He hears the door creaking, and instantly, he feels something and puts his phone on the nightstand. The love of his life is dressed all pretty and sultry. Lust begins to take over him. 

Jun-ho sees how shy Lily is when she steps closer to him. She reaches the bed and crawls to him like a vixen. It’s the first time Jun-ho is thrilled and fully aroused by a woman. Lily has the effect. He also had touched himself while thinking of her. She has the body of a goddess and her dulcet voice does things to him. Plus, her shyness makes him want to ravish her. 

Lily’s soft breasts sway when she goes to Jun-ho and he can see her folds being covered by a lace underwear. Her innocent yet lustful brown orbs and blushing cheeks are making him hard. Lily straddles his waist and her hands press Jun-ho’s chest. She feels a bit tingly from his strong gaze. His hands hold her perfectly curved waist. 

“Are you sure?” Jun-ho asked in a husky yet tender voice.

To his surprise, Lily nodded. “Yes. I want you.” She confessed to her future husband. A squeak lets out of her mouth when Jun-ho flips her. Now he is on top. His lips passionately kiss her plump rosy ones. Lily’s breath hitches when he forcefully sticks his tongue into her mouth. She wraps her arms around Jun-ho's neck to deepen it. Her tongue timidly licks his and he releases a dark chuckle.

Jun-ho pulls away with a sly smirk. “You look exquisite, my love. I didn’t expect you to dress like a slut for my birthday.” His filthy yet affectionate words have Lily covering her face with her hands and legs tightening around Jun-ho’s hips. Not to mention, her panty is no longer dry. 

“It’s embarrassing when you speak like that.” She has to get used to Jun-ho’s praises. She listens to the sound of him removing his shirt. He hovers into Lily’s space to remove her hands. Jun-ho’s smirk turns into a cordial smile. “Don’t worry, my love. I’ll be gentle.” He gives Lily’s hands kisses.

They take it slow, finding new places to kiss, lick, taste, and bite. Once taking off her babydoll and underwear, Jun-ho appreciates her goddess-like body creatively, using his hands, mouth, and tongue. His lips move to her cleavage. Lily does the same to him. She runs her hands over his muscular body with sculpted abs and pecs. Her hands stopped at his sweats. She grips the hemline and looks at Jun-ho.

He lifts his eyes, “Yes, you may.” He says in a low voice. 

Now they’re both naked. Jun-ho sits up and pulls Lily onto his lap. She takes the time to admire him as if she hasn’t done that before. However, she has discovered beauty in her man. She gasps when she feels his cock, rises big against her ass. Lily feels her folds getting wetter because Jun-ho is undeniably beautiful. 

“Jun-ho!” She cried out his name when his mouth immediately sought an erected nipple, sucking greedily. 

He has been waiting to taste these adorable buds. 

Lily then moans loudly from his fingers touching her pearl. Jun-ho releases her nipple and speaks into her ear. “You’re so sensitive. I hope you can handle my cock.” He groans and continues to rub Lily’s twitching folds. She becomes a mess when his index and middle fingers slide inside. Her squeals and gasps are airy and high-pitched like a mellifluous melody. Jun-ho can feel her holding his shoulder roughly from the euphoria. His fingers move intensely. 

“I-I feel something. I-I d-don’t know.” Lily stutters as pleasure fills in her stomach. 

Jun-ho demands, “Cum. Cum, angel.” 

She does what he says. A loud, delicious moan escapes from her mouth. She can feel a cream substance explode from her cunt and onto Jun-ho’s fingers and abs. Overstimulated, Lily hugs him by wrapping her arms underneath his biceps to feel his sturdy back. Jun-ho gives her a moment to recover because she is twitching. His clean hand rubs her back. 

“Again, are you sure? I don’t have protection.” He is being cautious. Lily makes an effort to respond to him. “Yes, I’m ready. And I do have them in my nightstand drawer. Don’t ask.” Her cheeks burned and she felt his chest move up and down because he was laughing. 

Lily moves off of him as Jun-ho takes one condom and tears it open to put it on. He gently lays his woman on the bed and goes on top. “You can scratch and bite me if it’s too much,” Jun-ho reassures Lily, even though he’ll enjoy a bit of pain. 

A joyful smile graces her face. “Okay.” She is officially letting him have her body. 

Lily locks her legs behind his back, angling herself as he pushes through, inch by inch. She gasps, throwing her head back and whimpering in delight. Jun-ho moves with purpose, reveling in her as he gives her every bit of himself and listens to her gasps turn into throaty moans. Lily shudders against him, and he picks up her hips so he can hit that one place that’ll drive her wild. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re so fucking perfect.” Jun-ho is proud to worship what’s his endlessly. 

Her walls close around Jun-ho and he grips the sheets. Lily kisses his temple, crying against his shoulder as she reaches the cusp and orgasms. 

The lovers spent the night intertwined underneath the full moon. 

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ

Golden rays of the sun ascended from the horizon. It’s the next morning and everywhere is quiet. 

Lily dug into Jun-ho’s chest, wrapping her like a blanket with his athletic arms. The sun begins to beam through the curtains. She grimaces when light shines on her to wake her up. Her chocolate brown eyes blinked open and she first noticed her sleeping fiancé. He looks so peaceful and cute. Not like last night. 

“You can take a picture, it’ll last forever.” 

Jun-ho’s deep, drowsy voice scares Lily. His eyes are still closed. She pouts, “I wasn’t looking.” A failed excuse that made him laugh in contentment. 

He opens those warm brown irises that she loves. Jun-ho plays a grin. “Good morning. Do you have any plans for today?” He asked and brushed her luscious brunette strands out of her face. Lily replied, “Yes. I’m having a girl’s day with So-eun. I forgot to mention she bought that dress for me and the condom.” A blush blooms her fair cheeks. Jun-ho laughs at her bashful expression. 

“Tell So-eun that I said thank you.” He receives a light smack from Lily. His outgoing fiancé gets extremely shy about intimacy or sex. It also makes Jun-ho fall for her more because she is so pure-hearted. 

Lily lets out a breath. “I need to get ready or she’ll blow up my phone.” She knows So-eun hates waiting and it’s understandable. Jun-ho buries his face into her face and whines. “Why must you go?” He sounds like an upset child. Lily didn’t think the almighty Jun-ho would be so clingy. 

“Don’t you have work, mister?” She giggles when he groans in annoyance. His grumpy side is amusing to her because he knows his chief will yell at him if he doesn’t show up. That man has no patience and is forever cranky.

It’s also the weekend, but Jun-ho picked up a shift to earn extra. The next day, he’ll go sailing, which he’d been doing since June, and can’t find the island where the game took place. “I take that as yes.” Lily does a little nudge but Jun-ho has no complaint. He feels her delicate fingers brushing his dark locks. If only he could stay like this for eternity.

No nightmares, no worries, and no complications. 

“I’m sure you’ll do great. If you need to vent, you can always come to me.” Lily has no problem being Jun-ho’s leaning shoulder because, in their future marriage, they need to express themselves. Communication has improved for them, but Jun-ho will not tell his mother and Lily the truth about In-ho and the sinister game that lures people to their deaths. 

The man lifts his head from his love's hair to kiss her swollen lips. “Thank you. And you stay safe.” He gives her a direct reminder with love and care. Lily nods, “Of course. The same goes for you.” She hugs his neck and lays a little kiss on the side of her darling’s cheek. 

Afterward, Jun-ho is freshened up and puts on his uniform. He looks like he is getting ready for school, which is what Lily once commented and he does. 

Jun-ho stands in front of her full-length mirror to tie his tie. When he was a detective it was different. He wore regular clothes, a badge, and a gun holster. It was nice but he isn’t positive about going back. Guess road safety suits him better. 

Eventually, Jun-ho goes to the kitchen where he notices Lily is laying out breakfast dishes and two mugs on the table. She wears a plain white shirt, a jean skirt, and frilly socks. Her long brunette hair is up in a high ponytail. The sight makes his heart full because he gets to wake up to his beautiful angel every day in the future. 

Jun-ho approaches Lily and brings his left arm around her waist. “Good morning. The food looks divine.” His eyes land on the two avocado toast with over medium eggs. Lily smiles, “I used to eat these when I lived in America. It’s like comfort food for me.” She would share Jun-ho her childhood meals and it impresses him how tasty they are. 

“Well, I’ll be enjoying it.” He pecks her cheek as a thank you and sits down to devour the toast. Lily joins him and pushes a mug of black coffee into the center. “For you because you need your energy.” She figures he’ll have a long day. Jun-ho grins mirthfully because Lily knows him too well. 

He almost forgot to tell her something when it hit him. Jun-ho says, “My birthday wish is to marry the love of my life and it came true.” He sees Lily blushing with a big smile. She coos, “Aww. I’m glad that it’s happening. Also, tell omonim about it.” He did keep a promise and he shall commit. 

Jun-ho responds, “Of course. You know how my omma is. She had been waiting for it when I first entered my adulthood.” 

Lily laughs blithely because Mrs. Hwang can be a little nosy.

series masterlist | three

[hcneymooners]

⋆ and i came looking for you.

synopsis: knight!f!characters x fem!reader. men & minors dni.

characters: ambessa, sevika, vi, abby anderson, ellie williams, grayson. 

cw: apocalypse au!, princess!reader, older woman/younger woman, age difference, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, reunion sex, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, obsession, pining, forbidden love, protective!reader, protective!knight!characters, vague fantasy nonsense, devotion. this is a drabble.

notes: trying something new. let me know what you think. also i full on was inspired by @s-4pphics + her incredible arranged marriage ellie piece. my head was spinning for hours after reading it. i lowkey am dreaming of it.

the world descends into apocalypse on a sunday morning. you were with her when it happened, laughing with your head tipped back, your eyes crinkling into a scatter of lines. she doesn’t remember what you were saying—if it was a joke, a story, or some terrible card game she kept letting you win.

all she remembers is the wall exploding, a bright flash of white, then red. blood seeping through cracks like light. your scream as the floor fell, the sound of her ribs snapping like children’s bones as she flung herself toward you—only to miss your hand by inches. the castle crumbled, and you were torn away.

a bioweapon, someone at a makeshift shelter tells her later. all she knows is this: she must get back to you.

the world is a wasteland now, and her princess is without her protection. it’s not that you can’t protect yourself—it’s that she is nothing without protecting you.

the shelter is crowded with weeping and the shaky scaffolding of survival. most stare out of the tents with a distant gaze that she understands all too well. she spends her nights clawing through maps and fragments of rumors, breasts heaving against the thin cotton of her nightshirt as she attempts to plot a way back to you. if you are still—no. 

you must be.

they will not let her leave. they speak of safety, of waiting. but she dreams of you. you, in your sheer shift, soft breasts rising and falling with your breath. you, your pouted mouth trembling as you cry, your heavy hips. you, shaking in the throes of nightmares she longs to dispel. and now! look! there she is in this lavish dream.

she dreams of holding your hand, of your body yielding to her touch. of your lips, wet and pliant against hers in a kiss she swore never to speak of again, though now she wishes she had. there you are—the two of you together pressed tightly as you writhe and twist against her fingers her mouth her—

she wakes screaming, the sound feral and raw. she cannot find you. she doesn’t know if you are safe. she begs the gods for mercy, for time, for you to understand why she is late.

they will not let her leave, so she practices for the leaving. she holds water in her mouth until her throat spasms and she spits it up, thick with bile. she practices not breathing. she is preparing her body to endure, for you.

one night, she slips into the lake. the water is black, the moon fractured across its surface. she swims across borders, feet blistered and bloody as she crosses moors and barren landscapes. the world is broken, but her princess is wandering somewhere within it. she hears the wail of a dragon, sees the light of the world’s final stars. your name becomes her mantra, whispered like a prayer. like a long, dizzying spell. 

the nights are long and sharp-edged, predators stalking her shadow. her sword is strapped against her, the weight echoing the feel of your body on her back though it is devoid of your warmth. devoid of the undoing vibration of your laugh.

the woods now. by day, she climbs hills and twists through ancient roots. she remembers your veins, fine as threads beneath your skin, when you were upset with her. sometimes they would just out like birds, overextended. your mouth sharp, your words sharper, but she would press you to her lap and hold you until you softened. she would kiss you until you melted into her arms, your anger spilling away like water over stone.

when she lay with you, it was much like breaking into the earth’s molten core. you were so warm, so forgiving. she remembers your cries, high and breathless, as she brought you to your peak with her hands, her mouth, with toys she had never known before you.

her head swims now, fevered and blurred. she cannot stop. she feels you, a buzzing in her chest. your life runs through her, like a tunnel of bees. they are buzzing, they are a beating against her brain. 

you are close; she knows this. she does not know what is real now, what is simply her hallucinations attempting to keep her comfort. she woke with her lips pressed to the gnarled bark of a tree, believing it to be your skin. she wept in her solitude.

but there—a cave. she digs and claws at its walls, sobbing when nothing yields. she considers the blade at her side, the gods above, but the buzzing grows louder. you are here. you must be. please let her in please let her please let her in please let her in.

she carves through stone with her grief, and the wall finally gives way. a boulder shifts, light spills through, and she stumbles into your sanctuary.

she drags her body through. closes the mechanism because she is respectful of you always. she sees runes glowing upon it, and understands that it is both the gods that have admitted her and prevented her from finding you. she is angry. she lets it go.

the cave is alive. a meadow unfurls before her, wild and endless beneath a fractured sky. lightning laces the clouds, but you have never feared storms. not fire, not water, not the end of the world. you refuse to bend. she hears the splash of water, and she is running again, faster than she thought possible.

she jolts forward, a broken toy with a rusted weapon and almost tumbles down the grass. she is running. she is running. her heart plods along like a horse, her breath comes quickly and harshly. 

she runs until she is at the face of your cottage. it is beautiful, it is of stone. it is glowing with a thousand stars or maybe this is her hallucinations again (it is not.) she is hungry, but she must consume you before food sullies her body. 

she stumbles to the back of the house and finds wild dogs cavorting, sees an empty chair. she keeps running, faster now. she knows you are there. 

the lake is green and blue and true, and there you are, standing at its center. your hair is braided—she smiles despite herself, remembering how much you hated the task. your body glistens with water, bare and radiant. your nipples hard and pointed from the cold. she calls your name. your neck almost snaps as you look for her, hands trembling and half-raised.

silence. you see her and she sees you and you, in your softness, begin to cry. you are floundering, attempting to come to her but she is still running. toward you now. toward you.

she is running, shedding her sword, her shirt, her past. she dives into the water, her body cutting through it like a blade. the sword sinks into the shallow beginnings of the lake and clatters against the rocks. she too, is now bare, body older and scarred, and the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. she dives, disappears which distresses you, and then comes up for air as she arcs through the water like a serpent of a myth. 

her hair is wet and slick against her forehead. you laugh, a wet warbling thing, and clap your hands over your mouth neck body. you need to touch her. 

you collide beneath the surface, chest to spine, limbs tangled.  the two of you are all twisted. when you break through, gasping, your hands find her face. her arms wrap around your thighs, lifting you from the water as her mouth claims yours. you taste salt and earth and honey, the residue of her journey.

you kiss her and kiss her and she is kissing you. she is holding you. she pulls way only to capture your mouth again, her tongue almost brutish as it bullies its way inside you. her hands dip beneath the water to cup your cunt. you are so wet and you cannot tell if it is all because of the water but you know all of it is because of her.

princess, she murmurs against your lips, her voice trembling with reverence.

her fingers slip inside, fucking you viciously. she is desperate to relearn, to feel you fall apart. your mouth is open, but there is no noise. you can hear birds shrieking, singing. maybe there is noise; maybe you are what you are hearing.

princess, she rumbles against you. princess. she keeps her rhythm, bounces you until your cunt is spasming and you melt against her—into her. you are crying and you feel good and beautiful and good. her name spills from your mouth as she milks you—relentlessly.

and you want to touch her too so you pull her from the water and push her onto shore. you spread her legs, thick and large, and lap at her cunt. she is pink inside, like turkish delight, but doubly sweeter.

her musk lures you in, and you suck, holding her to your mouth even though she snaps and shudders and cries. eventually, the pleasure becomes pain, so you release her, her juices slinking along your chin and collar bones.

you look wild; you look like a diety unknown. she is here with you, she has done it. she has held to her vow of protection—of following you for eternity. the foliage around her seems to surge and she cries anew, her grief and satisfaction coalescing into one bright burning star. you lay against her, feel your hearts exchange places. they crawl inside one another’s bodies, wet and red. 

princess, she croaks wetly.

you raise yourself, hover above her. your hair is loose; it hangs over her face. it blocks the sky; you are now her sun. as always. as was meant to be.

princess, she repeats. princess.

your mouth opens, your teeth gleam. you are smiling. this is real life. you are smiling. you are speaking. from your plush lips come the divine words, 

my knight. 

© hcneymooners.

[writingwisterias]

Bonding

Vendetta! Leon Kennedy x Winters!Medic!Reader

Warnings: Slight Angst, Injuries, Drinking, Hurt/Comfort, Bonding, trauma sharing, Age-Gap, Platonic relationship

Summary: After helping your brother find his wife you get left with unusual abilities, ones that often feel like a burden than a gift...until shit happens and you both end up healing each other in more ways than one.

Words: 2.3k

Requested by @misswynters I hope you enjoy it! Sorry it took so long, I was fighting this story trying to get it right! <3

As if it wasn’t already bad enough that he had a partner on this mission, it was made worse that it was supposedly one of the BSSA’s best. He scoffed at the files, they gave him the ones he had now thrown on the table and already forgotten about. Not that he needed it as he already predicted who would be joining him. The glass of whiskey was already half empty as he was working his way through the bottle, they hadn’t even set off yet. The agent was late, or he was just really early for once. Leon shut his eyes preparing himself for the ridicule he would receive when Chris, the agent he had presumed would be the one they sent to join him, the one that would eventually thump his way onto the plane. The man wouldn’t know how to be stealthy even if took a course on it. However, his ears picked up the sound of light footsteps on the metal stairs into the plane. His eyes peeled open as he trained them on the plane entrance. Curiosity coursed through his veins. What he didn’t expect was you. 

A younger girl, one that must have joined more recently. How was she one of their best? It looked like shes never been on a mission on her own. 

You watched as his eyes narrowed at the sight of you, clearly trying to figure out who you were and how you were possibly one of the best. A poor attempt to pinpoint your story. You didn’t fail to notice the discarded file or glass of the infamous amber liquid. If he had read it, he would have got all the answers he was currently peering at you for. Chris had warned you after all about the behaviour of the man in front of you. It was your first mission alone and according to the burly man it wouldn’t be a challenge of the enemies but of the partner you had been promised. “You must be Leon Kennedy” You spoke, holding your hand out to him. Leon studied it like you had some hidden message etched within your skin. To him they looked too clean, too pure. There were no scars or texture to them. “You are?” 

His voice was rough, and croaky from the burning liquid that warmed his insides so early in the morning. Your name shocked him but the last name piqued his curiosity. “Winters eh?” he repeated, trying to recall the significance with his dazed mind. This was the professional government agent you were promised? The best of the best? You cleared your throat sitting in the chair opposite him, a small apology leaving your lips as you bumped his knee. You already seemed too kind for this job or at least too new to it, if only he could remember why your name was familiar. “Well, it’s clear someone didn’t do their homework. I’m the sister to Ethan Winters…The baker house incident” You spoke. He didn’t fail to notice the nervous shaking of your hands, guilt coursing through him as he clearly made you relive whatever you had gone through. BSSA twat or not, no one needed to be haunted like that. “Right - I heard about your case. Your brother went looking for his wife and you ended up in a whirlwind of shit” 

Of course, Leon couldn’t be kind, he didn’t see it in his nature anymore. All he had to do was shut up, just like you were doing as you turned to face the window. There was no need to pick holes as to why you got involved in this line of work, it's not like his start was any better. A promise to work for someone else's protection only for that girl to end up like him anyway. A government pawn. 

Your head leaned against the cabin walls as you watched the plane take off. You ignored his remark, his ignorance of your past and wrongdoings was a reflection on him, not you. After all, you didn’t have to go and help Ethan find his wife. Only for the two of you to end up in that house of nightmares, to then witness a poor family wrongfully affected. Sure Leon has seen some shit, but a family just wanting to help an innocent woman and being infected with the same thing that coursed through your veins. Their minds twisted and turned as they attempted to kill you, their bodies forced to change to adapt to new horrors.

Ethan and you were given military training after that, along with the option to join the BSSA. You didn’t hate Ethan’s choice to continue his family life with Mia, taking the training and using it to protect her if he needed it. Part of you wanted to do the same but ever since you knew the truth, the fact that the virus now ran throughout your body whether you wanted it or not. It felt wrong to try and find someone new in the world, someone who would understand your position and what you did or have seen. You had accepted it… the fact you were forever infected with this taint. The loneliness it brought along with it was harder to stomach. That was until the mould changed you, your hands suddenly more useful to them than hiding. 

From what you had heard Leon was a pretty respected agent, how you didn’t understand. His attitude only grew the more he drank during the flight. The important document still left unread is now being used as a placemat for his drink. The brown folder now gathers a formation of rings. “What makes you so special then?” he asked, his eyes scanning you for any abnormalities. You shrugged. Never really have an answer to that, you can heal yourself and others but that doesn't make you feel special. It felt more like a burden. “I guess I just have more than enough knowledge and experience on whatever we are going to be dealing with” You answered. Leon didn’t respond so you took his silence as the sign the conversation was over. Your gaze lingered on him for a while longer until you finally turned to watch the plane fly amongst the clouds watching as the ground got closer now you had both reached the destination. 

Your footsteps echoed down the darkened corridor, your flashlights barely illuminating anything in front of you. The building groaned upon your arrival, the wind working its way through the cracks. The abandoned warehouse had rumours of lingering scientists working on something, the usual deal from what Leon had to say about it when you both opened the front door.   “One day I’m sure a super evil scientist will not pick a decrypted building as their place to do their experiments” You joked. A small chuckle left Leon’s lips as he glanced over at you; amusement lacing his eyes. “It wouldn't be half as fun then” he responded. The atmosphere changed between the two of you the further you entered, the once clipped and cautious words grew warmer and longer. You had both found comfort in each other's presence, a silence falling over the both of you that never quite felt awkward. Your minds worked in sync as you both cleared out the rooms, working your way further and lower into the building. That was until distant explosions went off and the two of you fell to the floor. 

You vaguely acknowledged Leon's scream of pain, the ceilings collapsing making the room dark as the rubble caged you both in. “Fuck” Leon groaned as he grasped at his leg. Your coughs rattled as you took in the clouds of dust, “you good?”. It was a stupid question really, his scream and groans of pain indicated anything but that. You scrambled for the flashlight on your belt to try and light up the space as well as hitting the emergency button sending your signal to nearby backup. The flashlight didn’t do much but it allowed you to spot Leon on the floor, clutching at his leg. You didn't have much space to work with, your hands hurt as you pressed on the ground crawling towards him. The gravel biting into your skin. “Leon? What is it?” You asked when you finally reached him, flashlight in hand. You didn't need him to answer as you had already spotted the red seeping out between his fingers. The flow didn't look like it would stop anytime soon. “Fuck” he groaned again. 

Your hands shook as they hovered over his own, your fingers gently prying his hands away from the wound to get a better look. It was bad, too bad for you to just do a quick fix and wait until you both got rescued. The rubble that was still settling around you both would probably end up infecting it. He hissed in pain as you held your hands on his wounds, you focused on it - working on stitching it back together. Leon watched as you worked, his brain trying to grasp what was even happening. “What the fuck” he muttered under his breath as your hands pulled away. His own replaced yours once again, feeling the stitched skin. There was no scar, no lingering reminder of this unfortunate event left on his skin. “How?” He questioned. 

You sat back against the rubble behind you, your knees clutched tightly to your chest to give him some more room. He watched you shrink into yourself. You looked so small, so young. Too young to be brought into a job like this, to see the things you must have seen. It reminded him of himself, the young cop who was thrown into the deep end when he just tried to help people. “When I went to help my brother…in the baker's house…we both got infected. He can just heal himself, you should have seen the injuries he's had” you explained. He could hear the weak chuckle in your words, trying to make light of a decision to help your brother. One that changed your life. “And you? What happened to you during it?” 

“Ethan protected me from most of what happened, he's got a baby on the way from what he told me in our last phone call. I ended up leaving with the ability to heal others as well as myself…it's tiring, and traumatizing at times- the injuries I've seen are something else. But Chris said the BSSA could use someone like me. So I joined” 

Leon studied you further, his eyes piercing in the dim light of the flashlight. He could understand how you felt. You had been given an opportunity, something that would make you feel like you were doing some good. Only to forever try and shoulder the effects of the lifestyle change. “After Raccoon City I was forced to become an agent. To use my pure luck and train it into my skill set today. Despite the conversation, it never really felt like I had a choice, an option for what I wanted to do. It was blackmail” 

You didn't expect him to explain his own story, to open up in an attempt you assumed was to make you feel like you weren't alone in this world. You untucked yourself slightly, a movement that didn't go unnoticed by Leon. His small smile was proof of that. “Some shitty life this is. Does it ever stop feeling so lonely? Like how do you explain this to someone? To people you want to be friends with or have in your life. I pushed everyone I knew before away because I just couldn’t explain it.” you asked him. 

You were as shocked as Leon was that you had begun to confide in him. He assumed these were the types of conversations you would have with Chris or your brother. Yet, Ethan was married his whole seemingly working out okay and Chris had always been a lone wolf as of late. Consulting only with close friends with experiences similar to his own. Leon supposed he did the same, that’s why he had only spoken to Chris, Claire or anyone else he’d met over the years. You didn’t have that, you had only just begun and ended up trapped under rubble without even finding the scientist. To you this mission was a failure; to Leon, it was just beginners luck, no one ever had a good first day alone in this line of work. “I guess you don't, the people I've spoken to have similar experiences I guess, or at least are connected to the job. I’ve never fully felt like I had a friend”  He answered, scooting closer to you. You sighed at the tiny bit of contact as his shoulder brushed you, almost a reminder that you were still human and not some monster your head constantly told you. You have seen what the mould could do, how it changed people's minds…corrupted them.“I’m sorry we just met, I didn’t mean to just dump this on you” 

“I asked, didn’t I? About your past, how you ended up here” 

You supposed he did, it wasn’t unprompted. Despite his tough exterior, something told you deep down he wasn’t always like this. Despite all the pain and trauma he either hid inside himself or washed away with an alcohol of his choice; he still wanted to help people. To make sure that the person he was talking to wasn’t alone. “Besides, I’d rather be trapped in here with you than Chris. At least I have more leg room” 

Your laugh was sweet, lighter than the look that permeated your face since you had met him. It suited you. “I suppose you are better company than Chris, with his smoking habit I’d have probably suffocated with second-hand smoke” 

Leon smiled as you opened up, as the knees lowered from your chest, lining up with his own. His froze as your head hit his shoulder, unused to the contact after being alone for so long (by his own choice). Leon laid his head on yours, the both of you silently leaning on each other as you remained trapped by your pasts, the futures uncertain. “You don’t happen to know how to make shadow puppets do you?” 

[thisuserisgonesorry]

1,, im not a teenager . might be young but i have a pretty good grasp on adulthood atp , and i’m not the only person that thinks this specific take; ive asked a lot of mutuals/friends who are (young,,) adults and agree w/ me and many people in rbs agree so like .. bringing my age into this is so left field cos . idk . weird thing 2 say

2 in my experience from living in a very “redneck” (lack of a better term) area (though not america, so there could be a difference), ive met 20-25 year olds who look and act exactly like daryl in s1 because teenagers in redneck areas just look like that. thats where my estimate came from, due to my own experiences

3,, norman reedus literally just looks young in everything he plays . you cant deny that he has a bit of a baby face and doesnt ALWAYS look his age . (but also celebrity men do look like that cos they dont just start rotting away the second they hit 23 because blue collar / minimum wage jobs suck) and never did i say there was a problem w/ him being 40 , just that it didnt make sense in my mind,,, nd actors can play characters that are a different age than them. norman being 40 ≠ daryl having to be 40

4,, he wasnt embarrassed until around season 3-4 iirc , closer to when he was around more people and less isolated , closer to merles death , more so around when he found out carol would go to that community home to get away from ed and then more around beths whole arc (iirc? im a bit aways from s3 rn,,)

nd considering 25+ is around when the frontal lobe developed. yeah. he would act like an idiot in s1. like all young adults do. and he would helplessly follow his brother around for validation considering his childhood, and he’d do whatever he wanted. he would be a terrible drunk, with no job. young adults do that. especially ones w/ mental health / bad childhood

then he develops into a person who was willing to learn to deal with his trauma when around season 4 when (in hc) he’d be like 27 at the earliest (?) because we have to remember that we skip all of loris pregnancy and then the first year (?) of judiths life. making him on the closer side to 30 around the time the prison, when his character starts developing.

(and i never said 25 was the solid age, just that hes “like 25”, meaning im happy to account s1 daryl as 26,27,28, whatever, just that hes under 30 in s1 in my mind)

5 i agree that him being older plays a part in his story but i dont think being 25 suddenly makes him a little baby that makes his development void. his frontal lobe developed. that is a valid subtextual reason for him to mature. but that isnt the only thing that made him reflect and want to cope with his trauma. merles frontal lobe developed and he never tried to do what daryl did - therefor the age thing doesn’t exactly diminish his story or else merle wouldve changed before the outbreak, but he didnt, because some people dont. some people reach frontal lobe age and stay the same. its not “he just grew up” because then merle would have too, but he did grow up, and realised following merle was stupid. but he wouldnt have reached that outcome if there werent other factors so it can easily be both

6 i never said 40 looks old or that theres a problem w it, but how is he older than rick? than most of the other people there? being older than rick feels like it makes no sense (although rick didnt grow up like daryl did and they had carl young so blab yeah theres reasons) and merle being 35+ does make some sense though id somewhat agree 35 is young for merle. m not saying that ppl start decomposing when they hit 30 but god forbid i hc someone as not 40

+ trauma physically ages people so even if daryl did look the same age or older than rick, then it would still be plausible that hes younger. we see trauma age characters in this show. its not hard to assume it happened to him outside of the outbreak too

prob formatted this like a mess but ,, m tired

n e way other people in the rb say that they think daryl is different ages to all of them (varying from 20-40) and as i said in those rbs its interesting that no one can really “agree” on what age he should be cos hes an enigma like that and i think it suits him,, like we all can agree on certain things about certain character cos its a unanimous vibe but then his unanimous vibe is that no one truly knows him??? subtext of it all .

anyway /nm for all of this . im just a little guy . i respect ur opinion cos i love my pookie and i really do love that everyone interprets his story so differently ,,,, i just like talking about it

idgaf im sick of not saying it. s1 daryl dixon is not fucking 40 bro. hes like 25. there is no way in fucking hell.

[insomniadreamzz]

OK OK OK FOLLOWING THE PREGNANCY STORYLINE LETS IMAGINE ISHA IS HERE A CUTE FLUFFY THING WITH EITHER ISHA MEETING THE BABY OR FINDING OUT READER IS PREGNANT AND THAT SHES GONNA BE A BIG SIS

Our family

Jinx x Fem!Reader ft. Isha (plus a little bonus with Sevika)

Fluff

A continuation from the fic „My Everything“ https://www.tumblr.com/insomniadreamzz/772011828255621120/hey-how-are-you-i-wanted-to-request-gp-jinx-x

You still remember when Isha found out she gonna be a big sister, the way her eyes were literally glowing with happiness. Isha was mute but she expressed her happiness clearly, already doing little doodles of her and her sister together with you and Jinx. The way she put her little head on your baby bump to feel her sister kick, it was just too cute.

Jinx already set up some stuff for the little one, making sure youre gonna have everything you needed when the baby will arrive and soon it happened.

You can still remember how Jinx held your hand and never left your side. Singed, the only doctor here in Zaun also made an appearance to make sure everything went well. He wasn’t used to be part of something like that very often but he was glad he could help you out in that situation. Jinx kisses on your forehead and the way she encouraged you during that hard time, it was still stuck in your head how gentle and loving she can be and then it happened. When you first heard your little one cry, both of you shed tears of happiness, feeling relieved that everything went good. It was a little girl.

When you both got back home after that, Jinx immediately ushered you to bed, figuring you must be tired as you had your newborn in your arms, Jinx never leaving your side.

„Look how cute she is…our little one…“ She cooed, holding you close as she admired your daughter, making you smile so happily. „Of course she is, she is ours.“ You mentioned, looking into your girlfriend’s eyes. „What should we name her?“ You asked and Jinx already got an idea, something that she was thinking about for a longer time now since she knew you are pregnant.

„Powder.“ Jinx said, making your eyes widen in confusion, knowing it was Jinx‘s actual name. „Powder?“ You asked, Jinx nodding in response. „Yes. I want to have a good connection to that name now. Every time I hear it I have to think about myself when I was younger and…certain things happened but I want to forget that. I want to be happy hearing the name Powder and not feel triggered anymore by that name. She will be a better Powder, not like me. I am Jinx now, Powder died in me but we can make her be a better Powder than I was.“ You heard her voice crack a little, seeing little tears running down her cheeks. This really meant a lot to Jinx, you knew it. „Then she will be Powder.“ You agreed with her, using your free hand to caress her back gently, getting back her attention towards you. „Thank you my love.“ She said before placing a little kiss on your lips.

The moment got interrupted by little footsteps, it was Isha who curiously walked up to you, Jinx shifting to make space for Isha between you both. „Isha! Come here, say hello to your little sister.“ Jinx said, letting the girl slip beside you as she looked at the little one with wide happy eyes, her small hand gently touching Powder as if welcoming her.

„Now you are a big sister. You can show her everything when she gets a little bigger, cool right?“ You said, Isha nodding at your words, feeling really happy to be a big sister now plus she was excited to have someone to play with in the future as well.

You talked a little more this evening until all of you just fell asleep. Powder on your chest and Isha sleeping between you and Jinx, all cuddled up in one bed. It was a very peaceful moment. Jinx slept for the first time very happily and calm, the voices in her head not bothering her at all. She was truly happy for the first time and she won’t let anyone destroy this happy life she had.

The next morning Sevika was on her way to Jinx’s hideout, it’s been a while since she showed up, probably hanging around in the Last Drop or doing her usual work. Sevika knew Jinx from when Silco took her with him so she felt like she had to look for her every now and then, making sure Jinx was alright.

„Jinx where the fuck are-…“ She started but stopped immediately in her tracks as she saw Jinx holding a baby while you and Isha were still sleeping cuddled up together. „Where did that baby come from?“ She asked with a raised eyebrow, not trusting this situation for now.

„That’s my daughter which came right out of my girlfriend if you want to know.“ Jinx replied with her usual sassy behavior. Sevika didn’t want to know any more details, shaking it off as she stepped closer to Jinx, having a closer look at the baby. „That’s…really yours?“ She asked again, being a little bit shocked, Jinx nodding in response. „Yep! Does auntie Sevika want to say hello to little Powder? Or are you gonna chicken out?“ Obviously Jinx had to tease Sevika but the older woman didn’t let her make her annoyed as she just nodded. Jinx helped Sevika to hold Powder with her arm, the baby looking even smaller in her strong arm. „There you go.“

Sevika stared at the baby with a unusual soft gaze. „Aw…did you just say auntie Sevika?“ She asked to be sure. „Of course! You’re the only one left who’s like a family to me after Silco died.“ Jinx became soft as she said that, thinking it was about time to speak the truth to Sevika, making the other womans eyes water a little. „Silco would be so happy and proud of you Jinx.“ Sevika mentioned, making Jinx almost cry but she held back her tears. Instead a little tear rolled down Sevika‘s cheek. „Are you crying?“ Jinx tilted her head as she gazed at Sevika who just shook her head. „No I am not.“ She said, making Jinx chuckle in response. „Damn you are a bad liar.“

And with that both started chuckling.

[iwashie]

Sevika, and reader on her period headcanon...

Sevika is in her late 30s and probably doesn't suffer with her period-or do-, but dating a younger woman, at the peak of hormones and period, makes her think about her time and asks herself how she handles you and all your versions during it.

She knows your period is coming by just seeing your breasts swelling, some complaints about your back hurting, and mood changing during the day as you always do but never remember it's that time of the month.

She always has a lot of pads, your favorite food stockpiled, medicine for your various pains, always ready to massage your back, legs and belly, brings you a lot of water and a hot water bottle for cramps.

"Doll, it's normal to have a period. Don't be angry or disgusting for it. I know you don't like having pains, and all that stuff period brings on, but it's normal. And you have me by your side."

Your mood swings are a challenge for her, but she handles somehow. Just like the day you two were walking around Zaun, enjoying a street food you begged her to buy and then she notices you're not by her side, looking back to see you stuck in the place, your eyes on the ground, on your food on the ground. She immediately ran back to you, soothing you as your eyes filled with tears and mumbled that you haven't even bitten. "That's alright, doll. Have mine and everything is fine."

Or the day she made a joke at the wrong time and wrong place, making everyone at the table in Last Drop alternate gaze between you two just to look away when you lashed out on her and left the place without her. Or the day a woman looked at her for too long, and you had to show that woman that your woman was your woman. Or tried to throw punches at every man whistling at you- Ran had to stop you and Sevika at this one.

She thought your period cravings were something else. Why so much sugar?!? It's was possible worse than pregnancy cravings. "Are you on your period, or are you pregnant?

"I'm craving something sweet, like really sweet." You said, searching for something in the cabinets. "Have some sugar." You looked at her with fire on your eyes, and she felt a cold sweat run down her back. "What about some chocolate cake, ice cream, or some food deep-rooted with sugar? I'll buy it, doll."

She can't keep up with your energy, always accepting whatever you want and following behind you everywhere with a scowl, but making sure you're good, safe, and happy. She doesn't understand how you have so much energy left after doing a lot of things during the day to her about your day and plans, just to fall asleep suddenly.

She also handled you crying over everything and making traps for her, like asking her if she'd love you if you were a worm, or her worst nightmare: "Would you love me if I was from topside?" and her long silence was answer enough for you to start weeping. "Doll, it's just a dumb thought. Of course I'd love you and gonna be with you forever. I promise!"

She prefers to handle you when you are calmer, too sore to handle the world on your back, and stays in bed, being doted by her. She always cuddles you, her human hand on your belly to warm it up, whispering sweet nothings or watching a movie with you, both wrapped in the blankets. "I love you too, doll."

Maybe the best thing about your period is the much horniness you have during it. Your wild side is always showing up at this time of the month; always teasing her with dirty whispers, handsy. She loves fucking you, making love to you, making you cum and all. But, damn, you've come three times already, and you're looking at her with those eyes again, and she isn't young anymore, she needs to catch her breath. "Please, Vika. Just one more. You can use your fingers on me this time. Pleaseee."

She loves it when you are horny and take the lead, playing with yourself, teasing her until she does something about it and makes slow, tender, sweaty love to you. "Fuck, doll. Your pussy is so wet and creamy for me, gotta fuck it properly, huh. Do you want this? Want my cock deep inside your pussy? Good girl, doll..."

Your crazy ideas always caught her by surprise. She is sure that these ideas are made up before your period, and you only come with them to blame on the "period hehehe"

"You know what? I really want-" "Please, a normal thing for once." "You to impregnate me." A silence in the room. "Impossible, doll." "What do you mean it's important? DON'T YOU LOVE ME ANYMORE?!?" "It's biological Impossible to get you pregnant with my babies." "Well. We gotta keep trying, vika!"

Your low self-esteem is the biggest problem, like how she's gonna put inside your head that you are the most beautiful person in Zaun? The prettiest woman she's ever laid eyes on! "Your body is completely fine! Your skin is normal! You're not fat, square, or I don't know! Your clothes are completely fitting, you're fucking beautiful and perfect. The only woman for me, doll!"

At the end of your period, she would be exhausted, needing vacations away from Zaun, but glad to have you surviving another period without trying to kill her and every other Zaun citizen. She would be so glad to have her girl back, not that you're much different but still.

@iwashie 2025, please do not translate, modify or republish my works

[kurinhimenezu]

90 Day Baby Daddy - Adam - HH

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Author's Note: Plot lost itself a little but it'll be explained in the next chapters! I have no idea how long this will be so hopefully we'll find out together

CW: Adam cursing in front of babies, mentions of stalking (but not really emphasized)

Enjoy!

Arrem looks worriedly over at her friend typing furiously at her laptop.

“Hey man, I’m just saying…maybe get a student loan? Instead of like selling feet pics to save up for some semesters for college seems a little much, right?”

“I really don’t want to be in even more debt to be honest with you and I am NOT selling feet pics! I was just writing someone’s essay for a couple of bucks” Y/n made a face before picking up her coffee. “At least we can mooch off of some wifi around here”

Arrem nodded and toasted her cup before taking a sip. Her eyes occasionally flitting back and forth to her book and to Y/n.

“Okay what is up, you’ve been staring at me looking like you wanna explode or something” Y/n took another sip of her coffee and placed it down on the coaster.

“I still can’t believe that…” Arrem leaned closer, whispering, “I still can’t believe Adam is the guy that knocked you up…why didn’t you tell us?? We could’ve sued the pants off of the guy for unpaid child support”

Y/n snorted, shaking her head. Arrem was always the practical one, even when her suggestions tend to be a little psychotic and the only one who knows her kid’s actual father.

She looked at her friend, dressed simply with her boots and long sleeves. She’s sometimes jealous that Arrem and the rest of the guys managed to finish their studies with relatively no problem.

Pen and Arrem took the same degree and are studying for their work licenses, working in the diner for the mean time to have some extra cash in the bank.

Fish finished his teaching degree a year before them, gave up teaching after seeing how fucking dumb the students of today are, thus crushing his hope for the younger generation and sunk his savings in a diner that’s surprisingly doing well to support him and his mom.

Which was sweet.

It’s a little difficult to not feel inadequate when you’re stuck someplace you can’t seem to get out of. She did try to finish college, hell she only had a couple of classes left to but being heavily pregnant and having to walk everywhere just to get to class just got too difficult. The judgemental stares didn't help either.

She had to drop out and take care of her baby.

It’s not all bad, she’s grateful for the kid and couldn’t imagine not having her after seeing her after birth. She just wishes she got pregnant on her own terms. Hell after graduating would've been nice.

Y/n frowned, she still couldn’t remember how she got into Adam’s bed in the first place and it’s really bothering her when she has some time for herself to think.

“I’m serious!”

Y/n snapped out of her thoughts, “Hm?”

Arrem sighs, taking a bite of her hashbrown viciously. Girl loves her potatoes. “I mean if it weren’t for him—”

“I know but it’s no use dwelling in the past...besides you love the little bean, right?” Y/N grinned.

Her friend crossed her arms and looked away, “Yeah, I do…she’s got spunk but what’ll you say when she grows up? Toddlers are smart sometimes you know”

“I’ll get to that bridge when I get there right now, I’m enjoying the baby ride”

Arrem uncrossed her arms and turns to look at her, “I’m still sorry…I feel partly responsible for what happened, I shouldn’t have given you all that alcohol and I should’ve kept an eye on you”

Y/n looks at Arrem in surprise. Arrem looks so mad at herself. Has she been holding on to this guilt the whole time?

“Hey, don’t feel responsible, I’m pretty sure I went and wandered off on my own anyway, it just so happens to be Adam I got with”

Her knowing Adam being the father of her child was no baseless accusation.

She knew it was Adam that she got with because she remembered waking up sore but utterly satisfied and his huge autograph written on her stomach along with his “phone number” …in permanent ink.

It took her 3 days to completely scrub all the ink off, (After having Arrem take a picture of course, the picture is tucked away in her little journal along with the rest of the merch she has of Adam’s band. She hates how obsessed she was before the incident)

“Shit man, don’t look now” Arrem mumbled against the lid of her coffee cup.

“Huh?” Y/n discreetly looks at the door, the bell jingling indicating a new customer.

Murmurs start to echo in the small coffee shop and not the usual kind of white noise either. It’s more…excited, quick, hushed whispers and the snapping of phone cameras.

“Yo…hook me up with a venti flat white, would ya? Ya’ll got supersize?”

Y/n internally groaned at hearing that annoying accent. That fucking drawl she thought was charming at one point. Adam has this way of speaking that you can’t really tell where he’s from, like a mix of speech patterns you can’t pinpoint. Y/n just chalked it up to travelling around so much.

The barista flinched at the order before nervously looking at the large man. With that boyish attitude on interviews, Adam still looks intimidating with his studs and spikes with golden eyes lined with what looks like dark smudged charcoal.

Okay she needs to stop.

“Uh sir...that’s more than enough espresso to give a normal man heart palpitations…are you sure?”

Adam looks at the barista like he’s stupid. “Then serve it to me in those little cups then?”

The barista opened his mouth before shutting it closed, nodding his head in defeat, “Yes sir that’ll be $149.99 please”

Y/n choked on her iced coffee at hearing the price, gaping as Adam easily pulled out a black card and swiping it at the machine.  “Jesus man, I didn’t even know this place have those”

Arrem shrugged, tapping on her phone, “He says he’s a struggling artist but you never know with types like him”

“Helloooo ladies”

The two women let out annoyed sighs, one rolling her eyes before looking up at Adam.

“Adam” Arrem nodded, lifting her cup at him, “Big fan”

Adam gave her a finger gun before looking over at Y/n expectantly.

Y/n looks at Adam with a raised brow, judging him from head to toe. “Not so big fan” She smiled at him almost sickly sweet.

Adam huffs, taking a sip of his heart stopping coffee. “Right sooo…” He looks at her awkwardly trying to keep his cool.

It doesn’t help that a bunch of nosy fucks are filming him right now. His PR manager is so gonna fry his ass later.

“Oh! Right…here!” he shoved his hand down his tight leather pants, pulling out a cloth headband, pink and wrinkled with what looks like a fake rhinestone in the middle of it. “Your brat dropped this!” Adam grinned, handing it over to Y/n. He looked almost proud of himself for keeping it safe till now.

Y/n blinked at Adam before looking down at the thing suspiciously, it looked too…expensive to be her baby’s. Before she could protest that it’s impossible to be Addie’s, Arrem nudged her foot with hers.

“Dude...”

Y/n looked at her friend before finally noticing the café’s patrons trying to discreetly tune in to their conversation.

She bit her lip as Adam’s grin widened almost wickedly at seeing her resolve crumble and taking the hairband from his hand.

“Right…thank you SO much Adam, my baby’s been missing this…thing for a few days” Y/n turned the clip around inspecting it. It was shockingly girly, looking at it now she does remember panic buying a ton of baby girl stuff before Addie was born. Maybe she forgot about this particular hairband?

All in all, it doesn’t look too suspicious. Just a normal run of the mill hair clip.

Once Y/n took the ribbon and tied it to her bag, Adam smirked before turning away to sit at the corner booth at the back, the rest of his bandmates coming into the shop to sit at his table.

“Never noticed Addie wears ribbons like this” Arrem nodded at the hairband.

Y/n doesn’t want to make a scene and shrugged, not knowing what to say.

This was the first time she ever saw this hair clip too.

Y/n couldn’t seem to escape Adam lately. From the sleepy part of the city she knew and love turned into the #1 spot for tours, making her daily life seem a little more…ad conscious. Billboards of Adam’s face promoting his new album or a new music video that they’re going to shoot somewhere nearby or other bands opening for Adam playing non stop in TVs in the grocery stores.

Adam had snuck into her life again, remembering her name this time and even giving out his real number. Which she hasn't tried to call.

It wasn’t so bad, the vibes suddenly started becoming energetic with tourists coming in with all the popup events coming in.

Adam would travel around and would always come back after some months to “catch a break” here before going off again.

Maybe she’s feeling a little too full of herself into thinking that a famous rockstar is following her around but it was a little strange.

Sometimes she feels like someone is watching but when she looks around, no one is there. Or it's some rando not even paying attention to her.

But then who else would leave new baby stuff at her doorstep? Definitely not some good Samaritan. Her friends were pretty stumped too when she called to thank them for the gifts.

It was too much to think about and just let it happen.

“Damn how expensive are the frozen vegetables now…?” She mumbled, placing the generic store brand packet in the cart. The grocery was thankfully quiet, the early morning giving her some semblance of peace with the old folks doing their shopping and the sleepy night shifters minding their own business.

Addie gurgled, babbling and taking a bite of her teething ring as she tries to reach for a rubber duck hanging from the shelf.

A large hand plucked the toy from the shelf and handed it to the baby, making Addie squeal happily.

“I’ve never heard you laugh at vegetables before baby…that’s new…” Y/n’s voice trailed off seeing Adam, smiling at her kid and making a rubber duck squeak in his fist.

“Are you serious??”

Adam’s eyes flickered up at her and grinned, “Hey angeltits, looking gorgeous as usual”

“Man your crush on me is really obvious…your groupies must be so sick of seeing me with you”

Adam recoiled from her, handing the duck over to Addie. “Bitch you’re lucky to be in my presence”

Y/n snorts, putting a can of sauce into her basket, “And yet you’re somehow around us whenever you’re ‘on break’ “

Adam made a face and kept quiet, he doesn’t have a good comeback he has to admit so he turned to Addie, “Mommy’s being a cunt huh princesss? Yes she iissss”

Y/n’s eyebrow twitched and pushed Adam’s face away from her laughing kid, “Can you not curse around my baby??”

He only rolled his eyes before looking down at the sorry excuse of groceries in the cart. Something in his gut recoiled.

           | What do you mean?? She can’t be mine!

“Your choices suck ass Y/n” Adam frowned, taking the cart and started shoving actual food into the cart.

| Well...why wouldn’t she tell me then?

“H-hey! It’s not my fault this place has limited stuff-Adam!” Y/n cringed as he grabbed stuff left and right not even checking for the price or sales or even if it was qualified for a coupon before dropping them into the cart.

He even grabbed some of those yogurt bites for Addie.

“Adam” Y/n grabbed his arm, before he could grab a bag of fruit. “Listen…I appreciate the stuff and the concert tickets—”

“Which you didn’t go to and how did you even know it was me sending you those packages?” He pointed out.

She rolled her eyes, “Maybe next time, change your name on the Amazon packages before sending it to my house” Y/n sighs, rubbing her face tiredly. Adam, I can’t afford this stuff…if you think I can you’re sorely mistaken”

Raising a brow, Adam placed the bag of fruit in to the filled cart and started wheeling it to the check out, “And what makes you think I’m letting you pay?”

The cashier started to swipe the stuff in one by one, the prices going up and up.

“Adam—”

“We need to talk Y/n”

Y/n frowned, looking at the man staring nonchalantly at the numbers on the screen before tapping his card easily to pay for everything.

There wasn’t a hint of joking around on his face which was unusual for the normally unserious musician.

Adam took Addie from the cart and carried her, escorting Y/n to the parking lot and letting the cart jockeys help with loading the groceries into the back of his truck.

Y/n wet her lips, already having an idea on what the talk would be with the way Adam was looking at Addie and the way he’s so familiar with holding her…

Shit.

I may have rushed it a little lol

Tags: @sniigura

[ruegarding]

for context, @rosabell14 is referring to tags on this post.

ok we're going off-road w this one

generally speaking, i like the concept of "some things aren't meant to be controlled," which annabeth says to percy after he controls the poison. this is said and then immediately forgotten abt, however, this could be another angle of change, a reoccurring theme in hoo, as well as a continued theme from pjo.

obviously, from pjo, the change is addressed w the myths, the theme of yielding, and w the conclusion of the story:

hoo continues this concept of change w the percy-jason switch, the greek-roman conflict, the idea of what an identity is and how to change it, etc. there's a lot of individual character work w this idea, but there's less of a mythological concept attached to it. gaea is a static and flatly written antagonist, octavian becomes incredibly flat as a character and his development into this sort of fanatical antagonist that is never explored, there's a lot of teeth-gritting abt how the gods are gods and they never change and everyone just has to accept it, the myths aren't challenged in the same way they were in pjo, etc. there's a few major exceptions, i'll get to that.

this is a glaring issue i have w hoo. it wouldn't be as bad as a standalone, but hoo makes the entirety of the previous series meaningless. in tlo, percy asks for kids to get claimed and be trained so when (or if) they have to go on dangerous quests/fight monsters/etc they're both older and more experienced. this is the conclusion to the war and how the status quo is changed (disability accommodations expanded to reach more ppl and work more effectively).

hoo, however, does not do this. camp jupiter infamously has a child army while the adults are retired, all of the new characters are younger than percy (who is still 16), and only two of them have spent a long period of time training, although hazel's isn't formal/in a camp (and piper doesn't even learn how to fight until book four ffs). this sort of immediately bastardizes pjo in a way that is never acknowledge by the series and makes it, and anything after it, a failure as a continuation of pjo.

and that's where this theme could've come in. when bob is remembering who he is, him and percy have this back-and-forth abt identity. percy relates to bob bc he, too, just had his memory erased and that vulnerability exploited (annabeth's perspective in this conversation is very different bc she doesn't have this same experience nor does she understand percy's feelings abt it. a good way to build tension using different povs, but, once again, doesn't get fully utilized). in the conclusion that conversation, there's an interesting moment:

this is that idea again, "some things aren't meant to be controlled," like fate, like identity. titans are meant to "be the same...forever." and here percy is, not only as the catalyst for change by throwing bob into the river lethe, but also by encouraging him to commit to this change once bob should know better. this was percy's role in the previous series, as well, where he constantly challenges the perspective of other characters to be more quote human unquote.

afterwards, annabeth has a similar moment w damasen:

i also think these are very funny to have side-by-side, just as character analysis, bc percy is very much both insecure and empathetic like u can choose ur future, it's up to u, etc, whereas annabeth is like i am right, listen to me.

anyway, both of these moments repeat the idea from pjo/tlo: immortals can't change. but they are changing. and they will change. the rules of the world are malleable (i also think hazel's monologue abt seeing the minotaur as a victim would be another aspect of this to explore). what abt traditions? what abt camp jupiter's child army? how should these change? going back to the og thought, tho, what shouldn't change? what are the "some things" that aren't meant to be controlled? how do you balance traditions and reform (great opportunity to use octavian btw!)? why can't a god be human, act human? why are the ancient rules important? that's an important discussion to have if we're growing this universe.

i don't particularly like that hoo immediately reverts back w the premise of the story, like i was talking abt earlier, nor do i think these characters were introduced or used well in canon, but using these characters, these moments, these conversations, rick could've salvaged this mess by embracing change isn't a static thing. he doesn't, tho, so it's all lost potential.

separately, something i've always liked abt the akhlys fight is that percy wins the literal, physical fight against her, but loses the metaphorical fight. he gets to walk away, but he walks away miserable. and this is bc the gods aren't ppl, they're physical representations of concepts. and percy has this thought abt tartarus and gaea while in tartarus, and i believe it's brought up in boo, but it's barely relevant. it's something i wish was explored more.

now onto specific characters. i talk abt my general idea here, ie this moment in tartarus is forcing percy and annabeth to confront their worst-case scenarios.

for annabeth, i've repeatedly gone on record to say i hate the way annabeth is written in hoo, here is an example, ie her fatal flaw does not come thru in her character (i also think she and percy switched characterizations from pjo to hoo, but...). separate issue is that annabeth's character revolves around percy a lot. so there are two issues i would focus on, largely bc she's not written well and doesn't have established unique conflicts. like,

this is a big revelation at the end of hoh, that she has to "step back" and she can't "protect everyone she love[s]." except it doesn't make any sense. tlo ended w annabeth telling percy to give luke her knife which luke uses to kill himself. not to mention, thalia's sacrifice on hbh. ALSO. percy accepting the prophecy and "taking the brunt of the danger"! and finally. annabeth has been at camp for 7-8 years. 1) she should have relationships w these ppl and 2) she should care that some of the ogs died in the previous war (which would also require rick to figure out who died lol). but the point is, this isn't a new conflict for annabeth!

the thought she had in moa abt having to accept she's not always the best person for the job:

this is not built up nor is it delivered on, but would be interesting, given that she demanded to be on the quest and if there was an actual power struggle instead of writing her as the de facto leader. this would be a better conflict than accepting that "she couldn't protect everyone she loved" when she has historically not been able to protect everyone she loved.

anyway, back on topic.

first, this moment exists to challenge her perception of percy, which is important to challenge bc she quite frankly has an unhealthy attachment to him. other ppl have said this better than i, so here's a post abt codependency and p*rcabeth and here's another one i rbed a while ago.

tldr; rick treats annabeth's abandonment issues/possessiveness/codependency as like. cute, peak romance. and he's been doing this since pjo, right, like annabeth's abandonment issues and possessiveness didn't matter when it was thalia joining the hunters,—bc there's no romance trope here w thalia—but gods forbid percy speak to rachel.

and this doesn't change in hoo. in fact, it's worse. like,

i'm going to [statement redacted] rick for this. what part of this is cute??? i'm killing it with fire.

so anyway, i want to treat annabeth's possessiveness/etc as an actual, consistent, character flaw, that she can grow out of, even. maybe even connect it to her hubris or her rsd. explore her feelings abt luke now that we have her pov to do it in. the fallout from this moment w akhlys is a great way to begin delving into that bc it's a shocking moment for her.

second, and going back to the theme of change, annabeth is different from percy in the sense that she has a different relationship to the gods than him (which i'm comparing bc i think rick (and fandom) has a hard time giving these two consistent and separate personalities/beliefs post pjo). the two times she has rebelled against the gods directly were bc of percy's influence (again, this is percy's role in pjo), 1) in the zoo truck, a scene that only takes place bc percy challenged her view of the poseidon-athena rivalry and their place in it, and 2) w hera where the first words out of annabeth's mouth are literally "percy is right."

i find this interesting especially bc her fatal flaw is hubris, which is common in mythology and frequently ends up fatal bc ppl challenge the gods. so, annabeth using the gods and these stories to keep her hubris in check makes complete sense.

and it seems like this is the same approach she's using w percy:

percy is directly challenging a god for power, and more than that, he's challenging a domain he's not supposed to have control of at all.

very interesting! does not get explored. such is common for hoo.

for percy, this scene is part of a long-running conversation of his powers (which is a huge part of his disability coding!!!!!). and it doesn't go anywhere.

percy has established anger issues and implied emotional dysregulation. this has been a thing since the beginning, literally chapter one of tlt! punishing percy for this when he's clearly not getting the support he needs is. a choice. also there's the issue that hoo kinda. erases this aspect of percy's character until the confrontation w akhlys, which is a separate but related issue.

there really should've been more buildup to this outburst (eg: in son percy punches a shelf in the library and immediately feels guilty bc he scares frank and hazel. percy is in an incredibly stressful situation; this should've happened more), but that would mean rick would treat it and the disability conversation seriously (which falls flat after son) and do less teeth-gritting abt the whole gods thing.

so, to go back on my "using the different povs to build tension was wildly underutilized" train, a featured part of almost everyone's pov is that percy is very kind, and gentle, and forgiving. i discuss a moment w frank being impressed w percy's selflessness here and he also says that he would follow percy anywhere, jason says percy is "a nice guy" after like 2 days, nico has his whole thing, hazel says "percy was a child of poseidon’s better nature," going on to describe him as gentle, etc.

and all of this praise goes nowhere and kinda just becomes percy is so awesome...and then turns into everything is percy's fault in boo...it's bad writing.

but it's an interesting opportunity to play w perspective. percy in pjo is dehumanized in that he is both villainized and idolized, and obviously hoo is continuing the trend w idolization. rick sets up a great plotline w this in moa:

and this doesn't go anywhere bc apparently percy's problem is that he needs to learn to step back. which. part of this is bc rick recycled plotlines from percy and gave them to other characters, which means that percy cannot be in character anymore without making themlook bad (the recycled plotlines i'm talking abt are the idolization, imposter syndrome, wanting to step back but constantly pushed into the spotlight, being seen as different/elevated status bc of ur parentage, struggling to connect to who your parent is, even the dehumanization as a weapon is straight out of percy's writing in pjo). this is a big problem w hoo in general ie characters becoming ooc by necessity (see: bad writing). the other part to blame is that rick is literally trying to redo tlo what w the whole "you are not the hero." it's all the same from pjo except written worse. it's a running theme of hoo (and a bonus). bad writing all the way down!

ANYWAY. so pjo ends w percy at an elevated status bc he 1) survived an unsurvivable prophecy, 2) was offered godhood, and 3) turned down godhood to improve the lives of the demigods while all the demigods watched. and he has the curse of achilles but. we all know how that went. the point is, all of this puts percy on a pedestal. i like to think it's the biggest reason hera kidnapped percy: if he said no, if he refused, she would've lost the support of almost all the demigods at chb (also the metaphor for the audience lol). i think making percy go on the quest, or at least to new rome, is the only good bit of world building rick did between books.

the problem is, rick is kinda all over the place w how percy is perceived and misses both the point of percy's character (callback to what i said abt his disability) and the world building of the previous series (what happened to power-scaling, narrative consequence, etc fr). that's what creates the flip-flopping "percy is perfect" and "everything is percy's fault," and neither are particularly good reads.

going back to annabeth, i don't think she's an exception in idolizing percy. she has no reason to see percy's vindictive side bc he works hard to hide it. even w crusty, annabeth is preoccupied. annabeth is smart, she's not omniscient. instead, there's the famous "percy is too nice" from som. i also like to think this is why she keeps trying to talk to percy abt luke as if luke is a good person who didn't try to kill percy. she doesn't understand that percy would hate luke for betraying him bc why would he? percy is a good person.

(for the record, i think the exceptions are: 1) grover, who chooses not to bring it up w the exception of his nemesis comment in tlt, 2) rachel, who made a painting where percy's "expression in the picture was fierce—disturbing, even—so it was hard to tell if I was the good guy or the bad guy" and simply said that's how he looked, and 3) arguably nico—considering percy has attacked him before—but i do think "very [dangerous]. to his enemies." does a good job of capturing that, it just doesn't go anywhere).

so, to condense all of this, ppl are idolizing percy in terms of both strength and morals and percy feels stifled by this knowing that he is not as strong or good as ppl think (and also by the fault that he was demonized prior and has corresponding low self-esteem bc of that lol). keep this in mind, i'm changing the topic.

in botl, percy's torture scene is used primarily to set up how powerful he is. he can cause an eruption that necessitates the evacuation of thousands of ppl and wake the biggest threat in greek mythos, but he would never know that if he wasn't back into a corner. bc that's not who he is. he shies away from power and titles. he wins his fights w strategy and very rarely relies on his powers to overpower his opponents.

just to clarify, i categorize percy's powers in two sorts of ways: involuntary and voluntary. involuntary is like speaking to sea creatures, healing in water, things that don't require a lot of energy/effort/focus. he's not scared of this. he's wary of the voluntary, powerful explosions, the things that set him apart from his peers. that's what i'm referring to in this section.

so, percy has to come to terms w the fact that he 1) blew up a mountain, 2) survived blowing up a mountain, and 3) woke typhon. and what does he say immediately after that?

he immediately deflects! he wasn't in control, it wasn't him that's powerful, it was an accident, and besides, he can't do it again bc he almost died. and what's even more interesting is the only time he uses his powers after this (in botl) is when grover asks him to stop the fire in the woods.

so, what lesson did percy actually take from mt saint helens? that he's dangerous. very interesting to use this teaching moment and have the protagonist come to the quote wrong unquote conclusion.

in hoh, we don't have a purpose for the torture scene. there's no significance to confronting how powerful percy is. percy is not addressing his self-sacrificing tendencies nor his propensity for bottling his emotions up. there's no questioning of p*rcabeth's relationship. there's no questioning of the gods. it's a cool scene w no narrative purpose.

so, take two. what is percy supposed to be learning from akhlys? how do we relate this to percy taking the wrong lesson from mt st helens?

at the end of botl, nico comes up w the river styx plan and percy takes almost a full year to agree to it. how much further ahead in the war would they have been if percy had accepted the curse sooner? how many fights could percy have won faster if he used his powers? if he trained his powers? if he trusted his powers?

there's a really interesting comparison w phorcys and akhyls where percy doesn't attempt to fight phorcys bc he assumes he won't be able to overpower him,

but w akhyls he tries anyway,

bc he's backed against a corner. and he succeeds.

percy is a character who very much embodies duality. i've talked abt this before wrt his loyalty being both his greatest strength and greatest weakness and how it clashes w his desire for freedom, but it's true for almost every trait. he's honest and manipulative. he's ruthless and merciful. he's kind and violent. he's looked up to and looked down upon. he's the saint and the scapegoat. etc etc. and percy responds to this by frequently trying to deny his quote worse unquote traits until they eventually bubble up and explode out of him. this is part of why juno calls him a loose-canon (which btw, i love. everyone has been treating him as a loose canon and no one on this side has the balls to say it until then, seven books in).

all this to say, *ethan voice* it's abt balance! this moment should've been abt percy confronting his unfair treatment! the idolization from his peers! the demonization of his flaws/disability!

thanks for coming to my tedtalk.

[speaknow-sw]

THE POET AND THE ROSE

Content : pure fluff, alternative ending.

A/N : some people requested it so I typed this in like 20min just for you. Hope it’ll bring you more happiness💕💀. @rayaskoalaland , @anakinca Here’s for youuuuu.

꧁ Alternative Ending ꧂

The house stood on a quiet hill, surrounded by wildflowers swaying in the breeze. The sun bathed the valley in golden light, casting shadows of children playing outside. Laughter rang out—pure, unrestrained joy. The Skywalker home was filled with life, with love, and with the echoes of a family that had found peace.

Anakin Skywalker stood at the edge of the yard, his arms crossed over his chest, watching his children run about. His dark hair was flecked with silver now, but his eyes remained as sharp and warm as ever. He smiled softly as his daughters took turns chasing each other, wooden swords in hand.

"You're too slow, James !" the eldest, Eleanor, teased her younger brother. At ten years old, Eleanor was already a force to be reckoned with—fierce, bold, and with a mind as sharp as her father’s. Her wild curls bounced as she spun, holding her wooden sword with surprising grace.

James, just three, stomped his foot in frustration. "I’m not slow! I’m strong!" he declared, puffing out his chest in defiance.

Anakin chuckled, stepping forward to kneel before his son. "And you’ll be stronger still, my little warrior. But strength comes with patience. Watch your sisters, learn from them." He ruffled Alaric’s dark hair. "And then show them what you’ve got."

James grinned, brandishing his tiny sword with determination.

Nearby, you watched with a soft smile, a basket of freshly picked herbs on your hip. You had always known Anakin would be a wonderful father, but seeing him now—with your children surrounding him, his laughter mingling with theirs—it filled you with an indescribable warmth.

Anakin turned to you, his eyes softening. "Come join us, my rose," he said, holding out his hand.

You placed the basket down and walked toward him, letting him pull you into his arms. His embrace was still as comforting and strong as it had been all those years ago. "They’re growing up so fast," you murmured.

"They are," Anakin agreed. "But I’m not ready to let them go just yet."

"Then don’t," you whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Later that evening, the children gathered around the fire as Anakin carved a small wooden sword for James. Each child had their own custom sword or toy, all carved by their father’s hands.

"Tell us a story, Papa!" begged your second daughter, Roselyn, her green eyes wide with excitement.

Anakin smirked, setting down the carving. "What story would you like to hear?"

"The one about how you met Mama!"

The children gasped in delight as Anakin began to tell the tale—how he had fallen for the princess who painted in secret, how he had crossed borders and battled armies for her. He embellished parts, of course, to make it more thrilling for the little ones, but the heart of the story was true.

"And in the end," he finished, pulling you close, "I vowed to protect her with my life. And I have never broken that vow."

Your youngest daughter, Lyanna, climbed into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Mama says you carved cribs for us when we were babies. Is that true?"

Anakin chuckled. "Of course. I carved a crib for each of you."

"And you sang to us?" asked your eldest, Eleanor.

Anakin nodded, his voice softening. "I sang to each of you, every night. And I’ll keep singing, for as long as you want to hear it."

One day, as you sat by the window, painting the wildflowers blooming outside, you heard the familiar sound of your children’s laughter. You looked out to see Anakin with all five of them, teaching Eleanor how to perfect her sword grip while Alaric clung to his leg, refusing to be left out.

"You’ll make a fine knight one day, James," Anakin told him. "But remember—strength is in the heart, not just the sword."

"And me?" Eleanor asked, grinning.

Anakin smiled proudly. "You’ll make a knight no king will dare cross. But more importantly, you’ll be kind. And that’s the strongest thing of all."

You stepped outside, watching as Anakin gathered all the children in his arms, spinning them around as they squealed with delight.

"Papa!" they cried. "Again!"

And Anakin laughed—a sound so full of life, it echoed through the hills, a melody of love, of peace, of everything he had fought so hard to protect.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the family sat together by the fire, wrapped in blankets, listening to Anakin’s stories once more. You rested your head on his shoulder, your heart full.

This was your legacy—a home filled with laughter, love, and life. Anakin’s vow had held true. He had never let anyone take you from him. And in the quiet moments, as your children drifted to sleep, he whispered promises of forever.

"I love you," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair.

"And I love you," you replied.

And in that moment, you both knew—there was no greater victory than that.

The court was bustling with activity. Nobles from across the land had gathered for the spring festival—a time of celebration and peace. Musicians played lively tunes, the scent of roses filled the great hall, and children ran freely through the corridors, their laughter echoing off the stone walls.

Anakin stood near the throne, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. His gaze flickered from the crowd to his children, scattered across the room. His eldest daughters, Eleanor and Roselyn, were holding court with a group of noblewomen, their heads held high, their smiles radiant. Even at ten and nine years old, they commanded attention like queens.

"They grow more like you every day," you whispered, slipping your arm through his.

Anakin chuckled, shaking his head. "Gods help us all, then. They’ll take my rank before they’re twenty."

You laughed, squeezing his arm. "And you wouldn’t mind one bit."

His expression softened as he looked at you. "Not if it means they’re safe and happy."

Across the hall, your third daughter, Elara, was trying (and failing) to teach her five-year-old sister, Lyanna, how to curtsy. Lyanna, ever defiant, crossed her arms. "Papa never makes me curtsy!"

Anakin grinned. "She’s not wrong."

You shot him a playful glare. "You’re spoiling her."

"Of course I am," he said proudly. "It’s my duty."

The festival continued, and as dusk fell, the little family gathered in the gardens for a more intimate celebration. Eleanor, ever the responsible one, helped set up the table while Roselyn chased fireflies with Lyanna. Elara sat on the grass, weaving a crown of daisies for her little brother, Alaric, who giggled as he tried to sit still.

"Papa!" Lyanna called, running up to Anakin with a wildflower bouquet. "I picked these for you!"

Anakin knelt, accepting the flowers with a dramatic flourish. "For me? Why, I must be the luckiest man in the kingdom."

Lyanna beamed. "You are!"

He scooped her up, twirling her around as she squealed in delight. "And you, my little lioness, are the fiercest in the land."

Elara tugged on his sleeve. "Papa, can I ride with you tomorrow when you go to the village?"

Anakin knelt to her level. "You want to come with me?"

She nodded eagerly. "I want to see the world!"

Anakin smiled softly, brushing a stray curl from her face. "The world can be dangerous, my tiny rose."

"But you’ll protect me," she said confidently.

He sighed, kissing her forehead. "Always."

The next day, court was in session. Anakin sat at the head of the hall, his children by his side. Eleanor sat straight-backed beside him, her eyes sharp and observant. Roselyn twirled a strand of her hair, bored with the proceedings, while Elara whispered stories to Lyanna to keep her entertained. Alaric sat on Anakin’s lap, his small hands gripping his father’s sword hilt.

"Papa," James whispered, "why do we have to be here?"

"Because one day, you’ll need to know how to lead," Anakin said gently.

"But I don’t want to be a general," James pouted.

Anakin chuckled. "Good. That means you’ll be a wise one."

As the court proceedings droned on, Anakin’s focus remained on his family. When a nobleman dared to suggest that his daughters were unfit to learn the art of swordsmanship, Anakin’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

"My daughters will wield swords if they wish," Anakin said, his voice like steel. "They’ll wield power. They’ll be warriors. And they’ll have no need of any man to defend them."

Eleanor smirked. "I’ll be the best swordswoman in the land."

"And I’ll be better than you," Roselyn teased.

"You wish!" Eleanor shot back.

Anakin leaned back in his chair, pride swelling in his chest as he watched his daughters. They were his legacy—not titles or lands, but fierce, intelligent, unstoppable girls who would shape the future.

As night fell, Anakin made his rounds through the castle, tucking each of his children into bed. He knelt by Eleanor’s bedside, brushing her hair back.

"Papa," she murmured sleepily, "will you tell me a story?"

He smiled. "Of course. What would you like to hear?"

"Tell me about Mama."

Anakin’s heart softened. "Your mother is the bravest woman I’ve ever known. She saved me in every way a man can be saved."

Eleanor smiled, her eyes fluttering closed. "I want to be like her."

"You already are, my rose."

In the next room, Roselyn and Elara were already asleep, their arms tangled around each other. Anakin kissed each of their foreheads, murmuring words of love before moving on.

In Lyanna’s room, he found her sitting up, clutching a wooden sword.

"Papa, can you teach me a new move tomorrow?" she asked.

Anakin chuckled. "Of course. But only if you promise to sleep now."

"Promise," Lyanna whispered, settling back into bed.

Finally, he reached James’ room. The little boy was already half-asleep, clutching the wooden lion Anakin had sewn for him.

"Papa," James mumbled, "will you always be here?"

Anakin knelt beside him, pressing a kiss to his son’s forehead. "Always."

As he left the room, you joined him in the hallway. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close.

"They’ll be great leaders one day," you whispered.

"They already are," Anakin said softly. "And I’ll make sure they always know how much they’re loved."

Later, as you both sat by the fire, Anakin pulled out one of the wooden cribs he had carved.

"Are you making another one?" you teased.

He laughed. "No. But I thought it might be nice to keep them. A reminder of when they were small."

You leaned against him, your hand resting over his. "They’ll always be our babies."

"And you’ll always be my rose," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. "And after all… we could make a sixth one." He grinned playfully.

The flames crackled, the warmth of the fire matching the warmth in your hearts. Outside, the stars shone brightly over the quiet castle—a symbol of the love, peace, and joy that now filled your lives.

The story of the poet and the rose had not ended in tragedy, but in love—eternal, unbreakable, and true.

[ask-papa-primo]

Ooc: someday i'll do word counts, but for now heres some vampire!primo rambles (his transformation)

It was late at night, the ministry bells alerted Primo that it was 2 a.m. but the old man crept around the halls of their chapel in peace. It was quiet, the only sound was his dress shoes echoing off the stone floor with every step as he walked to the podium at the front of the grand room. Something had been keeping the old man up lately, the sun felt uncomfortable to be in despite his love of gardening, some of his favorite meals were less appetizing than normal... and now he craved the warmth that pulsed underneath the skin of every sibling of sin and ghoul. The blood that fueled them and kept them living, Primo craved the metallic salty flavor, needed to feel it sliding down his throat as his next victim moans and whimpers at his feet. Surely that was not normal for a human?

Then again, Primo had always suspected something was off with him when he remembered his mother. The countless nights she had red stains on her night gowns, smeared across her lips like a crude lipstick. Nihil was a freak to say the least and his taste in women never truly changed and growing up with her had changed Primo's outlook on life drastically. But now? With these feelings and urges... he half wondered if the dark lord that his mother and her cultists worshipped might have actually taken a shining to the old man and brought him back.

Ah and that was another thing, his age. When he fed from that first sibling of sin it made him look years younger than when his life was taken from him, but since that last feeding with the fool that attacked his beloved Plasma, Primo has not touched anymore blood despite the urge to test his theory. But now, all alone with no one but Lucifer, Satan, and the moon to judge him for his actions, Primo pulled a bottle of human blood that he might have drained from a few stray trespassers. He pulled the stopper out of the wine bottle and sniffed it, the sweet, tantalizing aroma of the blood called to him and before he knew it half of the bottle had been chugged. He pulled the glass away and set it down with a breathy groan as the taste settled on his tongue and down his throat, oh Primo could feel the liquid creeping through his veins, spreading all across his body as a warmth began to settle in his bones, something twitching with interest below the belt of his dress pants.

"More... ah fuck I need- hahh I need more." The breathy growl reverberated off the seemingly empty walls as he brought the bottle back to his lips to polish it off like a starved man in the desert.

But this time, when he set the bottle down to catch his breath, there was an audibly crack in the old man's back. He cried out and fell to his knees, breathing heavily as a tearing pain spread through his shoulder blades, the sound of flesh tearing, muscles and bones reconstructing was awful and loud in the silence of the night. Primo looked up and saw he was on his knees before a statue of Baphomet, fitting as he went through this, he thought. Finally after what felt like an eternity of kneeling on the cold stones, the pain slowly ebbed away from within the man's shoulders and he glanced back to try and see what had happened.

Only to be met with the sight of bat like wings hanging slack by Primo's side. Hooked claws sprouted from the very tips of both wings, the thin skin-like membrane that spread across the bones was almost see through... and the craving for blood was worse now, almost uncontrollable.

( @ask-plasma-ghuleh feel free to join if you'd like >:] )

(And credit to @ridley-emeritus for the vampire!peemo ideas)