#perhaps. perhaps i will make it happen. one day

[vxlentinescookies]

ohmygosh is it possible you could write something for past!shadow milk cookie x (fem) reader?

perhaps there's a moment where the reader returns to his spire/kingdom after visiting her family that lives afar, but she comes back to him all wounded after being robbed from some bandits?

i just want to see this guy being absolutely distraught over not knowing this happened to us, but we reassure him with gentle touches, kisses, and comforting words 😭💖

→ ❛The Old Days: A robbery❜

→ Pairing ; Shadow Milk Cookie x Fem!Reader → Quote ; ❛❛You’re my all and everything, you know that, right?❜❜ → Genre ; Headcanons → A/N ; Here you go!

It was a normal day like always, it just seemed to be one of those days where things had come right and would pass right as they do, but…

“(y/n)! Beloved!” A voice would call out to you as you arrived at the Spire of Knowledge, your steps becoming hurried more and more as you approach it before kneeling by the side of your beloved, Shadow Milk Cookie.

“Milkie, what happened?” You ask him with worry as you rush to his side, before he’d speak again, between heavy breaths. “You look hurt…”

“I was robbed—Some bandits came and tried to rob us!” He’d say, clearly distraught as you sighed and helped him up “My sweetheart…”

“Come, lets get you all patched up, ok?” You say, softly, looking at him with a sweet gaze before lifting him up towards the stairs of the spire.

Being robbed was something Shadow Milk couldnt have thought of… happening in his life!

Yet here we are, moments after the events with you bringing him up with a warm smile and a cozy air.

Rising into your shared bedroom, you make sure everything is secure before allowing him to rest into the bed before you’d climb to his side, smiling.

And you’d whisper sweet nothings, gentle smiles and words and sweet whispers, things to keep him calm…

“Breathe, angel, breathe with me…” You’d say at one point, once in bed as you held his hands in yours with a warm smile “Feel free to lean on me…”

And he’d do so, leaning into your chest, feeling the soft heartbeat of your heart, it was everything he needed to feel calm already, despite being so distraught before, your scent and self calmed him instantly always.

“Oh sweetheart, what I would do without you…” He’d say, setting his face on your breast with a soft smile as his hair tickled your skin “You’re my all and everything, you know that, right?”

“Of course… Of course I know…”

But you know dreams are dreams, still, you cling to it like your life depended on it.

Your hands would caress his hair, softly, and your eyes would gaze over him as he cuddled to you, holding you close.

He was still distraught, that much wasnt a lie, he was still aching over what was stolen and lost.

But with you by his side… How could he ever feel lost…?

… Right, how could a jester like him ever feel lost…

[multi-fandom-imagine]

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐞 || 𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧 ||

A/n: on this kick again 🤭

If there was one thing Theodore James Bridgerton loved almost as much as his parents, it was his Uncle Colin. And with all the love a two-year-old could possess, Theo had made it his personal mission in life to scare Colin Bridgerton at every possible opportunity.

No one really knew how it started. Perhaps it was the infamous paint-on-the-face incident, or maybe it was simply that Theo found Uncle Colin’s reactions particularly hilarious. Either way, a war had been declared, and only one Bridgerton knew about it—and it certainly was not Colin.

The First Attack – The Surprise Under the Desk

It had been an unusually peaceful afternoon at Bridgerton House. Colin was in his study, completely engrossed in writing in his travel journal. With a quill in hand and deep in thought, he failed to notice the tiny figure creeping beneath his desk.

You, watching from the hallway, silently gasped as you spotted your son slithering like a little gremlin into the study, his small body barely making a sound as he tucked himself underneath Colin’s desk.

You barely had enough time to think as Colin, blissfully unaware of the danger lurking beneath him, dipped his quill into the ink, sighing deeply. “Ah, peace and quiet at la—”

“RAAAAHHH!”

A small but ferocious scream erupted from beneath the desk as Theo latched onto Colin’s leg, shaking it with all his two-year-old strength.

Colin let out an undignified yelp, nearly knocking over the entire ink bottle. His chair scraped violently against the floor as he practically levitated out of his seat.

“GOOD LORD—”

The entire house erupted with laughter as Colin clutched his chest, looking down to find a giggling little monster rolling onto the floor in pure joy.

You covered your mouth, shaking with laughter as Anthony walked by, not even surprised at this point. He paused, looked inside the study, saw Colin looking like he’d just seen a ghost, and simply nodded approvingly at Theo.

“Well done, son,” Anthony murmured as he walked past.

Colin pointed at the little menace, still rolling with laughter on the floor. “HE HAS NO FEAR.”

Theo gasped between giggles. “BOO, UNCLE COLIN!” The two year old oblivious to his Uncle's plight's

Colin groaned, rubbing his face. “Oh, it’s going to be a long few years.”

The Next Attack – The Closet Ambush

Colin was paranoid after the desk incident, but not paranoid enough. Not according to his younger sister at least.

Days later, Colin made his way toward the coat closet to retrieve his jacket before heading out to meet Benedict. What he didn’t know was that Theo had been placed in the closet moments before by Eloise, who had gleefully encouraged his schemes.

The door creaked open.

Colin reached inside, humming to himself—

“ROAR!”

A tiny blur launched itself at his legs.

Colin screamed.

Theo, laughing hysterically, wrapped his tiny arms around Colin’s knees while Eloise collapsed against the wall wheezing.

Anthony, walking by yet again, paused, took one look at the scene, and nodded with great approval.

“Impressive.”

Colin, clutching the doorframe for dear life, turned to Anthony, utterly betrayed. “Do you encourage this?”

Anthony smirked, scooping Theo up. “I’d be a terrible father if I didn’t.”

Theo, still giggling in his father’s arms, pointed at Colin. “I got you, Uncle Colin!”

Colin dragged a hand down his face. “Yes, yes, again.”

Eloise, still laughing breathlessly, grinned. “I think it’s hilarious.”

Colin groaned. “He’s two. What happens when he gets faster?”

Anthony’s smirk widened. “Then, dear brother, I suggest you start running.”

The Ultimate Attack – The Ghost of Aubrey Hall

Colin thought he had seen the worst of Theo’s antics.

He was wrong of course.

One late evening at Aubrey Hall, Colin was making his way toward the library when the candles suddenly flickered. The hallway was eerily silent, save for the faint sound of…

Giggling?

Colin paused, eyes narrowing. “…Hello?”

Silence.

Then—

A tiny white sheet with two poorly cut holes for eyes appeared in the doorway.

“OOOOOoooooOOOOHHHHHH!”

Colin nearly collapsed against the wall, his soul leaving his body.

“NO.”

The tiny ghost toddled forward, arms raised menacingly.

“BOO!

Colin flinched so hard that he stumbled backward, crashing straight into the wall.

Theo, delighted beyond belief, ripped the sheet off, his giggles shaking his tiny body.

“I GOT YOU, UNCLE COLIN! AGAIN!”

Benedict walked by, took one look at the scene—Colin collapsed on the floor, looking like he had seen death itself, Theo squealing with victory—and burst out laughing so loudly that you heard it from two rooms away.

Anthony entered next, arms crossed, shaking his head with pride.

“I swear, Colin, it’s as if you’re not even trying to defend yourself,” Anthony remarked.

Colin, still breathing heavily, glared at his older brother. “I am at war with a toddler, Anthony.”

Theo clapped his hands with joy. “UNCLE COLIN SAID WAR!”

Anthony smirked. “I’d surrender now if I were you.”

Benedict chuckled. “Or else you might not survive the next attack.”

Theo, eyes twinkling, pointed directly at Colin. “More boo laterrrr.”

Colin groaned, dragging a hand over his face, the man's heart still pounding in his chest.

“I have to sleep with one eye open for the next ten years, don’t I?”

Eloise, now arriving and hearing everything, smirked. “At least ten years.”

Colin sighed dramatically. “I hate all of you.”

Theo beamed. “Love you, Uncle Colin!”

Colin stared at him for a long moment before exhaling in defeat. “…Love you too, little menace.”

And so, the war between Theo and Uncle Colin continued—because for all his suffering, Colin secretly loved the chaos and most of all, Colin loved his adorable little nephew.

[sangwookisser]

⭒AFTER HOURS- HWANG JUN-HO⭒

cw: switch dynamics, fighting, choking, piv, fem! reader, guard! reader, this is a bit non canon as junho already got his square mask before confronting you, creampies, praise, choking, not beta'd

a/n: thanos pt. 2 in the works cuties send me asks on what you'd like to see him do to you!

You screwed up today.

You'd worked here so long that every time you'd shot a player, or moved a body, or ordered a circle mask to clean up the area after a game, it felt unconscious, like a menial chore. Perhaps you'd gotten too careless and forgotten your place, because you'd frozen on the spot when a player, a woman, young and pleading and desperate, had crawled against your leg and pleaded with you to let her live after she'd cracked a side on her star Dalgona.

You froze.

A careless mistake. She'd taken your hesitation as an opportunity to grab your rifle and wrench it from your hands, trying to shoot you in the head and missing, before she managed to hit a soldier in the arm that'd been rushing over to pry the weapon from her hands. The entire playground was a mess now, with yells of terror and people cracking their Dalgona due to stress, all because of you.

Now you were following a very tall, quiet square guard to a private room, only meant for very important matters. no cameras are placed in here. He locks the door behind you and turned to face you. You hung your head, fighting the urge to wring your hands.

"Look at me."

You look up at the sound of a deep, distorted voice, placing your hands behind your back so you could hide the way they're shaking. He doesn't move, watching you through the thick black plastic of his mask, assessing you.

"Explain."

You inhale shakily, unable to hide your nervousness. You knew that you wouldn't have been brought here if you weren't about to receive a terrible punishment. There was no one watching, and the games were long over for the day. You pause for a moment, trying to find your voice, but he speaks again.

"Do you forget yourself, soldier? You answer promptly when asked to. The longer you try to wrack your brain to find a reason why you fucked up today, the less ill believe your stupid excuses."

You bristle at the condescending tone of his voice. You don't like being spoken to in such a way, even if its by a superior. Still, you can't come up with a good reason as to why you froze. Perhaps you'd seen a glimmer of yourself in the way the woman pleaded and searched for mercy.

You were weak and vulnerable once too. She'd cracked a part of the walls you'd built up around yourself to try and make killing players easier. "I'm just trying to collect myself, sir." You say, your tone a little too sharp for his liking.

"Collect yourself?" Jun-ho says in return. "I'm not playing games with you, soldier."

"And neither am I," You snap back, frustrated and scared enough to act with your emotions and not logically. You're not thinking about the repercussions of talking back to a superior. "I made one mistake in the five years I've been here, and you're just attacking m-"

"Take off your mask."

The order sent a chill down your spine. You weren't ever supposed to show your face around here, not even to your superiors. It usually meant you were about to take a bullet to the head.

You look around anxiously to try and spot any cameras, but most of them are turned off for this location since it is meant to be vacant right now. You step back and finally speak.

"S-sir, I can't. It's against policy."

"Don't give me any more bullshit. Take off your mask. that's an order." You grit your teeth but don't budge, refusing to go along with the inevitable that happens when you show your face. He growls and raises his hand, his pistol at your head in a second. "Now, triangle."

You let out a shaky exhale and reluctantly peel off your mask, letting it drop to the floor, along with the balaclava underneath.

There's a tense moment of silence as he looks you over, and he nearly groans in appreciation of how cute you are. Jun-ho expected an old hag with nothing to lose, not... you.

His eyes roam over the wide, sparkly eyes staring up at him and the soft frown on your face, as well as the way your lashes skim your cheekbones when you blink, your soft, pretty hair, your full lips...

You take his hesitation as an opportunity and knock the gun out of his hands, shoving him back and debating on running or staying to fight him.

He lunges to grab you, and you aim a kick to his chest to try and steer him off course again, but he grabs your ankle and kicks the back of your other leg to make you crumple. You curse, reeling back a bit as you stand straight again, punching his stomach to make him let go of you.

He grunts, but doesn't relent, so you aim a few more punches to his chest and stomach, but he grabs your arm and twists it, letting go of your leg and shoving you against the wall of the room, pressing your chest against the wall. You scowl, struggling fervently, but its hard to when he's a head taller and has the strength of a gorilla.

He pauses for a bit, smug at how easy it was to beat you when you had the advantage of disorienting him by making the first move.

"There, was that so hard? You're making me feel like a monster. Pretty girls like you deserve to be worshipped, not roughhoused like this." You growl at the implication, aching to demand what exactly he means, but you figured that if you play into the act a little bit, you might be able to get your advantage back.

You sniffle, making the slightly-exaggerated sounds of someone about to cry. "I-I know sir," You choke out, your voice breaking. "I... I d-didn't mean for it to come to this, I just... d-don't wanna b-be punished or killed for one mistake, I didn't mean to hesitate today, really. P-please don't kill me..." You make the soft sounds of crying, trying to imitate the feeling of desperation and hopelessness.

His heart aches uncomfortably, and he feels your little body shaking with tears. He feels bad now. He just meant to scare you a bit so he could get information about this place, but you attacked him, so he had to do this to you. But it feels wrong. He can imagine your sweet little face scrunched up and flushed with tears, and he sighs, turning you around slowly so he can help wipe your face and soothe you.

You don't wait a second, delighted that your plan worked to some degree, enough that he was willing to let go of you long enough for you to drive your knee straight into his crotch.

"Fuck!" he curses, doubling over. "Shit, you fucking maniac!" You get the rifle off your back that all triangles are equipped with, astounded that he didn't disarm you at the first opportunity, and you shove the barrel under his chin.

"On your knees, square." You sneer at him, and he grits his teeth, dropping down to his knees with his hands raised.

"You're fucking crazy." He says angrily, panting as he massages his aching privates, his gaze roaming over your pretty face, and he scoffs, in disbelief that he, a trained cop, ended up in this situation.

"Now you take off your mask too. So we're in this together." You say coldly, nudging the gun at his neck. He freezes for a bit. He didn't know what you'd do if you found out he was a stowaway posing as a guard, and so he hesitated, but with a gun to his face, what more could he do?

Slowly, he took off his mask, letting the black plastic clatter to the floor as he pushed thick black hair out of his eyes, eying you warily.

You too, as he did, paused for a minute at the sight of his face. You didn't expect your manager to be so handsome. His features were soft and handsome, like some pretty boy you'd see on TV, not at your feet with your rifle to his head.

"Who are-"

He took a dive for your legs, realizing he couldn't go through the process of revealing everything to you. Even showing you his face was going too far. You squealed, tumbling to the ground, and he stuck his hand under your head so you wouldn't crack it open under the concrete, and he quickly straddled you, putting one hand around your throat and moving the other to hold your hands together above your head.

"The hell's your problem, huh?" He sneered, holding you down without much struggle even as you thrashed under him. "You don't listen. If you just shut up and answered a few questions, you'd be out of here in no time."

You choke, panting a bit, and he squeezes your neck a little tighter, fascinated at the way your cheeks warm and your eyes darken. His cock twitches a bit in his pants, excited by the way you look so helpless. The way you're squirming under him and rubbing your body unintentionally against his dick isn't helping. It's already tender from you hitting it with your knee earlier, and his hypersensitivity is just riling him up more and more.

"Shit..." He murmurs, loosening his grip just enough for you to get a big gulp of air, before he puts the same pressure on your neck once more.

"I'm not afraid of you," you hissed, despite the nervous flutters in your stomach. His eyes narrowed, and he leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours.

"I don't care. You put yourself in this situation, and now look where you are." He mocks you, no longer caring about your feelings after your earlier deception. Your lips press together in a scowl.

You let out an infuriated growl, trying to shift your body up to attack him, maybe bite him, but he slams you back down with his grip around your neck. Your vision sparkles around the corners, and you pant, gasping weakly for air, and he lets go just before you pass out.

"Let... me go." You wheeze, inhaling unsteadily. He leans closer, about to say more, when you shove your lips against his. It's not a good tactic, and you hate doing it, but it's a last resort, and you needed to wind him so you could get your upper hand back.

To your disbelief, he moans, his grip on you loosening so he can lean down and kiss you deeply. He's pleasantly surprised, to say the least.

You're gorgeous, of course, and with the soft taste of strawberries that linger on your mouth, he's not complaining at all. He squeezes your face in his hands, rubbing his tongue over your lips to try and coax your mouth to open. You grit your teeth, annoyed by how enjoyable this is.

His lips are soft, and he's good at kissing. You enjoy the way he parts his lips and slots his mouth over yours to search for the best angle. However, you try to stay present enough to try and find the right moment to throw him off you. He, however, was lost. He's managed to get his tongue in your mouth, and he groans at your taste, one hand going to stroke your hair softly as he rolls his tongue over yours slowly and sloppily, almost savoring the feeling.

You grunt, squirming a bit as his long tongue pushes deeper in your mouth. He's getting way too excited for someone who was just trying to suffocate you, and you start to worry that you made a mistake by riling him up like this.

Your suspicions are confirmed when you feel something hard and thick poke your thighs, and he lets out a full-blown moan into your mouth, his hips beginning to rut against you. You've had enough. With as much effort you can muster, you bite his lip hard enough for it to be uncomfortable, and he lets out a yelp, smoothing his tongue over his now bleeding lip.

You desperately try to push him off you. His eyes are wide and shiny, like a puppy aching for a treat, and he pants a bit, before frowning. "I want more," He says gruffly, upset at your denial. He leans down, wanting to kiss you again, but you hook your legs around him and flip him over, using the element of surprise to your advantage.

He tries his best to try and buck you off, but once you get his hands pinned beside his head, he stops struggling, staring up at you with wide, glassy eyes, his breath coming out in tiny gasps.

"W-wha..." He starts weakly, but you tug his hair to shut him up. He doesn't oblige, moaning at the feeling and returning to humping you, his hips thrusting up against your ass as you straddle him.

"Stop it," You hiss angrily. "Acting like a fucking dog, have some shame."

He doesn't listen, his hands clenching into fists as he aches with the need to touch.

"F-fuck me..." he breathes out, and you try to put your hand over his mouth to shut him up, but you can still hear his loud groans as he ruts against you, dry humping you through his pants. "Fuck me, please." He insists. You squeeze his wrists with frustration, pissed off by his excessive neediness, but you start to lift his shirt, your hair tickling his cheek as you lean down. You pull it above his head, reveling in the sight of his soft, creamy white skin, and plush pink nipples.

He shivers as the cool air of the room hits his skin, and you slowly start to drag your fingers up his chest.

Unfortunately for you, that, paired with the constant feeling of his clothed cock rubbing against the juicy fat of your ass causes him to still, and he tears his hands out of your grip with little to no effort, places them on your butt, and rubs you fervently against his dick until his hips stutter, and he squeezes you tight.

"Oh G-god... mmh, fuck, fuck... fuck... 'm cumming, im cumming now..."

You can feel him throbbing against you as the sticky liquid of his cum stains his pants. You look down at him as he slumps down, keening loudly as he tries to catch his breath. his chest heaves hard.

You look down at him in shock, scowling down at him. "You dirty little..."

He doesn't let you finish your words, flipping you over.

Panting harshly, he loomed over you, his eyes wild with desperate, primal hunger. His large hands roamed feverishly over your curves, grasping and squeezing at the fabric of your guard uniform as if trying to rip them away from your body. "Please, baby... I need... I need to feel you... all of you..." he babbled, his voice ragged with urgency.

Fumbling fingers made quick work of the zippers, scattering them haphazardly across the floor. Jun-ho's breathing grew louder, more labored, as more and more of the your soft, supple skin was revealed to his ravenous gaze. "Please... let me... let me see you... touch you... taste you..." he begged, his words spilling out in a whining, desperate litany.

Hie hips undulated, grinding his clothed erection against the your core, seeking some measure of relief from the throbbing ache that consumed him. "I'm so fucking... so fucking desperate for you..." he whined, his hands finally succeeding in baring your breasts to his hungry eyes.

"My god... look at you... so fucking perfect..." Jun-ho dipped his head, peppering your newly exposed skin with desperate, open-mouthed kisses and sharp nips. You moan, squirming under him at the unfamiliar yet desirable sensation. He's worshipping you, obsessing over your body

"Tell me... tell me you want it too..." he urged breathlessly between kisses, his hands roaming lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your pants, your panties. "Tell me you need my cock...almost as much as I need to be inside your tight, wet little cunt..."

His desperation was palpable, his body trembling with the force of his desire as he awaited your response, praying you would give him the green light to plunge forward and claim you. He shoves his pants down, his slick cock, tender from his recent orgasm, hits his belly, and you try to sit up.

"Fuck, you bastard, get off," You try to protest, to hide how bad you want it despite the risk of you losing your job or being killed for doing something so reckless and idiotic. But your pussy can't hide how you crave to have his fat cock deep inside you.

His mouth watered at the intoxicating scent of your arousal, ripe and heady and consuming. He lavishes your breasts with desperate, open-mouthed kisses, his tongue swirling around one stiff peak, lapping and suckling greedily, before switching to its twin, determined to taste every inch of your succulent flesh. You cry out, keening dumbly. You hate how good it feels.

"Mmm... you taste... fuck, you taste incredible..." he praises between slurping kisses, sending vibrations tingling through your skin.

Below, Jun-ho's aching cock jerked and throbbed against your soaked pussy. Each twitch of his sensitive flesh against your core drew a guttural groan from the man's throat, and a soft whine from you, his hips rutting instinctively, chasing more of that exquisite friction.

"You're so pretty," he panted, the words tumbling out in a desperate, incoherent jumble.

He could feel the heat radiating off your cunt, could sense your body's readiness, yet still you held back, trying to retain some semblance of control.

He whimpered in frustration, his cock pulsing urgently against you as he gazed up at you with pleading, lust-glazed eyes. "Tell me... fuck, tell me you want it too..." he rasped, his voice breaking on the desperate words. "I can't... I can't hold back much longer..."

For a moment, you remained silent, your expression an unreadable mask. But then, with a sharp inhale and a barely audible hiss of air through gritted teeth, you finally uttered the word he craved to hear. "Yes... " you gasped, your voice tight with barely restrained desire. "Yes, I... I want it..."

Relief crashed through him like a tidal wave, and he released a shuddering sigh, his body relaxing slightly as the tension drained from his muscles.

And then, with a careful, deliberate movement, he positions the dripping, weeping tip of his cock at the entrance to your pussy.

With a deep, shuddering breath, he began to press forward, his hips inching closer, the sensitive crown of his cock parting your slick, swollen folds, eliciting a shaky gasp from you as your hands fly to his broad shoulders.

"Ohhh... fuck..." He groans, his voice a low, drawn-out rumble as he felt the exquisite, silken walls of your pussy clenching around the invading head of his dick.

You're so incredibly tight, so deliciously snug, that he had to pause. The sensation was almost too much to bear, the way your body resisted, then yielded, then resisted again, as if trying to suck him in deeper, to swallow him whole.

His hands clench on your hips, fingers digging into the supple flesh hard enough to leave bruises. Sweat beads on his brow as he focused all his concentration, every ounce of his willpower, on the slow, tortuous process of sinking into you.

Inch by excruciating inch, he invaded you, feeling your slick, plush walls flutter and clench around his sensitive cock, as if trying to draw him impossibly deeper.

"Goddamn... " Jun-ho groans, his breath coming in harsh, tortured pants as he finally bottomed out, his pelvis flush against yours, causing his heavy, full balls to nestle perfectly into the curve of your ass.

He could feel every ridge, every vein, every throbbing, pulsing beat of his flesh as it was engulfed in your sloppy little pussy. It took every shred of his control not to cum then and there, to spill his seed deep inside you. "Atta girl... squeeze me just like that..." He murmurs lowly, beginning to withdraw, feeling your walls drag against him, before plunging back in, starting a deep, deliberate rhythm.

Unwillingly, your composure starts to waver, your cool demeanor cracking. Soft, breathy moans leave your lips insistently, making his cock twitch inside you. "Y-you sound so pretty, you know that?" He chokes out through moans, thrusting steadily into you. "So good... S-so good for me, baby. I got you."

He talks you through it, feeling you flutter and clench around his sensitive flesh, as if trying to draw him even deeper. "Shit... fuck... so fucking tight..." he grunted, his hips pumping in a slow, deep rhythm that had your body jerking and bouncing beneath him.

You could feel your mind starting to go fuzzy, your thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind as the pleasure mounted. "T-too deep, so deep..." you say, your words slurring together as you struggled to form coherent sentences.

Your fingers scrabbled at his back, nails digging into his sweat-slicked skin as you clung to him, anchoring yourself against him. Jun-ho could feel your body starting to tremble, could sense the desperation building in your touch and your breathy little cries. They spurred him on, urging him to thrust harder and deeper.

"That's it... fuck... take it... take my cock... take every fucking inch..." he growled, his voice a low, feral rumble that sent shivers down your spine. His mind could barely process the feeling of your pussy clenching around his cock, watching the way he'd stretch you out with every thrust.

The obscene sound of your arousal filled his ears, each deep, powerful thrust eliciting a lewd plap, plap, plap as your dripping walls struggled to accommodate his girth. "Fuck, listen to her... listen to your greedy little pussy sucking me in. She doesn't want me to go anywhere, does she? Wants my cum to fill her right up." he bends down, panting hotly against your neck, his lips and teeth and tongue working over your sensitive skin, leaving a trail of marks and kisses.

He could feel you trembling, could sense you trying to hide your face in the crook of your shoulder, no doubt an instinctive move to hide how good you feel, but he would not allow it. He hooks his hand under your chin, tilting your face back towards him, forcing you to meet hungry gaze. "Don't you hide from me now," he cooed, his voice low and rough with desire. "I want to see your cute little face."

You whimper, a deep blush covering your cheeks as you were forced to confront the his blatant, almost reverent adoration of you. "I'm not... I'm not cute..." you protested weakly, even as your hips begin to move up to meet his, seeking more of that delicious friction.

"You're not?" he asks, punctuating his words with a sharp, deep thrust that had you seeing stars. "But look at you... taking my cock like you were made for it... like your perfect little pussy was molded just for me..." His hand slid down, fingers splaying possessively over your lower belly, feeling it clench and quiver as he filled you so completely. "That's right, baby... this is your pussy's purpose... to milk my cock dry."

He could feel you starting to tense, your thighs beginning to quake around his pistoning hips, your belly fluttering beneath his splayed fingers. Your breathy moans and whimpers rose in pitch and volume, blending with Jun-ho's guttural groans and ragged pants to create a symphony of carnal bliss that echoed off the walls.

"Fuck, yes... that's it, baby... Come with me." the man urged breathlessly as he drank in the exquisite sight of you lost in ecstasy. "I want to feel this greedy little cunt squeeze the cum out of my cock. You miss a drop, and we do it all over again, you hear me?" He delivers a sharp snap of his hips, a brutal thrust that buried him to the hilt in you, kissing your womb so sweetly.

You size up suddenly, letting out a cry as your pussy clenched down hard, rhythmically, milking his throbbing cock for all it was worth as you rode out the crest of your climax.

The man threw back his head with a groan, a feral sound, as he felt your velvety walls spasming around him, sucking him deeper, urging him to fill you with his cum. He slams into you one last time before his own release overtook him. His cock jerked and pulsed, erupting as he pumped you full of his hot, thick seed, painting your insides white.

You collapsed together in a tangle of sweat-slicked limbs and heaving chests, the aftershocks of their shared climax leaving you both breathless. You could only cling to him as he leaned down and pressed a gentle little kiss to your temple.

"Don't try and beat me up ever again."

"Fuck you."

"Just did, baby."

[diushek]

One day, Shen Qingqiu comes from the city with a little baby in his arms. He says: "His mother died during childbirth and I am taking care of him." He names the child Shen Yuan when he is old enough to give him a name, and the child grows up in Qing Jing.

Everyone, absolutely everyone, believes that Shen Qingqiu is the biological father of that child. Only have to LOOK at them both and see the resemblance: the same eyes, the same hair, the same facial structure, the same lips, even the same angry pout. Rumors - Shen Qingqiu had a child with a prostitute who died and now he is taking care of him!! - are open secrets.

Shen Qingqiu, as usual, ignores them. He cares for his little one, raising him with the closest thing other Peak Lords can call love. Impeccable robes, the best meals, the best early education. Shen Yuan grows up as a polite, gentle, kind-hearted, sweet-faced child. He frees insects before killing them, isn't afraid to dirty his robes if he must go after someone, and has an avid interest in beasts and monsters beyond comprehension. The Peak Lords jokingly think: this child has taken his father's face and surely the good heart of his mother, may she rest in peace.

When he comes of age, he doesn't even have to dig a hole to be chosen for Qing Jing Peak - everyone knows that Shen Qingqiu has already made a place for him there. However, Shen Yuan insists on doing it on his own! He wants to earn his place. The Peak Lords respect him for it, and there are various interests, but he still ends up in Qing Jing Peak.

And Shen Yuan becomes Shen Qingqiu's clear first disciple. He is a skilled scholar, excellent martial artist who is not afraid to tear someone rude with foul words, but with an almost natural disposition to be kind, sweet and gentle with those who deserve and require it.

It is then that Luo Binghe arrives at Qing Jing Peak.

The Peak Lords hear of the rumors and they spread them like pollen in spring: apparently there has been a HUGE discussion between Shen Qingqiu and his spoiled son! Something involving a child with water burns, a beating, and a woodshed. No one understands what happened, but a day later, Shen Yuan completely disappeared from the Cang Qiong Sect.

And he has taken a young disciple with him.

Shen Qingqiu begins to act as if he never had a son - as if his whole life has been all about him, hostile and unpleasant. His mood is worse than ever and his cruelty is undeniable. No one understands what has happened between father and son, but these are rumors that even if whispered, bring the very bad faces of Shen Qingqiu. And no one wants to be behind Shen Qingqiu's wrath when it is unleashed.

(Shen Yuan had transmigrated. Into a baby! Into Shen Qingqiu's son! Yes, indeed his memories had been gradually unlocked, thank god. It would have been so weird to be a baby with the mindset of an adult... And he had believed, for a long time, that perhaps Shen Qingqiu could change. That loving him and caring for him would make him better when Luo Binghe reached Cang Qiong.

Unfortunately, that was not the case.

So, Shen Qingqiu can hate him for this reason if he wants! But Shen Yuan has to leave there and take Luo Binghe with him. He will teach him cultivation and do everything to make him become a powerful cultivator before his demonic seal is unleashed, he will do everything possible to prevent him from the Endless Abyss, and will prevent Shen Qingqiu from being turned into a human stick.

Probably, a single night of punishment and humiliation wasn’t enough for Luo Binghe to want revenge so hard. Actually?? He just would save the lives of all his martial uncles and his father in the process to kindly educate Luo Binghe and make him as powerful yet happy as possible. They should thank him!! He's sacrificing himself, his comforts, and his reputation to save everyone's asses!!!)

...

(Although Shang Qinghua had wanted to give Shen Qingqiu a son - a magical pollen pregnancy between Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu, which Shen Qingqiu would NEVER tell Yue Qingyuan was his child until the very last moment - for the drama and secondary revenge and angst 7/9, that had been a damn draft!!! He didn't even get to develop the background of Yue Qingyuan and Shen Jiu!!! And now that son ran away with his Protagonist!? System, what's going on!? Why do HE make sure the Endless Abyss arc be completed!? He doesn't even fucking know where the protagonist is!!! System have mercy on AND HELP!!!)

[holyguardian]

The flow of conversation danced around what had happened and the aftermath. Aerith and Somnus seemed to have a silent agreement, such topics weren't for the open air. Instead they filled in their silences with other things, ranging between etiquette when they arrived to how many of the chocobos would stray in their caravan line to snap at overhanging fruit.

With every curious observation, she had a small story to tell. When Alba was reaching the top of a large hill overlooking her home, she pointed to some peculiar white trees without any leaves in the distance. She explained that was their ancient forest, and where her family communed with the Lifestream.

Their conversation became more and more like that. Aerith pointed out landmarks to him whether he asked about them first or not. It only felt right, given this would be their last opportunity for such a conversation. The next time they marched it would be for a war...

... though it was tough to let her mind sink down with such thoughts. Somehow people could still pick her out from the crowd, even though she wore a simple dress in the same style as her maids, and her hair was braided back simply, there was nothing elaborate on her person whatsoever.

She smiled and she waved, ever a friendly face. Though that scream drew out a laugh from her and she nodded 'yes'. It was better that people thought she was riding with her bodyguard for now. It stuck in the back of her mind that not all the faces they would come across would be friendly. Some meant them harm.

That was likely why her father fell back to ride alongside her and Somnus. Shielding that side, while Gilgamesh silently moved to shield the other.

Soon the curious eyes and waving gave way to rows and rows of tents lining the outer perimeter of the castle walls. Their assembling army was so great, the numbers couldn't be contained solely within the barracks. There were rows upon rows of soldiers who stood to attention as the caravan made its slow procession.

The cobblestone streets were lined three rows deep either side with more soldiers who waited for their arrival. The crowds of townsfolk were kept at bay, an order from the Queen, the barricade wasn't usually so widened.

Once they passed under the massive gate, one that divided the castle from the rest of the capital, Aerith cast a look to Somnus. "Follow dad, we will show you the chocobo stables. My family will receive us in the inner-palace, so we have a little time to make sure everyone else is being settled where they need to go." Alba especially. Though she was a brave soul, even her cheeks were puffed out a little curious, eyeing the new surroundings. She must have been able to smell the stables before they even arrived.

No doubt Somnus had a similar feeling stirring. His home? It was open, rolling hills, wide-spread out lands with single storied dwellings. Their castle on the other hand was a massive storied structure, of multiple floors, the spawled out spaces were kept on the outer walls.

"Here we are. Alba can have this stall," Aerith gestured, "It's one that connects to the chocoboyard, she can be cozy in here in the nighttime, but during the day she can stretch her legs in the royal paddock. The gate over there," she pointed, "ride her through that one and you'll come out on the west wall, there's a worn-in dirt path that will lead through the outer fields to Queenswoods. It's one of the best spots for chocobos to scratch around in the dirt and forage, the stablehands often take out our flock for some good old mischief and dirt baths."

Aerith eased down from Alba's saddle with a helping hand. She took her time to explain where everything was kept for Somnus to care for his feathered companion, though perhaps the more exciting part was the varied selection of chocobo feed. Roots, buds, fruits and vegetables, a long-running joke was how 'the chocobos ate better than some of the Kinglands'.

"I think that's about everything. I hope this is okay for you, sweetpea?" she asked as if Alba could speak back to her, offering her fingers to gently scratch the soft fluff of one of her cheeks.

Somnus was a bad liar most of the times. He was simply lucky no one called him out on the looks he gave Aerith after they had been practically dragged from the comfortable spot on the cot by her father.

She was… decisive. She made choices and led by them. She gave ideas and orders.

It was utterly attractive and Somnus was more than happy to just stay back and watch this. Only once did he get a small glare from her father over this. The older man surely knew the way the younger looked at his daughter. But this time Somnus simply had a small smirk and crossed arms left for the king before he readied Alba.

And whatever Aerith had done, it must have broken her father’s grim strictness. At least for now. Because she was allowed to ride on Alba alongside Somnus. The prince was more than happy to accommodate that command. Somehow… this was the best outcome they could have hoped for. He had feared that Aerith would be left with marks on her body and mind from this attack. And yet she seemed to overcome this quite well. Of course… maybe it was a mask, but Somnus intended to keep an eye on that.

And he did. With them both riding on Alba, it was easy to have a current of conversation. Serious topics. Less serious ones. And soon enough, comments from Somnus on tehri surroundings. They had passed the borders to the farmlands. It was obvious. Somehow… the grass was greener. The fields larger. And though autumn was coming, the fruit still seemed so countless on the trees that Somnus was wondering whether they had forgotten to harvest.

He was curious. And a little intimidated. This would be his new home. Only witnessing farmlanders from afar at first – as soon as the capital came into view and the first huts and farms surrounding it passed them by. And thus people noticed and came running to watch the caravan. And catch sight of the princess! As rarely as Aerith had been allowed outside, the same in turn was true for the people: they looked, guessed and little children pointed excitedly to Aerith. Giggling and standing on fences and crates, waving to her. Enough so that Somnus tilted his head a little to hide half his face in his shawl. Maybe they would not notice him. He thought. Until a little girl screamed at the top of her lungs, asking her mother whether that was Princess Aerith's bodyguard - much to her mother's panicked dismay.

[canine-witch]

Where will you meet your lover?

The date, time, and setting of a fated meeting is one that can cause a lot of anxiety in people. Today, I recieved a message that I should help you and the collective find out where they will meet their lovers. All will happen in due time.

Drink some water, pick a pile, and feel free to reject what does not resonate.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒

Group One ~ The Water

You will meet your lover on a snowy or just a very cold winter's day, under a streetlamp. You may have just been coming back from a big social meal or a holiday celebration, or maybe the club or a party if you are so inclined. If you smoke, they may offer you a cigarette. If not, they may comment on the weather, and how out of place it may feel.

The connection will at first be friendly. Whether or not the snow can resonate with you, there will be a gravitational pull under the streetlamp no matter the weather. It may feel more like people having a chance meeting with someone at first, but over text or instant messaging, it will be almost scary how much you both have in common with each other.

The relationship will flow effortlessly, and you will be friends before you are lovers.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒

Group Two ~ The Dandelions

You will meet your lover for the first time as you are trying to hurry. You would be late to something, or have a very groggy and grumpy morning, and end up late for an appointment, school, your job, or anywhere else that would require punctuality. Your lover may be walking on the wrong side of the sidewalk, be hurrying and not paying attention, or maybe even will be a tollmaster or a ticket master who is also having a grumpy day.

Either way, they will present a roadblock towards getting where you need to be. You will forget this reading entirely, and become frustrated with them. You have places to be, you're in a hurry, you don't have time!

Then, you may see that same person on a dating app, perhaps they have recently broken up with someone. You don't recognize who it is, but realize this persion has all the same values as you, traditionally or otherwise, and you both are in alignment with what you want or need. You will make a meeting, and have a revelation at the date that it was the person who you bumped into.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒

Group Three ~ The Meadow

You will meet your lover in nature. You will be going on a hike, or visiting a recreational lake or garden, or just getting some fresh air. It probably would be about the beginning of spring, many flowers are in bloom or just beginning to bloom.

There is an air of heaviness or sadness around you, you may have many burdens and heard that walks in nature can clear your head. There will be some blockage in the road, perhaps construction or a large branch will block your path. Maybe someone would be accidentally camping on your trail, or asleep in your path somehow. Either way, you and someone else will stop at this roadblock, and your lover will introduce themselves.

You will be charmed by them, and them by you. You will both make jokes or talk about the roadblock, and move together at the same pace. You will exchange numbers, but a date will happen very quickly afterwards. You both may want to get some food for your first date, and it would be very casual and warm. You both are very comfortable with each other, and enjoy each other's company, at your first date and beyond.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒

Group Four ~ The Guitar

You both will meet in service of society. Something will happen, that will move you to protest, to volunteer your time, or seek a career in advocating for others to combat the injustice in the world. You will be riteously angry, and so will your lover.

You will meet in the throws of rage, defending and campaigning for what you truly believe in. You will become close, but see each other more as allies and dependable figures. If you go outside to protest, one of you may bail the other out of confinement. One may defend the other against false testimonies or online hatred for what they believe in.

When the dust settles, you both will see that you were not as alone as you thought, that the person who you also wish to fight for, was fighting for you as well. This revelation will overjoy you both, and you will celebrate a battle well fought and a time of peace afterwards.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒

Thank you so much for trusting me with your time, connections, and energy seekers. I pray this finds you at the right time, in the right moment. Blessed be to you!

[oscinhaslandito]

Hi 👋

You could write to Max in a secret relationship perhaps with some pilot's sister?

The thrill of secrecy made every stolen moment between Y/N and Max even sweeter. They had mastered the art of sneaking around, exchanging fleeting touches and whispered confessions when no one was looking. Between paddock meetings and post-race celebrations, their relationship flourished in the shadows, away from prying eyes—especially Lando’s.

Max found it amusing how much effort they put into keeping their relationship a secret, but Y/N knew the consequences of Lando finding out. Her brother was fiercely protective, and the fact that Max was his closest championship rival at the moment would only add fuel to the fire. Still, Y/N couldn’t bring herself to care when she was with Max, tucked away in their little world.

Their secret rendezvous often took place at her apartment, where they could be themselves without the weight of the racing world pressing down on them. Some nights were filled with deep conversations and soft kisses; others, with laughter as they playfully argued over takeout orders or which movie to watch.

One evening, Y/N and Max were sprawled across her couch, her head resting against his chest as he absentmindedly traced patterns on her arm. The TV played in the background, but neither of them paid much attention. It was these quiet moments that Y/N treasured the most—just the two of them, away from everything.

“You know,” Max mused, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “I think I’d be okay if we never left this apartment.”

Y/N chuckled. “You say that now, but the second Christian Horner calls, you’ll be out the door in a heartbeat.”

“Maybe,” Max admitted, tilting her chin up so he could kiss her properly. “But I’d take you with me.”

She sighed into the kiss, her fingers curling around the fabric of his hoodie. “That would defeat the whole ‘secret’ thing, wouldn’t it?”

“Maybe it’s time we stop hiding.”

Y/N pulled back slightly, giving him a look. “You say that like Lando wouldn’t lose his mind.”

Max smirked. “I think I could take him.”

She snorted. “You’d be surprised how strong his protective instincts are.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of her phone buzzing. She glanced at the screen and groaned. “Speak of the devil.”

“Lando?” Max guessed.

“Yeah. He’s asking if I’m home.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “You think he’s suspicious?”

Y/N shook her head. “Nah, he probably just wants to come over and annoy me.”

Max chuckled, pulling her closer. “Then let’s make the most of our time before he does.”

She giggled as he leaned in, pressing playful kisses to her neck. Their time alone was precious, and she wasn’t going to waste it worrying about what might happen next.

Later that night, they curled up in bed, limbs tangled together under the soft glow of her bedside lamp. Y/N absentmindedly ran her fingers through Max’s hair as he hummed contently against her shoulder. It was moments like these that made her wish they didn’t have to hide.

“I like this,” she whispered. “Just us.”

Max tightened his grip around her waist. “Me too.”

She smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead before trailing her fingers down his spine. Max sighed in contentment, shifting slightly so he could bury his face into the crook of her neck. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, basking in the warmth of each other’s presence, whispering sweet nothings into the quiet of the night.

In the mornings, Max always woke up before her, but instead of getting up, he’d stay in bed, watching her with a soft smile as she slowly stirred awake. This time was no different. As sunlight filtered through the curtains, he gently ran his fingers through her hair, watching as her eyelids fluttered open.

“Morning,” he murmured, brushing a kiss to her temple.

She hummed in response, stretching against him. “Morning.”

Max chuckled as she buried her face into his chest, clearly not ready to face the day. “You’re cute when you’re sleepy.”

“Mm, don’t start,” she mumbled, swatting at him half-heartedly before tightening her grip around his waist. “Five more minutes.”

Max smiled, wrapping his arms around her. “Take all the time you need.”

They stayed wrapped up in each other, exchanging lazy kisses and murmured words, soaking up every bit of the peaceful morning before reality could intrude. It was these stolen moments that made the secrecy worth it.

They eventually got up, reluctantly leaving the comfort of their bed. Y/N made coffee while Max hovered around the kitchen, sneaking kisses whenever she wasn’t looking. By the time they settled back onto the couch, mugs in hand, Y/N was leaning into him once again, soaking in the last bit of quiet before the outside world came knocking—literally.

After breakfast, Y/N had barely thrown on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top when a sudden knock echoed through the apartment. Max, fresh out of the shower, towel slung around his shoulders, raised an eyebrow at her.

“Expecting someone?” he asked, ruffling his damp hair.

“No…” Y/N frowned. “It’s probably just a delivery. I’ll get it.”

But before she could move, the knocking turned insistent. Loud. Familiar.

“Y/N! Open up!”

Her blood ran cold. “Oh, shit.”

Max blinked. “Is that—”

“Yes.” Y/N panicked. “It’s Lando.”

They exchanged wide-eyed looks before Y/N frantically pushed Max toward her bedroom. “Go hide!”

Max scoffed, clearly entertained by the situation. “I’m not hiding from your brother.”

“Well, you’re not standing here either!”

But before they could properly figure out an escape plan, the worst-case scenario unfolded. Y/N cracked the door open, intending to slip out and block Lando’s view, but her brother had other plans. He pushed right past her, stepping inside—only to freeze in place when he spotted Max standing there, still in his towel, looking thoroughly unbothered.

For a few agonizing seconds, no one said anything. Then:

“What. The. Fuck.”

Y/N winced. “Lando—”

“Are you serious?!” Lando exploded, his face a mixture of betrayal, disgust, and sheer disbelief. He turned to Max, his hands thrown up in exasperation. “You?! You taking advantage of my little sister?!”

Max, to his credit, seemed completely at ease, offering a slight shrug. “Technically, she chose me.”

That only made things worse.

Lando let out a dramatic gasp, placing a hand over his heart. “I have never been more betrayed in my entire life.”

“See? This is exactly why I didn't wanna tell you. I knew you'd act ridiculous.” Y/N groaned.

“Ridiculous? RIDICULOUS?!” Lando says in his usual dramatic fashion.

Max is just standing beside Y/N, trying to contain his smirk.

Lando narrows his eyes at him, “What, you think this is funny?”, he says in a venomous tone.

“A little, mate.”, Max says, trying his best not to burst out laughing at Lando's dramatic antics. Wrong move.

Lando just about lunges at him, “I swear to God-”

Y/N has to come in between them, to make sure her brother doesn't physically hurt her boyfriend, “Lan!”

Lando's angry gaze turns to his little sister now, “Don't you 'Lan' me, young woman! Really?! Out of all the people, HIM?!”

“Gosh, Lando, I love him, okay? And so does he me. I know what I'm doing, I'm not a little girl, anymore. So, stop acting like that.” Y/N says, now frustrated with her brother's overprotective antics.

Lando sighs, takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, “Look, I have to act this because you're my little sister and he's... well, he's HIM.”, he says, giving Max a dirty look.

“A four time world champion, you mean?”, Max adds pridefully, just to rile Lando.

Y/N gives Max a 'are you for real' deadpan look.

Max only chuckles in response, but he's got some sense in him, so he tries to reason, “Look, mate. I understand, I completely do. I have a little sister too, and I'd be protective too if she was dating someone from my own circle. I totally understand. But, mate, trust me, I love her more than life itself, I swear to you, I will always treat her right, like a princess, the way she deserves to be. Trust me, mate, I worship the ground she walks on. Just give me a chance. Please?”

Lando opened his mouth, ready to argue more, but then sighed, rubbing his temples. “You know what? Whatever. Just… don’t let this mess with race day.”

Y/N smiled slightly, nudging Lando’s arm. “We won’t. Promise.”

Lando huffed. “Fine. But I swear, Max, if you break her heart, I’ll—”

Max smirked. “Yeah, yeah. You’ll try.”

Lando scowled, but Y/N just laughed, wrapping an arm around her brother. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re unbelievable,” Lando shot back, but his glare had softened. “Just be happy, okay?”

Y/N beamed, glancing at Max. “I already am.”

[heliosunny]

LUCKY EGG

Yandere!Adventurine x Reader

The moment the egg cracked open, you expected something simple. A creature, perhaps a loyal companion to aid you in your travels, something small, manageable. But as the smooth shell split apart, the air shimmered with a strange energy, and a shadow emerged from within.

A man.

Tall, broad-shouldered, and unfairly beautiful, he stretched as though shaking off centuries of sleep. Golden hair framed his face in wild, tousled strands, catching the light like threads of molten metal. His striking eyes, a combination of cyan and magenta, locked onto yours, vivid and sharp, filled with something you couldn’t quite name.

“Well, well.” His voice was smooth, indulgent, laced with quiet amusement. “Aren’t you lucky?”

Before you could even process what was happening, he moved. A strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into an embrace. His warmth pressed against you, a sharp contrast to the cool air of the room.

“I’m Aventurine~” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “And it looks like I’m yours.”

You knew what this was. You’d read about it before. Baby duck syndrome. The first thing a newborn creature sees, it imprints upon, forms an unbreakable bond.

You tried to step back. His arms didn’t budge.

“Aventurine” you said carefully, your voice wavering, “maybe we should-”

He chuckled, cutting you off. “There’s no need to be so stiff, treasure. You don’t have to worry.” His hand lifted, brushing strands of hair from your face. The touch was gentle. “I’ll take care of you.”

You swallowed. “That’s… not necessary.”

His smile widened. “Oh, but it is.”

“No need to be afraid” he murmured, tilting his head. “I already know everything about you.”

“What?”

His fingers trailed down your arm, slow and deliberate. “I was inside that egg for three days, listening. Watching. Learning. Every little thing about you.” His voice dropped to a whisper, almost reverent. “And now… I finally get to touch you.”

“That’s not—”

His thumb brushed over your pulse, feeling the rapid beat beneath your skin. A low hum of satisfaction rumbled in his throat.

“Excited?” He chuckled. “I can’t blame you. After all… you summoned me.”

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks.

You had put in the currency. You had pulled the lever. You had brought him into existence.

In his eyes, that meant one thing. You belonged to him. Panic rose in your throat, but before you could say anything else, Aventurine cupped your face between his hands, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze.

“I’ll be good to you” he promised, his voice velvet-soft. “I’ll be everything you need. Everything you want.” His fingers pressed a little harder, just enough to make your heart hammer in warning. “And in return… you’ll be mine.”

Aventurine’s stomach growled. It was the first break in the tension since his… dramatic arrival.

His intense stare melted for a brief moment into something almost normal as he placed a hand over his stomach and huffed, looking mildly embarrassed.

You took the opportunity. If he’s hungry, then I have a reason to step away.

“I’ll cook something” you blurted out, turning toward the small kitchenette. “Why don’t you take a bath in the meantime?”

Aventurine blinked, then smiled lazily. “Taking care of me already? How sweet.”

You ignored the implication, already moving toward the ingredients you had. Not much. Barely enough for a proper meal, but you could make do.

Aventurine stretched, then smirked. “Guess I’ll take you up on that offer. But don’t miss me too much, alright?”

Oh, I won’t.

As soon as you heard the water running, you bolted. Not out the door, no, that would be reckless, but to quickly gather anything that would help. New clothes. A weapon. Supplies. An excuse to have some space from him.

The weapon shop was your first stop. If you were going to survive with him, he needed gear, something that would let him fight in the dungeons, earn his keep.

The shopkeeper eyed you as you browsed. “Buying for someone?”

You hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. He’s… new.”

That wasn’t a lie.

“Well, let’s see what he can handle.”

Aventurine arrived just as the shopkeeper was about to suggest something basic. He had changed into the spare clothes you found earlier, but they fit him loosely, still damp from his shower. His golden hair was dripping, and damn him, he still looked effortlessly elegant.

He immediately came to your side, standing just a bit too close. “You’re picking out a weapon for me?” His voice was teasing, but there was a pleased edge to it.

“It’s practical” you muttered. “If you’re staying with me, you’ll need to fight.”

“Oh? You want me to protect you?”

“That’s… not what I said.”

The shopkeeper, blissfully unaware of the tension, gestured toward a set of swords and daggers. “Here, try these.”

Aventurine barely spared them a glance. Instead, his fingers brushed over a dark-bladed dagger with intricate carvings. The moment he touched it, a faint shimmer of magic pulsed through the air.

The shopkeeper’s eyes widened. “That’s—”

Aventurine flipped the dagger in his hand, a smirk playing on his lips. “Defense magic, huh? That’s a useful trick.” He twirled the blade effortlessly before giving you a sidelong glance. “See? I can handle myself.”

You frowned. He’s skilled. More than you expected.

Still, you paid for the weapon. Better for him to have it and use it for dungeon runs than… whatever else he has in mind.

After stocking up, you both headed home, passing through the market district. That’s when Aventurine’s sharp gaze locked onto something.

A crowd.

A gambling crowd.

People were shouting excitedly, coins clinking as dice rolled.

His lips curled in amusement. “What’s this?”

You tensed. “A waste of time.”

His smirk widened. “Come on, treasure. A little gamble never hurt anyone.”

“It does when you lose all your money.”

“But what if I don’t lose?”

You exhaled sharply. “Aventurine—”

Too late. He was already striding forward.

You groaned, following reluctantly. This was a terrible idea.

The moment Aventurine placed a bet, something strange happened.

The dice always landed in his favor. Cards always turned in his favor.

People muttered, eyes narrowing. “Is he cheating?”

“Not a chance” the dealer said grimly. “I’ve been watching. He’s just… insanely lucky.”

Within minutes, Aventurine had doubled, then tripled his winnings. He turned to you, holding up a handful of winnings with a wicked grin. “See? I told you.”

You crossed your arms. “It’s dangerous to win too much.”

His eyes glowed with amusement. “Why? Afraid someone might get jealous?”

Yes. But that wasn’t the real problem. The problem was him. The way he enjoyed pushing limits.

You grabbed his wrist. “We’re leaving.”

Aventurine blinked, then smirked. “Oh? Possessive already?”

Still, he let you pull him away, even as the crowd buzzed behind you.

As you walked back home, Aventurine toyed with a golden coin between his fingers, glancing at you with unreadable intent.

“You know…” His voice was low, teasing. “Maybe I really am the luckiest man alive.”

You didn’t respond. But as he slipped his free hand into yours, holding it far too tightly, you realized something chilling: He wasn’t talking about the gambling.

You woke up to an empty room.

For a moment, panic gripped your chest. Had he left? Had he changed his mind?

But then, the glowing screen of your status interface caught your eye. Your points had skyrocketed. You blinked, staring at the numbers increasing in real-time. What the hell? The only explanation was him. He had gone out and soloed a dungeon. You exhaled, rubbing your temples.

With a sigh, you moved to the kitchen, deciding to cook breakfast while you had the chance. Whatever his reasons, he had at least earned a meal. You prepared an extra plate, leaving it on the table for him in case he returned while you were out.

You needed time to yourself.

After everything that had happened: the imprinting, the suffocating presence, the gambling spree,... You needed some space to breathe.

As you strolled through the bustling streets, you found your gaze lingering on pet owners. Dogs trotting beside their humans, birds perched on shoulders, even a few rare magical beasts following their companions. It was normal. Yet your egg had spawned a man.

Why?

Your fingers tightened around your bag. Was this normal? Was there something wrong with that machine?

By the time you returned home, you heard voices.

Aventurine’s smooth, teasing tone. And a woman’s sharp, irritated response.

He’s arguing with someone?

You stepped inside, eyes immediately locking onto the scene.

Aventurine stood near the entrance, arms crossed, expression smug. His golden hair caught the light, making him look deceptively relaxed. The woman in front of him looked less amused. She had striking violet eyes, dark robes, and an air of authority. A merchant? A guild member?

“You owe us” she hissed.

Aventurine tilted his head, all mock innocence. “Do I?”

The woman’s gaze flickered to you as you entered, lips pressing into a thin line.

“You!” she said flatly. “You’re his keeper, aren’t you?”

Before you could respond, Aventurine’s smile sharpened. “Now, now,” he murmured, stepping toward you. His hand landed firmly on your lower back, pulling you close. “There’s no need to drag my dear partner into this.”

The woman scoffed. “So you haven’t told them, huh?”

You looked between them. “Told me what?”

Aventurine sighed dramatically. “It’s nothing serious. Just a little misunderstanding.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed. “He cheated.”

You froze. “What?”

Aventurine chuckled. “That’s a strong accusation.”

The woman crossed her arms. “You won an unnatural amount of times. The casino wants their money back.”

You knew he was lucky. But was it really cheating?

You turned to Aventurine, watching the way his lips twitched in amusement.

“…Did you?”

He grinned. “Define cheating.”

The woman huffed. “Listen. Just return the winnings and we won’t cause trouble.”

You hadn’t touched a single coin from his gambling spree. You had no interest in dirty money, and you had told him as much.

You turned to Aventurine. “Just give it back.”

His grip on you tightened.

“I don’t think I will.”

The woman scoffed. “Typical.”

Aventurine sighed, shaking his head. “Come on, treasure. Why should I give up something I rightfully won?” His eyes glinted with amusement—and challenge. “Unless, of course, you don’t trust me?”

Before you could argue, the woman straightened. “Fine. If you won’t return it, then prove it wasn’t a fluke.”

Aventurine raised a brow. “Oh?”

She smirked. “A wager.”

His expression lit up with interest. “Now that,” he purred, “sounds fun.”

You barely resisted the urge to slam your head against the wall.

Aventurine’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “A wager, huh?”

The woman smirked, arms crossed. “That’s right. A proper gambling match. If you win, you keep the money. If you lose, you return every last coin.”

Aventurine thrived on risk, thrill, danger—this was just entertainment to him. But if the casino was challenging him, that meant they weren’t convinced his luck was natural.

You saw the way Aventurine was looking at you: expectant, testing. As if he was waiting to see if you would stop him.

“I accept.” Aventurine’s grin widened.

The woman exhaled sharply, clearly expecting this answer. “Fine. Tomorrow night. High-stakes table.”

You hated everything about this.

The woman gave you a sharp look before turning on her heel and leaving.

The moment the door shut, you rounded on Aventurine. “What the hell was that?!”

He chuckled. “Oh, treasure. Don’t look so upset.”

“You just agreed to gamble against a casino! Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?!”

He hummed, stepping closer, hands sliding into his pockets. “Dangerous? Or exciting?”

You scowled. “Aventurine!”

He caught your wrist, gently but firmly. “You doubt me.”

You hesitated.

“I don’t—” You exhaled sharply. “I don’t trust them. They wouldn’t offer this bet unless they had a plan.”

Aventurine chuckled, tugging you closer. “And yet… you’re worried about me.”

His fingers brushed over your pulse. “How sweet.”

You swallowed. “Just be careful.”

Aventurine smirked, pleased. “Of course. After all…” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I wouldn’t want to leave you all alone.”

The casino was packed.

Golden lights flickered overhead, the air thick with tension and anticipation. Aventurine looked completely at ease, dressed in sleek black, looking dangerously elegant. His golden hair fell in loose waves, eyes gleaming like polished gems under the chandeliers.

You felt out of place beside him, but Aventurine didn’t let you stray. His arm remained draped around your waist, his fingers tracing small circles against your skin.

“You’re nervous” he murmured, lips dangerously close to your ear.

You stiffened. “I don’t trust this.”

He chuckled. “Then trust me.”

Before you could respond, the dealer motioned for the game to begin.

High stakes. One match. Winner takes all.

Aventurine’s smile was sharp as a knife.

The cards were dealt. Dice rolled. Coins clinked.

Aventurine played with effortless confidence.

Every turn, every call, he moved like he already knew the outcome. As if fate itself bent to his will.

The other players grew tense. Whispers spread.

A final roll. A reveal.

Aventurine leaned back with a satisfied sigh. “Well… looks like I win.”

Then the woman from before scowled. “This—this isn’t normal.”

Aventurine tilted his head. “Are you accusing me of cheating?”

The casino staff shifted, uncertain. They wanted to. But there was no evidence.

Aventurine turned to you with a pleased smile. “See, treasure? Nothing to worry about.”

You exhaled shakily.

But as you looked at the dealer—at the way his hands trembled, his expression grim, you felt a creeping sense of unease.

Because Aventurine hadn’t just won. He had shattered the game entirely. And for the first time… you wondered if his luck was something more than just chance.

The moment you both stepped into your old apartment, you knew, you couldn’t stay here anymore. Not after the casino incident. Not after the way people had started watching you both. The absurd amount of points and money Aventurine had earned made you both a target. And that was the last thing you needed.

You exhaled. “We’re moving.”

Aventurine raised a brow, lounging lazily on the couch. “Oh?”

You crossed your arms. “We have the money for a better place. It’s safer this way.”

He tilted his head, studying you. Then, slowly, a pleased smile curled on his lips.

“Protecting me, are you?”

You stiffened. “I—no. I’m protecting myself.”

Aventurine only chuckled, stretching like a satisfied cat. “Mmm. Whatever you say, treasure.”

With a new apartment secured, you had another thought.

Aventurine looked like a disaster.

Not in the way you wanted, he was still frustratingly beautiful. But his clothes were either borrowed, stolen, or just not fitting his presence.

So you dragged him to the mall.

Aventurine smirked as you sifted through outfits, your eyes sharp with concentration. “I never took you for the type to play dress-up.”

You rolled your eyes. “You stick out too much in your usual mess. If we’re moving to a nicer place, you should at least look the part.”

He hummed in amusement but let you work. And, of course, the moment he tried on anything remotely elegant—he drew attention. Women whispered. Staff fawned over him. A group of admirers even giggled near the fitting rooms, watching as he adjusted a sleek black suit.

Aventurine was dangerous in a tailored outfit—sharp lines, golden hair effortlessly styled, eyes glinting with mischief. He thrived under the attention.

You, however, had enough.

Leaving him to entertain his admirers, you slipped away to the nearest bar. You just needed one drink. One moment to breathe without him watching you so closely.

The bar was dimly lit, quiet despite the low hum of conversation. You ordered something strong, letting the burn distract you from the ever-present weight of Aventurine’s presence.

But, of course…

It didn’t last long.

A glass clinked onto the counter beside you.

“You wound me, treasure.”

You tensed.

Aventurine slid into the seat beside you, smirking. His new outfit fit him far too well, making him look even more untouchable.

“You ran off” he murmured, swirling the drink in his hand. “Were you jealous?”

You scoffed. “I just needed a break.”

He chuckled, taking a slow sip. “And yet, here you are—drinking alone.”

You didn’t reply.

Aventurine leaned in, voice dangerously soft. “What am I going to do with you, hm?”

You ignored the shiver down your spine and ordered another drink.

The world blurred.

You hadn’t meant to drink so much, but Aventurine kept pushing.

Another glass. Another toast. Another teasing smile. By the time you stumbled out of the bar, the streets swayed beneath your feet.

Aventurine, of course, was perfectly fine.

He caught you easily, holding you upright with effortless strength.

“Tsk, tsk,” he hummed, lips brushing against your ear. “Look at you. Completely at my mercy.”

You hated how warm he felt.

Aventurine sighed, lifting you into his arms without effort.

“I guess I’ll have to take care of you, won’t I?”

You barely registered the journey back.

Soft sheets. A familiar scent. The feeling of being lowered onto the bed. Aventurine’s fingers brushed your forehead, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear.

“…You shouldn’t be so reckless, treasure.”

Your vision blurred. “M’fine…”

He chuckled, low and dark. “No. You’re really not.”

You were slipping—consciousness fading.

But just before sleep took you, you felt it.

A hand on your cheek. Aventurine’s voice, barely a whisper.

“…You don’t even realize, do you?”

A slow, deliberate sigh.

“I was always meant to be yours.”

---

Visit - Lucky Egg series

[Phainon]

[stars-obsession-pit]

Danny is afraid of lots of things.

He’s afraid of failing his classes, of losing an important battle and leaving the town vulnerable, of his family and friends dying, of becoming like Dan, and countless other things.

But perhaps most of all, he’s afraid of his original family.

The League of Assassins.

When Danyal Danny first came to Amity Park, it was because of an infiltration mission. The League had questions about the area and a couple crazy scientists living within it.

But Danny also suspects it was a convenient way to get rid of him. They never said it, but he felt it. He was the spare heir, the weaker twin, the failure.

He had been ordered to send back reports periodically, but he has no idea what happens to them. Supposedly, his twin was responsible for them, an early lesson in the duties he’d need to take on as the heir. But considering how Danny never received a single response, he doubts the other boy ever read them. Or maybe he did, but he just didn’t care.

Maybe if he was even more lucky, they had forgotten him entirely.

Danny wants to be forgotten. If the League forgot him, it would mean he could stay with his family. His real family. The ones he had been sent to spy on, yet who had accepted him far more readily than his blood “family” ever had, even as he started to let them see what he really was underneath his infiltrating persona.

Every report sent back was a risk. A chance that someone would remember the heir’s brother and order him to return. Every time, he was on edge for days, weeks, after it was sent out. Nothing ever happened.

But he was too afraid to stop.

If someone was reading them and noticed it, the League might send someone to check on him. Make sure he hadn’t gone rogue or been killed by something that could threaten their organization later.

He couldn’t risk it.

So he lied, pretended he was still loyal. Every single report was sent out on time, all in the same cold tone even as he left out more and more details about his true circumstances. He would not risk his family. Even if it meant he could never let himself move on from what the League had done to him.

And then one day, those fears were realized. His eyes locked with a pair he’d prayed to never see again, and he felt himself reflexively still, wiping all traces of emotion from his expression.

Damian al Ghul. His brother.

“Danyal. Ahki. Your mission is over. I’ve come to bring you home.”

Danyal paused, staring back silently, then asked in a blank voice, “Is anyone else aware of this?”

Damian’s brows furrowed at the question. “No, I–”

Danyal lunged. He is never going back, and if he can take out Damian, he might finally be rid of the last person who would think to drag him there.

[exilethegame]

i apologize in advance if this is too long and rambling lol. i just need to make you aware of the moral quandary i’ve found swimming around in my head all day. firstly, your book is amazing. i don’t think ive seen a writer capture my attention and also rip my heart into pieces so throughly (although, I, the Forgotten One is maybe tied with yours in my mind).

so, trystan and syfyn.

IRL i consider anyone who sits by as atrocities happen to be completely complicit and (sometimes) as equally as guilty as the perpetrator. your story makes my head spin as this is a stance i take very strongly and i struggle with hating syfyn and trystan. on one hand, my MC does hate them for things they’ve done (breaking his arm, holding him down while people essentially experiment on him, and even not really doing anything after finding out what happened to MC and learning that the queen is working with the “enemy”). other times, my MC can’t hate them for being a victim of circumstance, just as MC himself was (and is). my MC sees them for who they used to be, how their circumstances have shaped them, and how they may be punished for defying the crown but also can’t help but feel a personal and… maybe political betrayal? my MC, and me by extension, have been grappling with a couple questions: at what point does being a victim of circumstance no longer absolve someone of guilt? how many horrible things must someone do before their allies see that something must change? at what point does someone become just as guilty as the perpetrator because they refused to lift a finger either way? is it wrong to hate someone as a whole because of circumstances that, up to a certain point, were beyond their control? is it wrong to hate someone that follows a tyrant because they fear for their safety? what if it’s all they’ve ever known and they have no clear path forward without their leader?

i hope all of that made sense and don’t seem like the ramblings of a lunatic lol. i’m not very intellectual but these are just some things i’ve been thinking about as i gave your story another read last night and i was bursting at the seams to share my thoughts. like i said before, your story is beautiful. tragically beautiful, perhaps? i’m wishing you the best of luck in your work and personal life! and thank you so much for sharing this story with us; we don’t deserve it, but we will try to.

(also sorry if i misspelled trystan lol)

Ah no don't apologize!! I love discussions like this re. the characters, especially because pretty much all of them are morally questionable to one degree or another. It always makes me happy to hear when the game has made people start to think and worry about bigger moral questions like this :)

I think both Syfyn and Trystan definitely are intended to make that question be asked. And the game won't push a particular agenda either way re. if the Commander forgives/doesn't forgive, blames them/finds them to be victims, etc.

Of course, something I do think is fun that plenty of characters are wondering this very same question about MC, and the role they used to fulfill for Plaithus vs. what they are now, post-exile... 👀

Thank you so much for the kind words :)

[ghostlyferrettarot]

🌷Pick a Picture:🍨⊹˚. ♡ What's coming up for you on February?🎀 ⊹˚. ♡

🎀𝗜'𝗺 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹🎀

•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3

❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

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🖤If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!

🛍Masterlist🛍

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆Pile 1: Queen of Swords, 3 of Cups and 2 of Swords.

This February, everything may feel a little… random. Like you can't see clearly what's happening or what's coming next. And while it can be frustrating not to have all the answers, the Moon encourages you not to force things. Sometimes not knowing what's going on is a sign that you need to take a step back and allow yourself to feel without trying to rationalize everything.

You may be faced with situations this month that you may have been avoiding. Questions may arise about your relationships, your job, or even your current identity. And even though you may not perceive it now, it's all part of a developmental process. The confusion you're experiencing isn't harmful; on the contrary, it's like a "reminder" from the cosmos that there are elements within you that need to be heard. There will be times when you feel like the pieces are starting to fall into place, but there will also be days when you feel completely disoriented. And that's okay. You don't need to have everything figured out right away. It's a month to meditate, not to rush into solutions.

My recommendation would be not to put too much pressure on yourself. If you find yourself in a situation where things aren't clear, you shouldn't force yourself to make sure everything has immediate meaning. Keep an eye on your feelings, pay attention to the smallest details, and most of all, be kind to yourself. Clarity will come when it's needed, you just have to trust the process and yourself.

🧁Song:

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆Pile 2: The Sun, 4 of Wands and Queen of Wands.

You might feel like the pieces are starting to fall into place again this February, and that will give you a sense of clarity that you haven't experienced in a long time. You might feel more stimulated, more optimistic, or simply intent on giving your best. If there was something that was overwhelming you or that had stopped you, this is the moment when things begin to take a positive turn.

This month, you will experience thefeeling that something inside you is "waking up" in a sense. Perhaps you were already carrying some uncertainties or fears, but now it will give you the strength to face them, i heard "I'm going to put all my effort" as i was channeling your message. It is a favorable month to start a new project, undertake those dreams that you had saved or take on some circumstance that was going around in your mind. You will notice that the energy will be in your benefit. It is as if everything begins to flow without so much effort, like when you discover the right route and everything seems to be in tune.

Even if something is not exactly what you anticipated, your optimistic attitude and your clarity will help you to continue moving forward with confidence. Enjoy everything that this month brings with it. Sometimes we concentrate so much on the objectives that we forget to enjoy the trip. Take advantage of the minimal things, those that give us happiness in the simple things.

🧁Song:

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆Pile 3: 8 of Wands, The Chariot and King of Cups.

This month feels really "fast" to put it in a way, I think it will pass really quickly for you. Surprises can be a bit disconcerting at first, but in reality, they are bringing great potential. Some circumstances could change in unexpected ways, but that is just one component of the process. Don't worry if you feel that things are not progressing as you anticipated. Sometimes, the most significant transformations appear when we least expect them, and the final outcome can be much more favorable than you imagine.

This month could be a bit of a roller coaster, in the broadest sense. Some situations will evolve quickly, and you may feel like you are on a boat, but don't worry. There will be moments of uncertainty, but if you continue to evolve with the transformations, opportunities will begin to arise out of nowhere. It could be a good time to take a little more risk, as everything seems to be going in your favor.

Don't try to control everything. Life has its own rhythm, and sometimes it's best to allow yourself to be guided by the course of things. The surprises that will come this month will take you to unexpected places, and even though you can't anticipate what will happen, trust that everything has a reason to be the way it is. Let go of what you can't handle and continue to progress with the assurance that better things are yet to come <3

🧁Song:

💐Thank you for reading and tell me if it resonated💐

[lunette-png]

Waves of Ithaca

Prologue

The halls of the Ithaca Palace glimmered under the morning light, with the sun giving warmth to its bricks. A soft echo of laughter fills the open courtyard, belonging to a child- so high and bright. A little girl, no older than three, dashes across the stone floors barefooted. Her hair bouncing wildly as she ran.

"Come here, my little naiad!” Odysseus called out, as he catched her before swooping down to lift his daughter into his arms. She squealed as he spun her around, her small fingers gripping his tunic.

“Father!” she cried between giggles. “Put me down!”. Odysseus only laughed, holding her close. "Not until you promise me you won’t run away from your old father so fast next time.” This only makes her giggle more, as she jokingly pushes her father's face away.

Penelope approached, watching them with a quiet smile. She was young still, her beauty unwearied by time, her gentle hands carrying a wreath of woven olive leaves. “Our daughter is swift as the sea breeze,” she mused. “Perhaps Poseidon himself blessed her feet.”

At those words, Odysseus’ eyes twinkled with mischief. “Shall we ask him?” He carried the child to the courtyard’s sacred spring, where the clear water bubbled up from the earth, a gift from the gods. Kneeling, he placed his daughter’s tiny feet upon the cool stones, letting her toes dip into the water. Her (e/c) eyes looks on in confusion before turning to her father, anticipating what will happen next.

“Lord of the sea,” Odysseus murmured, his voice half-serious, half-playful, “if you have given my daughter the swiftness of the waves, grant her safe passage through life’s storms, that she may never be lost to the tide.”

Soon the wind stirred around them, accompanied by the rustling of the olive trees. The water rippled unnaturally, curling around the child’s feet like an embrace. She looked up, her wide eyes reflecting the golden sky, unafraid.

“Did you see that, Mother?” she whispered, her voice filled with a wonderous curiosity.

Penelope knelt beside them, touching her daughter’s damp foot. “Poseidon listens,” she said softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

The young princess looks back at her feet beneath the water. She did not know what it meant to be blessed by a god—but she felt something stir in her chest, something powerful.

Odysseus placed a hand over small head. “Do you feel it?” he asked.

She nodded. “It feels like the sea is inside me.”

He smiled. “Good.”

A year has passed since that day. During one evening, Odysseus sat beside his daughter in the megaron, the great hall where the fire burned low. Humming an old sailor's tune, with his daughter humming along. It would soon be broken by a question.

“Father?” she asked sleepily. “Why has Mother’s belly grown round?”

Odysseus chuckled. “Because you’re going to have a little brother, my little naiad.”

The girl’s face lit up with curiosity, the drowsiness she felt has dissipated. “A brother?”

“Yes.” He brushed a stray curl from her forehead. “A small, wailing thing, but we’ll love him all the same.”, he added with a soft chuckle.

She considered this, pursing her lips. “Will he be strong?”

“That will depend on the heart he carries.”

“Will he love the sea like you and I?”

Odysseus smiled. “Perhaps. But he will need someone to teach him—someone swift as the waves, clever as the gulls.”

She sat up proudly. “I’ll teach him.”, she proudly declared with her eyes lit with determination.

Penelope, reclining nearby, watched them with a hand resting on her belly. “Then he shall be lucky indeed,” she murmured, eyes glistening in the firelight.

Telemachus was only weeks old when Odysseus carried him to the sacred grove of Athena, basking in the golden light of late afternoon, the old olive trees swaying gently in the breeze. The scent of earth and sea salt combined, filling the air- the very essence of Ithaca. Odysseus walked ahead, his newborn son cradled in his arms, swaddled in soft linen. Beside him, Penelope held their daughter’s small hand, guiding her carefully over the roots that curled up from the ground.

“Are we really going to meet the goddess?” the little girl whispered, peering up at her mother.

Penelope smiled. “Not quite, my love. But this is her place, and your father wants to introduce your brother to her.”

“She is my guide, my shield in battle, and she will watch over him too.” Odysseus adds, the infant cradled in his arms.

The girl’s eyes widened, and she clutched her mother’s hand a little tighter.

When they reached the heart of the grove, the great olive tree standing tall above them, Athena was there, just as they had known she would be. She was a figure of calm, her presence as natural as the wind, her grey eyes bright with warmth. She smiled softly as Odysseus approached, still holding the swaddled infant close to his chest.

The goddess looked behind, her composure as stoic and tall as ever, but there was a flicker of softness once her eyes landed on the infant that Odysseus carried. No words were spoken, only the sound of rustling leaves and the faint movement of the waves, as she walked closer to the father and son.

The goddess bent down to meet the infant's gaze, her grey eyes softening. Telemachus slowly blinked up at her, and with a delicate movement, his tiny fingers curled around Athena’s outstretched hand. A gentle, almost unnoticeable wave of energy passed between them, a moment of silent understanding shared.

"He's a strong one," Athena said, her voice breaks the silence. “I can see it already.”

Odysseus grinned, ruffling his son's head. “I’m counting on you to guide him when the time comes, just as you’ve guided me.”

Athena chuckled, standing tall once more. “He’ll need more than guidance. He’ll need heart, and that I can see he has. You and Penelope did well.”

Odysseus smiled, pressing a hand to his son’s small chest. “He will be watched over.”

As he bid his farewell to the goddess, his daughter reached out, her tiny fingers brushing against her brother’s. “I will watch over him too,” she vowed, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Odysseus looked at her, pride swelling in his chest. He placed a hand on her head, feeling the warmth of her presence, along with the weight of her promise.

“You will, my daughter,” he said. “And he will be all the stronger for it.”

The trees swayed gently, and far above them, the owl of Athena watched.

The harbor of Ithaca was alive with movement—sailors loading supplies, warriors sharpening blades, banners snapping in the wind. Odysseus stood at the bow of his ship, dressed in bronze armor, his sword fastened at his side.

On the shore, Penelope stood tall, her face calm yet the sorrow in her eyes spoke differently. Their daughter clung to the hem of her mother’s robe, her hands curled into fists.

“I don’t want you to go,” she whispered, her voice shaking.

Odysseus knelt before her, his heart aching. “I must, little one. There is a war to fight.”

“But what if you don’t come back?”

"I promise I will, but until then, you have to be strong. Can you do that, my little naiad?", he reassured her.

Tears soon welled in her eyes, but she did not let them fall. She straightened her back, just as he had taught her. “I will be strong,” she promised, her voice though still shaky- is more stern than before.

He smiled. “I know you will.”

As he stepped onto the ship, he looked back one last time—at his wife, his son in her arms, and his daughter standing beside her, the sea breeze lifting her hair.

And then, with the wind at his back, he sailed away.

AN: i finally locked in for this one. can you spot my daddy and mommy issues? :"DD i still don't know where i am going with this story, and who the love interest will be- but we'll get there eventually. the part where odysseus introduces telemachus is inspired by gigi's animatic!

[darling2411]

Her Shadow

Jason Todd x reader

1.8K

*:･✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You were confused. It's been nearly a week since you last saw your shadow. Was he gone? Did you scare him off when you called out for him? Or did something happen?

Why did you even care? It wasn't like you knew him. But you missed the feeling of safety his closeness gave you. Yes you never saw him,but you always sensed his presence, and you missed him now that you didn't.

You stopped feeling alone as soon as your shadow entered your life because you weren't. No matter where you went, you could always rely on him to be there. 

Jason longed to be with you, but he had to stay away until he recovered from a mission gone wrong.

He had to lay low for a while after you saw him anyway. But the week he had to spend away from you was one of the hardest things he ever had to do.

His entire being begged to be with you. To keep an eye on you and make sure everything was okay. He had even gone so far as to think about asking his brother to come see how you were doing and find out whether everything was okay, but he decided against it. Jason wanted to keep you all to himself. And to be fair he doesn't even really have you. Yes he knows as much about you as he could figure out without really breaking every sense of your privacy. But you don't know him. And he had to change that as soon as possible. Jason wanted to get to know you, but he didn’t know how he could achieve that.

Like a gift sent from heaven the solution to his most pressing problem came in the form of yourself. 

Other than a few scratches on his face Jason was all healed, but he hasn't seen you in 10 days and he missed you.

He was on his way back to his apartment when he unexpectedly saw you. His heart started beating faster and he could swear that if it could his heart would jump out of his chest and intertwine with yours.

However, all of his optimistic thoughts vanished when he realizes in what situation you are in and instead his head is filled with rage.

A man was pressing you against the brick wall of a building and you were screaming at him to let you go. You were making it clear that you didn’t want this, that he was making you incredibly uncomfortable, but the guy wouldn't let you go. 

Jason was fuming and before he himself could realize what he was doing he pulled the man off you and started beating him.

You were able to breathe again as soon as the man was shoved away from you and after taking a few deep breaths you noticed that the man who pushed the creep of you was still beating him. You heard a sickening crunch and you knew it was the sound of bones breaking. 

"Hey!" you exclaimed, "please stop." And as soon as your voice reached Jason's ears he stopped immediately, his sole focus on you.

"Are you alright?" His breathing was irregular as he asked.“Did he hurt you?”

You shake your head no “ Other than being a creep you stepped in before anything bad could happen.”

“Don't do that” Jason said, his gaze still full of rage, “That he even put his hand on you without you giving him permission is to much”

You flushed and shrugged your shoulders, saying, "I know, but it wasn't like he assaulted me." 

“He did!” Why were you so adamant on telling him that nothing happened?

“Perhaps, but it makes no difference. You stopped him and nothing really happened. And I'm not gonna say anything anyway.” you rolled your eyes.

Jason was baffled “What do you mean you won't say anything? You have to report him.” He looked at you expectantly.

"Report him?I will either get fired or no one will believe me if I report him, Mister-huge-bicep.” You say being unable not to notice his shirt pressing against the bulging muscles in his arms. You turned to the creep who unfortunately happened to be your boss or rather professor. You were his assistant and most of the time he behaved himself but lately more often than not he made weird jokes and sexual comments. But you needed the money, the job in the little supermarket on the corner didn't cover all your expenses. And you really like your little apartment. If not for your job as a teaching assistant you would have to move back in with your mother and that was something you really don't want to do. 

Mr. Huge Bicep? Jason was overcome with male pride, but he was unable to concentrate on it at the moment. There were more pressing matters. “Is he your boss?” He took a step towards you, saying, “Yn. I asked if he is your boss”

Hold on, did he just say your name? Did you tell him? You must have but when?

“How do you know my name? I didn't tell you, did i?”

Shit, he fucked up” That doesnt matter right now, Is he your boss or not?”

"Yes, he is. He is my professor and also my boss. I’ m his teaching assistant and I really need that job”

“Alright this is what we’re going to do now. First of all I'm gonna walk you home and make sure nothing else happens to you. Then we are going to talk about what you plan to do with your professor and after that I'm gonna explain to you why I know your name, alright ?”

“That sounds good and I'm gonna make us a little something to eat and don't you even try to say no. It's the least I can do after you literally saved me.” you smiled up at him kindly.

How could he ever say no to you in any way? He was totally smitten with you and he never even really talked to you until today.

“Alright” You already turned away from him and didn't see the slight smile on his face after he accepted your invitation.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The two of you made your way over to your apartment. If you noticed that he led the way there without you telling him where to go you didn't say anything. 

You opened the door when you arrived and let him inside. 

Your apartment is a pure reflection of yourself. It is plaid out in your favourite colours and all your little hyperfixation are displayed all over the place. It was so unapologetically you and Jason immediately felt at peace. Just like he usually did when he was following you around as your shadow and was in your mere presence .

“Nice place” he muttered as you ushered him into your little kitchen. 

“Thanks, I love it” you beamed.

Yeah he could see that. “Is that why you don't want to tell anyone about your boss?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Yes,” you answered silently.” If I want to keep this place and I really do, then I also have to keep that job.” You just got your shot at independence and you weren't going to let it slip through your fingers without a fight.

“Okay then.”, Jason sighed, ”Has he ever done anything similar ?” he asked, his fist clenched tight. The simple thought of you being in a situation like this before without him there was making him want to punch the professor all over again. Additionally he was extremely mad at himself because how could he not know that you had a second job and that your professor was a fucking creep? If he had known about this he would have helped you sooner. Jason hoped that your boss would still be where he left him later so he could give him another beating for even thinking about you inappropriately.

“No, not really. I mean he always made little comments but he has never been physical with me before. I think it is my fault. I was really nice to him this morning and said that we could meet up to mark the next exams after the lectures were finished and I think he misunderstood me.” your voice got more unsure the more you tried to explain yourself.

“This was definitely not your fault. He is stupid and heard what he wanted to hear. Nothing that happened had anything to do with what you said or how you behaved. This is not your fault, sweetheart” Jason squeezed your shoulders reassuringly.

You looked at him sheepishly, his fingers now drawing little patterns into your skin calming you down. “ I know that I'm supposed to feel like that, but I can't help but feel guilty. I know that the guilt has to change sides but the victims almost always gets all the blame and it’s so deep ingrained in us that even I as a woman sometimes think that it is my fault and that is so messed up.” You sigh heavily.

“Yes it is that is why you have to report him” Jason says trying to persuade you to do the thing he thinks is right.”Nothing will change if you don’t try.”

“You really think that it will help?” you ask, still unsure if anything will change if you report your professor.

“If I come with you yes” Jason says extremely sure of himself.

“What is that supposed to mean?” you ask perplexed.

“Well I uhm” he trailed off , not quite sure what to say. Should he already tell you about his connection to Bruce? “I mean I saw what happened so im sure they have to believe you if  you have a witness.” 

“You're right I will report him first thing in the morning. I hope you know that you have to come with me. You are the witness after all.” Now it is your time to look at him expectantly.

He did know and the possibility of spending more time with you made him all giddy inside.

“Yeah, no problem.” He looked at you intensely, finally being able to really look at you without as much distance between you as when he was keeping an eye on you from far away. You are the most magnificent thing Jason has ever laid his eyes upon. And if he could he would never stop looking at you.

“You said you would tell me how you know my name?”,that got Jason's attention and he stopped staring at your perfectly kissable lips and focused on your eyes instead.

“Yes but how about we eat something before I tell you?” He asked, trying to delay the conversation as long as he could before he has to tell you everything and you wouldn’t want to see him ever again.

He hopes you won't hate him when he confesses to being your shadow.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[theprettynosferatu]

State of The Blog, February 2025, or As I Type This

CW: Politics, general downer.

I promised myself I wouldn't write about this. Guess this post makes me a liar, aside from a humble kink-maker. I also promised myself I wouldn't complain, and that I won't do. Things are fine. Texts are being written. The smut is flowing, even if slowly- or less rapidly than either of us would like, dear reader.

Now... shit sure is fucked, huh? Not the most eloquent way of putting it, I know. But who has time for rhetoric these days? And I'm not even American! But I happen to know that a large portion of my little corner o'smut here hails from the USA. I have lived there myself. I have, perhaps, something of a romantic streak when it comes to what America could be. Sadly, it's not what it could be that we have to deal with.

Things are moving quickly. This is not by accident.

As I type this, the richest man in the world has gathered an unfathomable trove of data from the US government. Illegally, of course, but it appears such things no longer matter.

As I type this, information on gender and trans issues is being erased from government websites.

As I type this, self-ID is no longer a thing for my non-binary and transgender American friends, acquaintances and readers.

As I type this, ICE is raiding workplaces, schools, churches.

As I type this, someone has lost funding for life-changing research.

As I type this. the US is getting into a trade war on three fronts. All casualties in this war will be, as is always the case, the working people. On all sides.

The casualties of all these things will not be heralded. They will not the announced or published. They will be silent, in the form of people rationing medicine they need to live, getting sick from the cold and not being able to afford a doctor, perhaps choosing to not go on anymore in a world that seems to scream in their face that they don't matter, they are not wanted, they are Other.

You are shocked and traumatized because that's the point. To shock you into paralysis, so you won't have the bandwidth or time or energy to react- your reaction is what they fear.

I am nothing important. I make stuff to get people off. What right to I have to say anything to anyone who is really suffering? What the fuck can I do? Provide some escapism? Perhaps. It is useful, insofar as burning out on doomer shit helps absolutely no one. I'm nowhere near a front line, so to speak. Perhaps I'm being delusional thinking I am contributing something worth fuck all to people, but hey, I can do delusion. Or hope. It's hard to tell them apart sometimes.

I can't tell you to fight. I can't start preaching about the importance of community. I can't tell you what to do. It's not my place, and it's not my expertise. I'm not here to play armchair resistance, and neither are you. You are here for kink, and so kink I shall give you.

But I couldn't do the State of the Blog and let this go unremarked. As futile as it may be, as stupid as it sounds (and I am aware of the ass I'm making out of myself here), I just wanted you all to know you ARE wanted, you CAN handle this. Shit is bleak. But it won't be bleak forever, because YOU won't let it. The dawn is in your hands. And when you need a break and want to read smut, I'll be here.

Oh, and before I go, just in case anyone isn't clear:

Fuck off fascists.

Fuck off transphobes.

Fuck off xenophobes.

Fuck off racists.

Fuck off real sexists.

Life is not on your side, you absolute dogfuckers. It never has been, and it never will be.

[sanjoongie]

𝒟𝒶𝓎 𝒪𝓃𝑒~ 𝒞𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝓅𝒾𝑒

The Menu

🩶Pairing: Bunny! Hybrid! Park Seonghwa x Space Transport Pilot! Reader (f)

🩶Au: scifi au, space au, hybrid au

🩶Trope: s2l

🩶Genre: smut

🩶Rating: 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

🩶Warnings: creampie, unprotected sex, power bottom! reader, pleasure top! seonghwa, degradation kink, begging, dacryphilia, begging, dumbification, nipple play(m), verbal teasing, praise

🩶Word Count: 1,212

🩶Summary: when you agree to take on a stray bunny hybrid as a passenger on your transport, you had no idea you'd hit your fertile cycle and lure Seonghwa into a rut

🩶 Masterlist | Day Two: Hongjoong🤍

The lewd noise of squelching fills the cockpit of the ship, Limitless. You aren’t entirely sure anymore where Seonghwa ends, and you begin. All you know is that his cock is the source of your neverending pleasure and you aren’t keen on giving that up anytime soon. You have been riding him in the pilot's chair for who knows how long now, clothes only partially pulled aside or barely discarded in a rush to fuck, fuck, fuck.

You spoke between gasps and pants, unable to halt the movement of your hips. “When you said…you were…a bunny hybrid…you really weren’t…joking.”

“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa whines, even as his hips cant upwards. “I didn’t think this would ever happen.”

Seongwha’s floppy ears bounce with every thrust into you. You push a hand through his hair, brushing his ears as well, and find them just as soft as you hoped.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him. “The days are long in a transport vessel. This will make them interesting.”

Seonghwa closes his eyes, leaning into your touch. He tips his head back and pushes his lips out. “Please.”

The bunny hybrid is addicted to kisses, just as much as his cockhead is addicted to kissing your uterus. His length is literally meant to put babies into you. In fact, he has already come so much that the noises echoing in the cockpit are literally him fucking his cum back into your already full and swollen cunt.

As you slant your lips across his rather plush ones, Seonghwa’s fingers dig into your hips, curving into your ass. “More,” he moans into the kiss.

You plunge your tongue into the cavern of his mouth, tongue lazily engaging with his and your cunt pumps him for more cum. You aren’t sure if crossbreeding is even a thing, but you are past the point of caring, honestly. You just want to hear the desperate mewls of the bunny hybrid under you.

“I’m gonna--” Seonghwa’s pained expression indicates that he is truly close to coming again. “I’m gonna come!”

“Fill me up, handsome,” you purr, and then he unloads inside of you.

You ride him through his high, stopping only after a few pumps to raise yourself above his cock. You both moan in unison as his still-hard cock slips out of your sopping wet cunt. Still, you remain above him, his cum pouring out of your gaping hole.

Seonghwa’s Adam’s apple bobs as he watches. “Don’t do that,” he whines.

“You’re doing such a lousy job of keeping me full, Seonghwa,” you coo mockingly. “Look at it all coming out again! Guess you have no choice but to fuck me some more, hmm?”

The bunny hybrid whimpers tragically. “I’m doing my best.”

You carefully step off your pilot’s seat, legs barely able to handle your own weight. You move over to the navigation console and lean over it tantalizingly. You can feel Seonghwa’s cum dripping down your thighs and you know he has a perfect view of what you’re feeling.

“Are you?” You prompt him, throwing a challenging look over your shoulder.

Seonghwa makes a pitiful noise in the back of his throat and gets up from the cum-soaked seat that he has been glued to. His long fingers skim over your ass and he ruts his wet cock up against your ass cheeks. “I keep filling you up but you keep letting it all come out,” he murmurs in a sulky tone.

“Oh, it’s my fault that you aren’t keeping me plugged up and full of your sweet cum?” you raise an eyebrow at him. “Perhaps I should take my pussy elsewhere and you can try to keep my seat full of your cum instead.”

The hands that have been meandering over your ass tighten in possessiveness, and you feel a triumphant grin pull at your lips. “No. I need to be inside of you. Don’t leave me.”

You turn around and wrap your arms around Seonghwa’s neck. He’s in near-tears from the threat of you taking your hole away from him. “You gonna do a better job then?”

Seonghwa’s nose twitches, and his foot begins to tap impatiently. “I can do it. Give me one more chance. Please?”

You can’t help but fondly bop his nose. The stars reflect in his eyes, and you can not deny him anything in this moment. “I’ll give you one more chance but--”

You gasp as Seonghwa wraps his arms around your waist and hefts you up onto the console. With a hand pressed into each of your thighs, Seonghwa spears into you without any guidance. His eyes roll into the back of his head with the pleasure of being sheathed inside of you once again.

With tiny thrusts, he’s already dumb again. “So good, so good, so good,” he chants.

Your hands are free, and that gives you the opportunity to play with Seonghwa’s pebbled nipples. His shirt has a cheeky slit that makes it easy to reach in and do so. As a result, Seonghwa thrusts into you sharper than he had been.

“Oh god Seonghwa, fuck, just like that, handsome,” You groan.

Seonghwa bites down on his bottom lip and leans in to jack-hammer into you. “I like it when you squeeze me when you come,” he whispers shyly.

You run the back of your finger over Seonghwa’s cheek. “There’s a good bun.”

Seonghwa whines again, collapsing on top of you fully. He buries his face into the crook of your neck. The only space between the two of you is where he lifts his hips to fuck into you. “Wanna make you come,” He murmurs into your neck.

“Oh, it's not just all about you, hmmm?” You can't help but tease.

Seonghwa gently brings his teeth down on your shoulder. It's not a threat; it's more of a way for him to focus. “You're so warm and good to me. Wanna make you feel good, too.”

Your hands get tangled up in Seonghwa’s hair as you feel your climax soon approaching. The rate that he's thrusting into you guarantees that you'll be coming soon. “Hnnnnn, Seonghwa,” You moan.

“Come, pretty, come for me. Make your pretty moans, please. All I want to feel is you clench around me. Please, you're so warm and tight and--”

“Fuck!” You cry out and do just that. Your toes curl as you run through your umpteenth climax, each one better than the next.

Seonghwa whines, and you feel him spurt inside of you, coming little after you squeeze him with your climax. “Gonna fill you up, and it's gonna stay there,” he says into your neck.

You trail the tips of your fingers listlessly along the nape of Seonghwa's neck. “Good job, Bun.”

The bunny hybrid lifts his head so that he can meet your gaze. “Truly?” He wonders, lips pushed out and eyes looking for more praise.

You push some hair out of his eyes, and he blinks cutely at the gesture. “Truly.”

He rests for a moment, having completed his purpose. If not for the faint twitch of his cock calling him back to battle.

“One more time,” Seonghwa whispers against your skin. His hips push against yours, pelvis grinding into your clit.

“I've got time,” You can't help but grin.

🩶 Masterlist | Day Two: Hongjoong🤍

[lu-is-not-ok]

hi there! i’ve been motivated by previous asks, so i would really like to hear your thoughts on hong lu’s relationship with yi sang, as it is currently and how it may progress with the story… they have very interesting parallels to me and i wish i could see their relationship explored somewhere other than my own head lol

also, (if you would allow me two questions) do you have any particular thoughts about hong lu’s particulars (bachelor and sheltered)? i find the sinners’ particulars to be really interesting too but i never see them discussed anymore. thanks for your time & have a good day <3

When it comes to Hong Lu and Yi Sang, their relationship is much more straightforward but also much more genuinely positive.

The two don't really interact with each other in any notable manner until Canto 4, which is also where their dynamic Truly gets established. Canto 4's Dungeon is where they both end up connecting, as Yi Sang recognises Hong Lu as someone who heavily resembles Young Ji from the League of Nine, while Hong Lu himself appears to relate to and understand some of Yi Sang's struggles.

This all comes to a head when Hong Lu is the one to recognise the emotional core of what was happening and gives Dante the advice they need to actually reach out to Yi Sang at his lowest.

From this Canto onward, Hong Lu appears to consistently check up on Yi Sang during moments that remind the latter of his past with the League. Hong Lu shows that he not only holds concern for Yi Sang's emotional well-being, but also wants to make sure he doesn't bottle up his thoughts the way he learned he did in his past.

Likewise in Canto 7 Yi Sang is shown to be returning the favor to Hong Lu so to speak, though he's shown to struggle a bit more with processing how Hong Lu responds in comparison.

Outside of these moments, Hong Lu and Yi Sang are shown to generally have a cordial and amicable rapport, both showing curiosity towards each other when they share their respective knowledge and likewise jumping off of each other's observations to add their own. While Hong Lu does tease Yi Sang once or twice, it doesn't read nearly as mean-spirited as some of the shit he pulled with people like Heathcliff and Rodya.

Their relationship is perhaps one of the few on the bus that I can genuinely say is an entirely positive one for both of them. They both clearly care for each other and enjoy speaking with one another, even if they might struggle to understand one another at points. No ifs or buts, they're just straight up honestly decent friends.

It really makes me wonder how Yi Sang is going to take it once Hong Lu's lies are revealed... Compared to a lot of the relationships Hong Lu has with the other Sinners, his bond with Yi Sang seems the most genuine. Will Yi Sang be able to recognise that and will he decide to still stand by Hong Lu side?

Now. As for your second question.

I don't have much to say on Hong Lu's particulars beyond mentioning that their translation is. Interesting to say the least.

According to someone who speaks Korean, the term that got translated to "Bachelor" would more accurately be translated to "Young Master", aka it doesn't really have anything to do with marital status in its original language.

Similarly, the original wording for the "Sheltered" particular is more so an allusion to Hong Lu having a different sense of reality to what is considered normal. It's an interesting specificity that the English translation added that from my understanding wasn't there in the original text.

I don't have much else to add beyond the fact that people are too quick to trust the Manager Instructions as being the ultimate truth on what the Sinners are like. Their description of Ishmael as someone whose "patience runs deep" is proven incorrect in the fucking Prologue where her impatience is directly called out. This shit isn't a trustworthy source of info.