#so i might as well give this part its own spotlight

[physalian]

Juggling Multiple POVS (Writing Like A Movie)

At one point in a WIP, I had one character being held captive, two characters on a quest to bust them out, two characters racing to join the jailbreakers, four with no idea any of this is going on because they think they’re all dead, and then of those four, two split off on a side quest, and the remaining two also split off on various other tasks.

If you’re keeping track, that meant I had a book rotating between 6 different subplots and about 9 POVS at the absolute worst, and then about 4 subplots once characters finally reunited with each other.

It was… a lot.

Now this was never published so I don’t know how well it would have been received but it was a sequel and its predecessors received good feedback so I think I know what I’m doing.

—

When you’re committing to a book with Multiple POV, you’ve generally got two roads you can go down: predetermined narrators or ~cinematic~.

You can select a set number of characters to narrate regardless of how many exist in your ensemble cast, and no matter how many split off on their own subplots, those predetermined narrators will be keeping up with the story. These types of books tend to have shorter chapters and single narrators for chunks of chapters at a time with no cutting in between and fairly long breaks in between a character’s chunks of POV. Or, they have entire sections of book dedicated to them with clear markers between POVS.

The easy example here is Heroes of Olympus that I believe had up to 4 narrators per book despite a main cast of about 8 characters depending on the book. The first two were 3-POV, for each of the 3 questers, and then once the whole party was together the POVS were determined by who split off into which groups. Rather infamously, in my opinion, the last book of the series did not give a POV to the two legacy characters and the former protagonist of the first series, which was… a choice. I think the point was that Riordan gave them their spotlight in book 4 and was passing the torch to the new batch for book 5, but for many of us, who had no idea we’d never get a POV of these two again, it was mighty disappointing.

These books also had no chapter titles and instead had banner-style chapters where you had NICO or PIPER in massive banners over the start of each chapter, which was also a choice as going without chapter titles (or even numbers, they’re in roman numerals) makes it a lot harder to search things up in books 500+ pages long.

Who narrates when is less determined by who the most important character of the chapter is, for the most part. It might be Hazel’s moment, but she’s not a narrator of this book, so it’s in Piper POV (or Nico’s forced coming out moment in Jason POV which I will never forgive Riordan for). It’s just a dice roll of whoever it lands on which can lead to some moments, like the Nico incident, that really should have been in Nico POV, but the structure of the story demanded otherwise.

I don’t really love this style of multiple POV. Personally, I think it’s rather inflexible and doesn’t take full advantage of what MPOV can do. But that’s personal opinion so here’s some strengths:

It doesn’t jump around as much and with a minimal set of narrators, it’s more streamlined. You know what to expect going in with no surprises

It forces the author to get creative within the bounds of the POV they’re stuck in

The extra time with a single narrator can be a solid guide rail through a complicated plot piece

—

Or, you can write a more ~cinematic~ MPOV. I don’t know the proper term for this, if it exists, but this style of MPOV is when you basically free-for-all. Anyone can narrate whenever the scene demands and this either grants you a book with short chapters, but one narrator per short chapter, or multiple narrators within a single chapter, as you’d film a movie or an episode of TV with multiple perspectives per set piece.

This isn’t a random grab-bag of narrators. It demands a lot of restraint. This kind of MPOV is entirely based on who is the most important character of the scene, or who’s POV would be the most interesting to view the scene through.

ENNS is written in cinematic MPOV, with a far smaller rotating cast than the WIP I mentioned at the top of this post. It starts out slow with the protagonist for the first two chapters as the only narrator, then mid-chapter 3, I give a cue that he’s going to be unable to narrate the next bit, and I switch to my deuteragonist. I don’t give banner headings. I don’t give my characters entire chapters because the POV structure demands it. I just start whichever POV with the narrator’s name within the first 1-3 sentences. If that means one character has an entire chapter to themselves, then at this point in the story, their arc is the most important thing to be focusing on.

In the WIP at the top of the post, it was book 3 of a series which gave me some freedom. Namely that most of those 9 POVs were established characters you’d already be familiar with. I wasn’t throwing my audience into the deep end with 9 strangers and demanding they try to keep up with 6 subplots of equally confusing and unknown characters.

Cinematic MPOV should rely less on “who hasn’t narrated in a while let’s give it to them” and more “who would be the most interesting narrator for this moment”. You could have a villain POV, a one-off that might never narrate again, or a tertiary character who isn’t doing the most action in the scene, but has the richest commentary on what’s going on.

It does demand restraint. If anyone can pick up the narrator hat, then you could find yourself splitting off into unnecessary subplots. Not every piece of the story must be told and letting readers imagine what’s going on behind closed doors is sometimes better than detailing it all out. I could give a captive or missing character some POVS, or I could let the audience anxiously stew with the rest of the cast wondering if they’re even still alive.

In some books I’ve read, the deliberate choice to not let readers see into the mind of a character as they make important decisions, left on the outs with their friend or lover or relative, is maddeningly entertaining. They won’t explain themselves to the people who care about them, and they won’t explain themselves to the audience, either.

Or, you can let a side character have the spotlight for a scene or two as we see our favorites through their eyes, possibly in a way they’ve never been depicted before. A’s lover B might describe them as strong and brash. A’s old rival C might describe those same actions completely differently.

—

In terms of who narrates when, like the 9-POV monster I had going, I had key moments of every POV that had to hit the book's physical layout at specific times. Like episodes of TV, I needed certain scenes and moments and reveals to fit within specific chapters, not dangling off on either end.

I had to remember the time scale that all of this was happening on so every scene that was meant to happen simultaneously actually read like it was all going on at once. I had some chapters with the “A” group of narrators, then skipped them for a chapter for the “B” group of narrators for their scenes. Keeping the pacing as frenetic as it needed to be wasn’t easy, but if you can pull it off, I think it can be quite entertaining.

Some things to keep in mind with MPOV:

Don’t retread the same scenes or conversations. I read a fanfic a very long time ago that had I think 10 different takes on one character’s death with the dialogue copy-pasted over and over again and it was exhausting. If you want to have a character reflect on a previous scene, pull the specific lines as they remember them.

Unless messing up the timeline is the point of the story or you make it very clear that a scene happens before the present, don’t let POVs muck up the continuity. If plot happens on a Wednesday and the next scene is more important plot that happens that previous Tuesday, you might confuse your readers on when everything is meant to be happening.

Sometimes not knowing is better. Prequels tend to fail because whatever fans imagined happening is way better than what the writers explicitly show happening. Practice restraint.

Unless your story is paced very slowly, try not to have POVS butt up right against each other every time. In an action set piece, everything happens in sequence with zero black space between them. But a whole book with zero room to breathe can get tiring to read. Books with a single narrator have scene breaks and mini time skips, not every single part of your characters’ day has to be detailed.

If you don’t have banners, make it clear as quickly as possible who the new narrator is. Eventually, if your narration is distinct enough for each character, you can go a paragraph or two and your audience will know who it is anyway just based on how they think.

If these are all unknown characters, try to hop around minimally at first until you establish a clear protagonist, otherwise your readers might get lost on who the focus of the story is meant to be and lose which character is doing or thinking what.

*ETA: I forgot: typically with multiple narrators for a single “group”, like two characters stuck on a side quest together, I try to flip-flop their POVS. For example, if I have D and E with a whole chapter to themselves, the POV structure would go D E D E. To my eyes, it looks better, as they have equal share of the action. I try very hard to not let any one narrator have back-to-back POVS unless the narrative demands otherwise. But that’s just me.

—

This is personal opinion on what I think works. If you’re struggling on maintaining pacing or clarity with your ensemble cast, consider the above points. Hope this helps!

[tyrantisterror]

I've seen Utena and Evangelion get compared to each other for both being 1. dark coming of age stories that get increasingly surreal as time goes on and 2. supposedly deconstructing their respective genres. And I think there's a good basis for comparison in there, definitely, and they've both become anime I've made a point to revisit because they struck a very strong chord with me.

I think what gets me when comparing them, though, is that Utena gets to do what Evangelion sets up but never managed to finish - and some people inexplicably criticize Utena for it?

Cause Evangelion was clearly meant to be a longer series. They establish early on that there are eight Evas and eight teenage pilots for them. In the series itself we see four - well, five, technically, since an angel posing as a human named Kaworu tricks everyone into letting him pilot an eva, but still. There three side character teenagers introduced early, one of which pilots an eva (to disastrous results) while the other two remain supporting cast. It's possible they were intended to eventually be eva pilots too, but it's also possible the mystery pilots might have been foreignors like Asuka.

Either way, it's clear the story was meant to become bigger, but because of various behind the scenes reasons it didn't - it ultimately remains focused primarily on Shinji, Gendo (the true antagonist), Asuka, Rei, and to a lesser extent, Misato. And don't get me wrong, that still makes for an incredibly engaging show - I wouldn't trade any of the episodes and scenes focused on those cast members for the world, the depth to which those characters are explored is a huge part of what makes the series meaningful for me.

But Utena, while being a similarly character-focused series, does get to expand its scope in the way Evangelion set up but never paid off. The cast of Utena does get larger, and while the focus remains primarily on Utena, Anthy, the true antagonist Dio, and to a lesser extent Touga and Nanami, it finds time to shine the spotlight on a very rich supporting cast of characters. The Black Rose arc in particular is great for this, because it gives the supporting cast members introduced in the first arc - Juri, Miki, Nanami, garbage boy Saionji, and Wakaba - their own arcs and, in many cases, their own relationships with characters outside of Utena and Anthy's direct orbit. The lives and relationships of all these characters become really rich and interesting, with their own quirks and problems to overcome.

And, like, I've seen some people say this is a flaw - that these are "filler" episodes, that you can skip the Black Rose arc entirely, and it's baffling to me. The way all of these characters interplay with each other, how their struggles and arcs mirror and complement each other, is what makes the world and story of Utena so rich. It's still about Utena and Anthy in the end, but Utena and Anthy's arc is also made so much more meaningful by how it reflects the arcs of everyone around them - that ultimately all these characters are sharing facets of the same struggle, and if there's hope for Utena and Anthy at the end (and there is, especially in the movie), then there's hope for all these characters and, indeed, everyone in the audience who sympathized with them.

One thing that'll plague my imagination till the end of my days is the concept of what Evangelion would be if it could have broadened its scope the way they originally planned, and the way Utena broadens the scope of its narrative only fuels that wonder more. I'd kill to see Evangelion's Black Rose arc, and I'm so glad Utena got to have its world grow.

[worldsover]

Flawless ft. Wonyoung

Co-written with @kaedespicelatte

length ✦ 8587

genres ✧ Daddy kink, spanking, creampies, blindfolded, buttplug, (anal) princess!Wonyoung

✦✧✦✧✦✧

This flaw doesn’t count as a flaw.

Three minutes ago, Wonyoung was sitting on your lap—her “favorite seat”—but with that impatience, it became naughty grinding. A test for your self-control. Wonyoung had the slinkiest white dress wrapped around her body, more a towel or bathrobe than fashion. If she were making eye contact instead of having her back towards you, you would have had some embarrassing laundry to deal with. That was what her face did to you. She slid her ass up and down on your crotch, sitting harder, more restless than necessary for a regular chair. What subtlety. You were wearing pants, and your cock was begging to be free of them.

Three minutes later, you’re sitting on the edge of the king-sized bed, and Wonyoung is still on your lap. She’s in a new position though. Wasn’t too hard. With two hands around her slender waist, you picked her up like a misplaced toy. After bending her over, her stomach is on your thighs, and her ass is in the air. Sunlight brightens the already white room, and a beam trickling through thin curtains casts a perfect spotlight on her behind. The only thing stopping you from dropping your open palm where it belongs is one layer of expensive fabric. Now look who’s begging.

Impatience, so-called flaw, leads to perfection. No, this flaw can’t count.

Wonyoung’s head hangs. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“I don’t think you are.”

Who cares about truth. Imagine all you could do to Wonyoung in this compromised position. You could slide fingers under her dress, make her legs go limp, then bring her down to her knees, use her pretty mouth. Or you could tease with her more precise touches, feather the back of her neck or her ears, and send shivers through her whole body. You even entertain the thought of whipping out your burgeoning erection from your pants and finishing yourself off right then and there, just to ruin the pricey dress.

Your hand is on her ass, and there was never any other choice. The other hand begins the process, hikes the dress up her lithe legs, then you stop just under her asscheeks. You could stay here, stare at her thighs forever, kiss, lick, slide your cock between the smooth flesh, and though you could do as your imagination wished, you pull the hem of her dress up, revealing her thin white thong—there was never any other choice.

Wonyoung had to wear skimpy underwear for the photoshoot, and now it clings to her waist, her pussy lips. Look closer, and you find a strand of her excitement wetting the thong. All because you have her bent over. All because of the looming threat of your palm striking down. Wonyoung knows her impatience leads to satisfaction. That’s why, despite her quiet whimpers, she’s also shaking her ass; you’re certain it’s not even a conscious action.

A sharp noise follows the bluntness, the flesh jiggling. You should’ve lifted for the second strike, but in its own unconsciousness, your hand rests on her reddened asscheeks, your fingers settling in. A part of you wants to massage, soothe, and calm the woman whose hastily drawn breath was distressing. Then, she looks back. She shouldn’t have.

There’s no reason for your other hand to hit harder, to leave a deeper shade of cherry on her skin. No reason but her eyes. She says so much in a glance, a small thing. Wonyoung is tense, tired, and unsatisfied.

As much as she needs sleep or food or water, she needs this next slap on her ass. The shivers throughout her body manifest as waves of goosebumps flowing through her delicate skin. Every spank unravels her more and more—might as well pluck the ribbon off her chest.

With a hard enough spank, Wonyoung’s whole body jolts forward, causing hair to fall over her face. You slide her hair away from her eyes. One hand, you grab her face, squishing her cheeks together. Wonyoung’s eyes are pleading for you to give the reward.

“Are you my good princess?”

“Yes.” The meekness is not just in her voice but in the redness of her face.

With more and more of your rampant strikes, you notice again the underwear hanging on for dear life. Again, options. You could slide that thin fabric to the side and get your finger wetter than the faucet can. But you’re going to keep Wonyoung’s thong on. You don’t have to take it off to know what the rest of her body is telling you.

“Tell me, what do you want?”

Wonyoung stammers.

“Don’t pretend like you weren’t begging for it moments ago.”

She steels herself. “I want your cock inside me.”

You don’t know where she summoned that resolve, but you like the passion in her eyes. “Then get it.”

Of course, that means only one thing. Without delay, Wonyoung is on her knees in front of you. You remind yourself how often you have to thank every deity that you get to be in this position, that you get to witness the rarest form of a kneeling princess or whatever faultless being Wonyoung is.

If she had flaws, here in this room is where you would expose them. If she had flaws—but then, of course, she doesn’t; how could the sparkle in her eyes be a flaw? How could reverence, worship, all in a hint of a look turned to a gaze in its length? How could she do nothing yet do everything to the fire inside you hardening and lengthening your shaft to some impossibly maximal extent in front of Wonyoung’s face—how, if not for her freedom from flaw?

It was small touches then that pulled you into such a stupor that let your guard down; it’s small touches now that pull you out of your reminiscing. One of her small hands is on your sack, and her fingers graze carefully. Wonyoung giggles when she sees your dick jump at the touch.

“Daddy, you have so much cum for me, don’t you?”

You growl. Even if she didn’t notice the electric jolt her mere touch sent, she must certainly notice the firmness of your balls. She can’t hide the smile. Of course, she notices. Nothing gets past Wonyoung. That hint of a smirk on her lips becomes something else, a letter.

Oh.

And now its round, plump shape is on your cockhead, wettening, worshiping—would’ve been eye contact if you weren’t meeting her pupils with the whites of your eyes. Was on your cockhead, but now those lips are further down your length, miraculous. How can anything be that soft. How can anything give you so much pleasure. How can questions not even be questions because you don’t have that kind of faculty of mind with Wonyoung sliding her mouth, moist with spit, slathering your cock. There was a room here, there was a bed, there was the light of the sun, and none of those things exist.

When Wonyoung sucks dick, she’s in a flow state too. Lips, up, down, eyes, down, up. Lick, kiss, lick, swallow. Her specialty is the way that she bookends every suck with a kiss as if she’s making out with your cock, leaving lipstick smudged. Her lips just naturally fall onto your flesh, like they were meant to be there to soothe and nurture. The seduction of her gaze comes naturally the same way that saliva naturally flows out of the edge of her mouth when your length jabs at her throat.

Only for a moment can you look at her, accept that gaze. It’s already too much sensation, feeling her stimulate your cock, but when you see that perfect pretty face impaled on you, you can barely hold back. Not that she can either. You thought she was wet when you were spanking her, but there’s a veritable sliver of translucent juice from between her legs. Every stroke of her mouth brings a little more wetness.

A pulse in your core. Every stroke of her mouth brings a little more of what’s trapped in your sack. Deliberately sampling, Wonyoung taps the tip of her tongue at the seed dripping out, and she lets out a small moan of delight.

“Daddy, I love the taste of your cum. But I need it somewhere.” Wonyoung’s wandering hands move down her own torso till she rubs her midriff for emphasis. There was no other ending to begin with.

Wonyoung ends the blowjob with a purposeful gag, getting spit to run down from her thick lips to her expensive necklace. It’s elegant, shiny, understated. These would have all been ways you would have described Wonyoung—then you clean up the saliva on her collarbone with a finger, and she grabs your digit with her mouth, suckling.

It’s a picture you wish you keep forever, but not even the perfect photograph could capture the high in your system. She’s eager, bouncy, and ready for however you’re about to ravage her.

Not that ready though.

Wonyoung yelps when you pull her off the ground, off her knees, and practically carry her like she’s just a couple bags of groceries. It’s cruel, your love of watching any speck of confidence disappear from Wonyoung. You could tell some kindling inside of her was being sparked as she sucked your cock. Every time she steals a degree of heat from your body, a breath of air from your lungs, a thought from your head, she gets off from it. But what gets her off even more—watch her panties; they’re getting even darker—is when you have your hands on her wrists—oh, how slender, how easy she is to hold down. You have to suppress yourself from some absurd animalistic noise, from some immediate urge to take her right now. Other plans await, and begin at your word:

“Such a naughty, naughty princess. How can you be this beautiful, this perfect, yet still so filthy?”

Hands held against the bed, Wonyoung looks up at you in total surrender. “D-daddy… it’s, it’s your cock.” Then her eyes go down your body.

A Sword of Damocles above her midriff. Wonyoung’s words came with dripping desperation, or in other words, drool; it matches how your cock is slathered in her spit. You slap your shaft against her stomach, then trace a finger around her belly button.

“After I fuck you into a bumbling mess,” you say with a paradoxical lightness, “I’m going to breed you, fill you up, deposit every last drop into your womb.”

Then you start to finger her, no restraint in the pumping of your digits into her slit. Wonyoung is half-surprised at the suddenness, half-pouting that it’s not your dick deep inside her. Two fingers in and out, mechanical yet you have a familiarity with her body that ensures she’s in a daze. Watch her slender frame twist and writhe in pleasure, and you watch with a wry grin.

Your tone follows your smile, your confidence. “These sheets look so expensive. It's a shame that we're about to ruin them.”

After all, it’s so surprisingly easy to bring her mind past the brink. Fingers rub that soft spot several inches deep, while one digit begins to focus on that small nub past her pretty pussy lips. Barely takes a minute or two for your fingers to get Wonyoung squirting all over them. Warm slickness covers your digits, your forefinger slipping in between her folds. Your thumb rubs circles around her clit as she convulses beneath your fingertips.

Wonyoung groans loudly. When your wrist brushes across her neck, she goes rigid, whimpers cut off by an exhale.

The deliberate exit of your fingers spells the end of this prologue that’s dragged on for far too long, and Wonyoung seems to share the sentiment. Her eyes shine with a familiar glee as she guides your hands behind her. Her thin digits exude uncharacteristic strength to tug yours beneath the silkiness of her dress, almost as if she’s hinting at something as she leans ever so slightly forward—

“Time for the main course, Daddy?” Wonyoung asks, the angelic smile dimpling her face yet again.

No more time nor patience for panties on her legs, the dress on her body. As much as she needs your dick, you need her completely bare and ready for you to ravage. Expensive clothes, soaked underwear, thrown to the floor like it's nothing. It is nothing.

You pull off the dampened sheets, push her back down onto the mattress. Wonyoung opens her mouth without a hint of trepidation and stretches her arms out to pull you in for a kiss, but you realize you haven't removed your clothes either, so you tear your pants, your shirt, everything else off your body in half a motion.

“Come stuff your big fat hard cock in me, Daddy.”

Even the most ridiculous sentences coming from Wonyoung’s lips sound elegant. You climb over the foot of the bed and straddle her thighs, letting your hips settle atop hers, then let your lips graze hers. Your hands aren’t nearly as gentle, a rough grasp on her breasts and a finger sliding on her slit.

Wonyoung moans softly, her tongue curling into your mouth. You kiss harder, her legs wrapping around yours, her fingers digging into your back, her fingernails scratching at your skin. You moan against her lips, her tongue parting yours, then pushing into your mouth. Your fingers dig into her hips as you start to move, grinding against her, your cock throbbing, wetting the sheets beneath you.

Your lips leave hers though your eyes never leave. As you align your cock at her entrance, Wonyoung gives you a nod. There's always that adorable glint of uncertainty like it's the first time. Always feels like it. See, your thick cock can’t ever just slide inside Wonyoung’s tiny hole; it’s almost unnatural; you’d break her in half. That’s why you have to do everything to make her torrentially wet. You do everything from teasing her slit with your tip, sliding it up and down, to caressing every inch of her skin, never letting Wonyoung cool down from the flames you’re stoking. Slap, slap, you slap your length against her labia, and Wonyoung lets out small yelps.

Slow, slide in. Time slips. Who knows how long it took for you to push your shaft all the way inside. The clock doesn’t, you’re keeping as little track as the timepiece on the wall, and Wonyoung’s eyes are rolled back so far she might even see her brain short-circuiting.

You guide her cheek to look at you as you bottom out, and the two of you savor the combination. It’s nothing new—you’ve fucked the wind out of her plenty before—but you really can’t get enough of perfection. Perfection is the way her long legs tremble, the way her mouth doesn’t know whether to tense in harsh tightness or smile dumbly, the way she gets even redder when you lean down for a kiss.

A few strokes, enough friction to set off fireworks in your skull. One thrust, one. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven—there must be some other number to which you count—who knows what it would be. You let go of her hand to push against the mattress and find some stability: you're about to make the bed creak; you're about to fuck Wonyoung into the bed. When she opens her eyes, eyelashes fluttering, and smiles at you, your so-called free will is limited again. There's nothing else to do but to thrust deeper, faster, harder. Wonyoung's gasping voice echoes through the walls as you bury your cock in her, pounding her, stretching her, filling her.

Already, the world melts away until it becomes only fundamental sensations: the warmth of her cunt milking your dick, her nails scratching along your back, the sight of her flushed cheeks, her puffy lips, the sweat dotting your brow, the smell of her sweet perfume.

That's not just the bed now: Wonyoung is squeaking, mewling as you pound her. Her legs quiver, her toes curl, and she's grabbing at the sheets, crying out. You're fucking her as hard as possible, but you need harder. You want to shatter the universe with each stroke, rip a hole in reality because the momentary euphoria after orgasm is nothing compared to this overwhelming bliss. Then again, it looks like her glee is certainly reaching new heights.

You groan louder than she does, bellowing like a wild beast as you plow into her pussy. It's not just your balls that are swollen; your whole body is taut, your heart thudding against your chest. But you need this moment to last longer, and Wonyoung feels too damn good like this. The way her pussy clenches as her body shakes when she orgasms is too much for you to handle. After fucking Wonyoung through her climax, you stop for a moment, earning pouting and whimpering from the girl beneath you.

"Why?" she whines.

You only give her an acknowledging grunt before you wrap your arms around her back to pick her up. With her limber limbs, it's so easy to twist her until she has her long legs folded above her head, her back against your chest. It's as if she's a mere toy to your strength.

Wonyoung confirms it herself: “Oh, fuck, Daddy, I’m your fuckdoll, please, fuck me hard.” She’s gasping even though you’re the one doing all the work.

She’s perfectly content to just let her eyes roll into her head, to let her thoughts become null and void. Why would Wonyoung need to think when she can just get pistoned hard by that big cock making her pussy sore and begging for more. She’s perfectly content to just let her eyes roll into her head, to let her thoughts become null and void. Why would Wonyoung need to think when she can just get pistoned hard by that big cock making her pussy sore and begging for more. Automatically, her hips buck against your thighs as you slam your cock against her pussy.

You can see how wet and slippery she is with just a glance downward. A waterfall of pussy juices slides down her thighs and drips onto the floor. Your cock is already coated in wetness from previous thrusts into Wonyoung's tight hole. You want to feel your warm load spurt out and drench every inch of her insides, but not yet. She's buckling and shaking. She wants the exact same—no, she needs it even more. Giving Wonyoung kisses on her neck, she strains her head back, her mouth open with a sound she's struggling to get out through heavy breaths. You too are feeling the burn in your thighs. You have to tighten your grip around her knees to make sure you're still carefully holding the most precious, delicate person to you (not that you're treating her as such). No matter how light she may be, it requires considerable effort on your part. So after slowing down your pace of fucking, you take a few steps towards the wall, still keeping Wonyoung's legs over her head, your dick well-impaled inside her cunt.

With your back to the wall, you can thrust as hard as you want. You find depths and intensities that you didn't know were possible. Her pert little ass bounces against your waist, sweat drips down both your bodies, and slight yelps turn to shouts that test the hotel room's noise insulation.

"W-wow, Daddy!" Wonyoung cries out when you resume your torrid pistoning, "God, keep going, ohhh, yes, I'm gonna cum soon."

Here's the flaw, returning, a ghost. It haunts in a small way. It reminds you of your flaws: your climax is soon to arrive. But when you look at her body and her angelic face as she turns back to look at you, open-mouthed, you want this flaw to dissipate, to stay in this moment forever. So yet again, you interrupt her impending cumming by throwing her onto the bed. So yet again, she looks like a plaything, a perfect one, but one so easy to throw nonetheless.

“Fuuck.” Wonyoung takes many long breaths. A slight, vague smile.

After all, she’s not so fragile; you knew that. The first time you fucked her, the back of a big black van with tinted windows, you couldn’t even pretend like you could hold back. This is where your role as her favorite seat started. The two of you were testing the van’s suspension— there weren’t exactly any potholes for the parked car to drive over. After you got over the tightness of her cunt, you were pulling her hair as she was clawing into your back, and she called you “Daddy” just as she’s repeating now.

“Daaddy. Come here.”

Watch how her heart beats out of her chest, how the flawless flaw never even crosses her mind because she’s too lost in her lust. Though already parted by your cock, she spreads her pussy more and looks at you with a twinkle that’s far too innocent, and lips that can’t pretend the same innocence as they drip with drool.

“Please. I need to cum on your cock.” You can’t ever resist a begging Wonyoung for too long.

Once you climb back onto the bed, you position yourself above her chest, placing your cock right across her face. “You need it that bad, huh?”

Wonyoung nods assuredly, and places as many kisses as she can on your balls, on the underside of your cock, before letting your tip rest on her suckling lips.

“Looks like you do.” Of course, you’re going to breed her, but you have to get a real taste of her throat while you’re here. Though she always pushes herself as deep as she can when she gives you her loving blowjobs, it’s not the same as fucking her face.

So when you grab the bottom of her lip, Wonyoung knows exactly what you want. You push your hips forward, and your cock slides right—well, there’s that barrier first. Back of her mouth, causing her to choke. You like the way her eyes water. You get a little more when you place your hand on her throat, a sadistic glee when you feel the bulge against her neck. Her arms struggle, and you let that helplessness linger for a little longer.

Wonyoung looks nearly pissed at you when you finally release your hold, both your cock and your hand. You’ve watched her take your shaft down her throat for so long—such addiction to the taste (maybe that’s another flaw)—she almost passed out. With this next thrust, you watch, and feel, her outstretched tongue slide against the bottom of your shaft, and this time, you start to ramp up in speed, until her mouth becomes another pussy for you to fuck. You love to hear the “glugh” sounds from every deep insertion, love to see her eyelids twitch and eyebrows raise. It’s almost as if you don’t have the most beautiful face underneath you, just some fleshlight.

But as much as you’d love to fill her throat with cum, you remember what your end goal is. You dismount from her chest and ask her, “You said you wanted to cum on my cock, right?”

“Yesss, Daddy.”

You know exactly what makes her even more sensitive.

You get up, and Wonyoung watches you as you grab a white cloth strip by the bedside. You’re not even sure why the hotel provides it—it’s a thin small towel? —but it’ll suit your needs perfectly.

With a come-hither gesture, Wonyoung sits up.

You wrap the cloth around her eyes. “You trust Daddy, right?”

“Of course. Do whatever you want with me. I’m your princess, your toy.”

“Good girl.” Before returning to pick Wonyoung up again, you grab a couple other things from a bag—a shiny metal buttplug, a small bottle of lube. You set them aside.

You’ll always love throwing Wonyoung around on a bed. It’s just too easy, too fun to listen to the squeals. After you flip her prone onto her stomach, her pert little ass is right there—you have no choice but to give each cheek a spank. Two spanks. Three for good measure. Then, grab her hips and lift them up. Right now, there’s no point blindfolding Wonyoung when she’s in this face-down ass-up position. But you have other plans.

A favorite pastime of yours: slapping your cock against Wonyoung. This time, her needy cunt is the target, and every slap earns an adorable yelp, though muffled by the sheets.

Wonyoung is desperately trying to fuck her pussy into your cock, but she can’t see anything.

“Please, Daddy, put it in, put it in! Daddy, please, I need your cum in me so bad, I need it, I do.” The whine in her voice is genuine, the lack of seed inside Wonyoung leaving her unfulfilled in a despondent way.

So you decide to go ahead. As you guide the tip of your cock to its destination, you press the base of the shaft against the crack between her asscheeks, spreading them wide open with two hands digging into the flesh and exposing the entrance to her vagina.

Wonyoung is ready to let out a scream that echoes off the walls. And once she realizes that you haven't actually shoved your penis into her, she moans and pants and says, "Oh God, oh Daddy, don't tease me like thaaat, pleassse. I'll do anything for you if you put that monster cock inside of me. Put it inside of me, Daddy." She tries to say something else, but then she chokes. Her hands move under the sheets, grasping for the bedsheet as her body shudders and trembles. You slide your dick between her pretty pussy lips, between her asscheeks, collecting all the wetness, and while you’re at it, adding a bit more with generous spit.

“Remember what you were practicing for before we left?”

Between groaning and whimpering, as you press the tip of your cock up and down her slit, tempting to put it in, Wonyoung manages to let out a little “hmm?”

You grab the metal plug next to you and balance it on her ass. You love seeing her head tilt in confusion at the cold metal.

“What’s that, Daddy?”

“Can you guess?”

"Uhh..."

You then grab the bottle of lube and squirt an ample amount on her butt. Some of it drips down her back, sending chills to the spine underneath, while most of it drips between her buttcheeks. To make sure it doesn't go to waste, whatever drips, you collect with a finger then spread on her asshole, carefully teasing her by never actually putting your finger inside.

She shudders. “Oh.” Shudders again. “Ohh, ffuuck. Yes, yes, y-yes. Daddy, are you gonna do it?”

You smile.

Her breathing comes in shallow gulps as she feels the buttplug press against her tight hole and your cock seated on her pussy lips, a two-fold tease that leaves her frustrated—you and she both know she deserves it. Then it's a long whine into the pillows when you just massage her asscheeks and thighs for a while. She looks back even though she's blindfolded; you realize it's so that she can show off her sweet pout.

You slowly sink the buttplug into her ass. You can't get enough of the way her hole widens around the plug, clinging and expanding, while the rest of Wonyoung's body tenses up.

"You okay?"

Though she whimpers, she also nods. You pause for a few moments after hearing her cry out, enjoying her pleasure as her asshole clenches tightly around the cold metal plug. You squeeze her cheeks together, holding her still as you thrust halfway in and out.

"Oh, fuuuck, Daddy, is that what it's gonna feel like when you fuck me there?"

"Even better princess. It's gonna be warm and thick and you're gonna feel all my cum inside your tummy."

"Ahh!" she yelps out when you finally push the plug into its hole. "Fuck me. I've been a good girl."

You reach over and grab your cock which resting on Wonyoung's quivering pussy lips and slide your shaft between her asscheeks. feeling her shiver in response. "Really? How many times have you begged me to put my cock inside your tight little ass, princess?"

"I dunno… too many to count," Wonyoung whispers as she starts grinding her hips back and forth to meet your strokes.

"Doesn't sound like a good girl."

"But I am? But I am!" Her tone is sugary sweet.

"Still not sure this pussy deserves it. See, you're pushing your ass into me like a greedy slut."

"Nnnh, but I'm your slut, Daddy. I'm a slut for your big dick, and that makes me a good girl, the best princess." All the while, she keeps thrusting back into you, when suddenly, her cunt slurps your cock up, your tip suctioned like it's nothing. Wonyoung is so talented that she doesn’t even need to see to fuck her pussy into your cock. She groans. "See, Daddy, that's where it belongs."

You grunt in disapproval, but you're already inside of her and pulling out is one of those Thor feats—not for humans like you. So in one snap of your hips, you drive your cock into her pussy, and to show your annoyance, you slap her ass over and over, re-reddening the sensitive skin from earlier.

"Ahh! Daddy!"

"That's right, princess." In and out, every pistoning motion is blowing your mind, especially how she reciprocates every thrust with one of her own, fucking herself into your crotch, but you can't let that stop your reprimand. "You have to learn your lesson."

She can only repeat her yelps and mewls which only grow louder when you slam yourself against her G-spot, reach for her clit, toy with the buttplug in her ass by pulling it out slightly and letting it go for her asshole to receive once again. Wonyoung’s whole body is trembling with desire. Her pussy is contracting and molding to the shape of your cock—must be intense without sight. Her cries echo off the walls, the only way she knows she’s still in this room. "Daddy, Daddy, please, I'm begging you. Fill my pussy up, fill it with cum. Give me the biggest load ever."

Without warning, you pull out—so you do have some deity blood in you—flip her over onto her back, then grab her ankles, spreading her legs and lifting them up.

Wonyoung is still blindfolded, so there's no way for her to know when you'll resume your pounding. "Daddy, are you gonna keep—oh!"

Of course, you don't delay. In this mating press position, Wonyoung can't use her arms or shoulders to resist, so you take full advantage. Her petite breasts bounce freely beneath her as you pound her cunt mercilessly, slamming her against the mattress, giving her the kind of hard, fast, rough fucking reserved for pornstars, not princesses and idols like her. Your balls slap against her crotch and she gasps out loud, calling your name while her nails claw the bedsheets. That buttplug and the blindfold contribute to making Wonyoung's inner walls clench your shaft tight. Even without being able to see what's happening, her screams tell you everything about how she’s feeling. How close she is.

Your rhythm is relentless yet calculated. You know her body well enough to slow down just right so that she doesn’t cum yet. You’re not just trying to edge her, though that is part of your impetus. The timing needs to be perfect.

As much as she’s begging, you hold off until you hear her start crying in frustration. She's completely unintelligible, barely getting out words: "Cum, Daddy, please, cum, cum, I need, I’m, princess, nnhgh, inside, fuck, mm, fuck."

Wonyoung arches her back whenever you plunge deep into her, forcing her to stretch out further. To feel her pussy wrap your cock at its tightest, you bring her feet together, holding her legs up in the air above her. Every time you bury your member within her, you watch her mouth drop open as she lets out a breathless scream.

You let go of her legs, and they naturally spread out on the mattress. Your shaft is completely engulfed by her walls. You lean down to kiss her neck, her collarbones, her shoulders, all milky white.

Wonyoung gives you an innocent smile, unable to see. Then you thrust once. "Your cock..." Twice. "Makes me so..." Three times. "So happy."

The smile doesn’t fade though. You can’t see her eyes, but they must be filled with bliss. Listen to her giggling. Then, as you pick up the pace, she bends her head back and with her mouth open, her tongue falls out naturally. Look at this. Perfection. It must be.

Her pussy's spraying out copious amounts of juices; look, you'll get the pages wet, or the words wet, or whatever. Wonyoung is tense yet shaking at the same time. Your shaft has never felt so throttled before. There's no artist nor writer that can completely explain the heights of pleasure you're both peaking towards. Your balls contract as the seed builds up within your testicles, waiting for release.

The orgasmic wave hits you first, ripple upon ripple through your entire body. No ink could possibly draw the mess you made inside Wonyoung's womb. Then the next wave hits Wonyoung. This is where the words fail for the wild sounds that break through. Where the words learn imperfection because they could never achieve the same bliss that Wonyoung is feeling in her shaking and her shouting and her cunt clenching your throbbing, spurting cock. There was never art; if you tried to explain its existence, it would have to go up against this kiss, these tongues, yours and Wonyoung's. This was closer to the raison d'etre, closer to the divine, closer to the best descriptions of the fluids and feelings between your crotches right now. Wonyoung's face goes from pain to bliss to confusion to pure euphoria and back again and all of these were without flaw. Her eyes are hidden, but all else is clear: the red of her cheeks, the raising of her eyebrows, the pull of her lips any which way. All this while warm cum spills out and makes her pussy all creamy as it milks your cock for all the seed inside, and maybe this vulgar truth, so flawed, is the best any one man can do. Maybe these last few thrusts are the best you can do.

There were flaws because it ended because it had to, and there weren't flaws because the moment happened because it always had to.

A few more ins and outs, ins and outs, lazy, lazy, slow. You've never seen so much white coat your shaft, never seen so much white flow out from between Wonyoung's legs.

Wonyoung's hands flail weakly in front of her face, and her body sways from side to side. Her hair falls across her forehead and you run your fingers along her scalp.

"Are you okay, princess?"

Her body stiffens for a second and she pulls her hair away from her eyes. When she nods, you lay next to her. "Fuck. Your cum is the best, your cock is the best... you're the best, Daddy."

"You too."

The two of you stay like that for quite a while, neither wanting to move since the afterglow of such intense lovemaking hasn't left either of you yet.

"Hey," she says eventually. "I'm going to wash up."

You stop her when she reaches for the cloth around her eyes. “Wait, not yet."

Wonyoung's head tilts. "Huh? But I'm sweaty, Daddy."

Perfect.

"Follow me,” you say. You grab the bottle of lube still on the bed next to you.

With her hand in yours, you lead Wonyoung across the room. She steps carefully as you bring her to the bathroom. Take a moment to glance at her full body in front of the large round mirror, covered in sweat, dripping with cum, nothing on but a blindfold and buttplug—a far cry from the elegance of the photoshoots and the modeling she’s been doing. Wonyoung is perfectly lit by the LEDs surrounding the mirror, an artisan’s statue before you.

“You look so beautiful like this,” you say. Cup her tits; they fit perfectly in your hands. Wonyoung squirms, not expecting the touch. Your lips find their way onto her addictively delicate neck once again, peppering her with kisses hard enough to plant hickies all over. This time, however, she tastes different—the sweat glazing her skin smears a hint of saltiness all over your tastebuds. "You taste so beautiful, sound so beautiful, everything. You're such a perfect princess."

“Where are we, Daddy?”

Finally, you remove the blindfold.

“Ohh.” Wonyoung leans on the edge of the sink to look at herself. Can’t blame her. You gaze at her too; making eye contact with Wonyoung in the mirror messes up your pulse a beat as always.

You stand behind her, your cock nestling just right between her buttcheeks. (The metal of her buttplug is cool to the sensitive touch of your tip.) Point to the small plastic bottle you set down on the marble countertop. “Look at this. You know what that is, don’t you?”

“Y-yes, Daddy. That’s the lube.”

You smile sweetly at Wonyoung. “Do you know what I'm going to do with that?”

Wonyoung nods. Her legs rub together in anticipation of what's to come, and as the realization really sets in, her butt wiggles in the most cock-teasing way possible. She slides her ass against your soft—now, half-hard—cock.

“Don't just nod, use your words instead.”

“S-sorry. D-daddy is going to fuck my ass—”

“Be more specific. Come on, you can do better than this.”

“D-daddy is gonna pull the buttplug out of my ass, and, and bend me over the sink,” Wonyoung bites her lower lip as the shade of red on her face thickens, “and—and then put the lube in me and, uh, and stretch my tight little asshole with his big fat cock—”

“Bingo, clever girl.” You give her another quick peck on her cheek. “So what are you waiting for?”

Wonyoung places her elbows on the sink's counter, leans forward, arches her spine, and raises her heels, presenting her ass. The metallic buttplug sparkles and you reach for the bright toy. At the slowest possible speed, you work the plug out, earning whimpers from Wonyoung’s lips. It pops out with a satisfying sound, and her asshole is subtly gaped by the small insertion. You throw the metal toy to the corner of the bathroom countertop.

“I feel so empty, Daddy. Fill me.”

Reach for your erection and—when did you get this hard again. Must’ve been when you watched your seed drip between Wonyoung's long legs. Must’ve been when you tasted her petite tits. No, no, it must be—Watch her eyes in the mirror, how they flash these different emotions, but they're all as foggy as the reflective surface. A touch of fear—she knows just how much bigger your dick is than the buttplug—a bit of exhaustion from the first session—so much cum in her womb that she had to have been bred—but the biggest portion is crystal clear lust. In itself, a reflection of your own hunger.

No, no, she’s hungrier. First, Wonyoung notices the cum spilling from her cunt and quickly scoops some of it. But in tasting your load, she starts to drool and you can see the idea form in her head. She opens her mouth, drools out a glob of spit, and rubs her hands. Then, she reaches behind her with both hands, quickly finding your dick to work with those drool-covered palms and digits. If you weren’t sure about your hardness, now you are. She spends some time stroking and twisting her pretty fingers on half of your shaft while rubbing your cock’s tip against her ass.

No matter how good this feels, eventually, you have to stop her. You grab the bottle. Same as the first time, you waste a good amount of it by letting it fall down her ass and legs because the way her skin glistens even more is mesmerizing. You come up with good ideas quickly too; you slather your shaft with the lube that’s dripping down, rubbing yourself all over her thighs, her buttcheeks, even collecting some of your cum from her pussy lips. Whatever fluids you can get, you need.

“You’re Daddy’s toy, right?” You grip your now sufficiently slick cock with your hand, your tip resting right on the squinting hole.

“Mmmhm.”

You whisper, “I’m breaking you then.” Push your cockhead forward into her asshole, and you begin to slowly inch it deeper and deeper.

Wonyoung whimpers softly. You want her to cry, but not yet. You can't wait to get past her sphincter muscle, though the tightness around your cockhead already feels heavenly. Deep breath, push harder. You grunt as you feel something, or maybe everything, loosen, every muscle fiber of her body loosens at the thickness penetrating her. Wonyoung lets out a little yelp; you know it won't stay quiet for long. Her petite ass is being split apart by your cock in an addicting way. Addicting in sight, addicting in sensation. You can't get enough because how can you get enough of this flawless feeling. This pressure on your shaft is pressure in your mind so that even the first insertion is even more extreme than fucking her freshly-creampied pussy.

Feels too good already. A rush of pride knowing you took her anal virginity. You are fixed in place, your legs locked, your feet firm where they are. So Wonyoung is the one who fucks her ass into your cock. It takes much effort on her part, however. She’s adorable when she tries to wiggle herself down into your shaft, especially since she has to go through the strain of your width against her tight hole.

Every time Wonyoung does anything, it’s in earnest. Wonyoung can let you take charge, yet she’s fighting for every inch of your cock, for the glory of having you as her seat, as she always does. After long groans and tight grasps—you’re holding her hips; she’s holding the sink—your dick is fully lodged within her asshole, which squeezes and stretches your shaft, already begging for your load.

You think for a moment that you have to start slow here, but Wonyoung, the burgeoning anal slut, immediately starts bouncing like a bunny—funny, it’s not like you can breed her ass, but damn is Wonyoung trying her best to find out if that’s possible. While you’ve let go of her waist, Wonyoung is pushing her hands into the mirror, leaving her hot breath as fog.

Other than your own moans, you can only clench your fists and your jaw and your neck and every muscle in your body feeling Wonyoung’s anal entrance grip up and down your cock over and over. An incredible warmth, even as you re-apply lube. She does not stop backing her ass into you at a rapid pace.

You’re wordless, no dirty talk, no punishing Wonyoung for her boundless need. You’re happy to accept Wonyoung as she quickly gets accustomed to the sensation, seeing how her eyes are rolling up into her head and her mouth is contorting with unsure pleasure.

Surprisingly, she has plenty left to say.

"Daddy...oh, Daddy!"

Well, it’s more than you at least.

Wonyoung throws her head back, squeezing her eyes shut. Her voice barely audible as she moans, she says, "Your dick, mmnh, is so huge, Daddy! Ohhh… ffuck, ngh, it hurts so good. I need it, I need it all."

Her arms tremble slightly as she rocks her hips faster, her breasts heaving from the exertion and excitement. Your balls hit her cheeks with every powerful thrust into you. You’ve never ceded so much control to this girl before, but when you’re receiving the privilege of anally fucking Wonyoung, you’ll take whatever, however.

“Gonna cum in my ass too, right? Gonna cum in both my holes, turn me into a total cumslut for you Daddy, a complete, hnh, whore for your cum.”

She sounds like it. That much is for certain. As much as your cock in her ass is a new feeling for her, it’s totally novel for you too. Not even the tightest grip with your own hands could compete. And it’s a messy endeavor, what with all the lube that you squirt on and the sweat and the carnal smell of sex. Pussy juice forms strings from Wonyoung’s quivering pussy. Your every pounding slam into her butthole is accentuated by shivering from her legs, arching from her back.

You watch Wonyoung tire herself out trying to fuck her ass on your dick, trying to milk out your cum into her tummy. Hold her sides again, but your hands can’t stay in one spot for long. You reach up towards her chest and play with her erect nipples; you spend a dozen or two dozen thrusts with your hand around her neck, on her mouth, making her eyes water; you grab her hair and pull forcefully—no grip is enough. She was supporting herself by placing her hands on the sink, but her elbows collapse at the intensity. You catch her and slow down.

Keep in mind Wonyoung’s tight ring is still wrapped around the base of your cock. So your words come out short and breathless. “Are you okay?”

Wonyoung gulps and nods slowly.

“Hmm.” You wrap your arms around her torso and the two of you shamble toward the large rectangular tub in the middle of the room. Sitting down against the bathtub’s edge, you’re right where you started: Wonyoung using you as her chair.

In the mirror, Wonyoung barely has any stamina left, her eyes and her mouth half-open. You peel Wonyoung off you by gripping her slender waist and pulling upward, and her asshole grips your cock in kind. There’s something about this languid motion that’s unbearably intoxicating, making you light-headed. You can’t even bring her halfway up your cock, so you let go and she slowly sits back down. She wants to start bouncing again, but you can tell by her broken breaths that she’s exhausted.

You thrust upwards into Wonyoung, holding her body in place like a cocksleeve and jerking your hips.

“Oh, fuck, you’re in my stomach.”

You might as well be with that bulge your cock is making on her midriff. At this angle, you’re hitting every organ you can inside Wonyoung, mixing up her guts, might as well be. She’s reduced to hitched breaths, to unseemly noises. You’re reduced too, initial pulsations of your body signaling what’s nigh.

There have been many places you’ve cum with Wonyoung. You’ve painted her ethereal face with your cum, ruining it into perfection plenty of times. Every inch of her skin has seen some sort of semen coating: her armpits, her delicate fingers, her flat midriff, her thighs, her feet—it’d be easier to count the spots you’ve missed. But it’s Wonyoung’s holes that make the best receptacles for your load. She’s incredibly practiced at swallowing your load. Wonyoung can be in the middle of talking with her mouth full of cock, when suddenly you’d burst at the seams, and she would happily receive every drop. You know the highs she obtains whenever you breed her needy womb, how she milks you with simultaneous orgasms.

This place is new. A new sin, flaw, mistake. You’re holding onto Wonyoung as tight as possible, wrapping both arms around, one around her belly and one around her tits. Gaining as much leverage as possible, you rapidly pound your cock into Wonyoung’s now sore asshole—you can tell by how she’s yelping, how tears drip down her face, how she’s writhing in her favorite seat. You’d almost feel bad if you didn’t feel so good, or if Wonyoung weren’t calling “Yes, Daddy, yes” every thrust.

You try to keep yourself together as long as possible, chasing what can’t be chased, but once you hear Wonyoung scream, your climax overtakes you completely. Your body is flooded with internal fire; Wonyoung’s ass is flooded with a thick creamy load. Even if every muscle of yours is begging for you to slow down, you can’t. This doesn’t feel like your second orgasm. Somehow, you’re cumming even more, unloading everything you have. Count this flaw, this wicked painting inside Wonyoung’s guts, as another facet of flawlessness. Somehow there’s grace to the way she receives all this cum.

While you’re riding out your endless throbs, Wonyoung finds a bit of strength again, riding your cock as it shoots rope after rope of your seed deep within her. Filling her up so much, you notice cum leaking past her asshole, which makes your shaft all creamy white. The ghost once more: brilliance must fade. The back-and-forth bouncing and thrusting between the two of you slow down eventually.

“Daaaddy, that felt… incredible.” Wonyoung leans back on you as your cock slips out, and you scoot both of your bodies into the bathtub below you.

By the twinkle in Wonyoung’s eye, you have a feeling that this first time won’t be close to the last. In fact, when you turn on the warm water to take a bath, she just can’t stop kissing and hugging you. Doesn’t matter how naughty it is that cum is dripping out both of her holes. She happily makes out with you, her tongue exploring your mouth. Eventually, the two of you get to scrub each other with soap.

The only reason you’re not hard right now is that you’re sore from the multiple orgasms, the tightness of Wonyoung’s holes draining you of everything you have. Despite this, Wonyoung’s eyelids drop as she cuddles against you in the warm water. You drain the tub, dry her off, and carry her back to the bed.

Perfection even sleeps gorgeously.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

[nectar-cellar]

Hi, how are you! I was wondering what nose sliders you use? I’m jealous that you don’t use nosemasks! I need the tea

heyyy :3 oh i have a wall of text for you.

i only avoid nose mask makeup because i can never remember which one i used on who + i dislike color matching as i can never get it exactly right. so i just avoid it to keep it simple for myself. i try to keep makeup minimal on my sims since i often change up their makeup. i like the look of it on other people's sims, it can add a lot to an aesthetic, you should go ahead and use them if you want!

well the first thing is to use a skin that already has a cute nose on it, because you don't want to fight with a texture you dislike.

i end up adjusting a lot of sliders... i can't think of an easy way to describe how i shape the nose. i'll give some general tips for how i personally do it below. i do have my sliders folder up for download in my tagged/dl: sims if you want it but i think it's more about how you use any sliders you do have and the overall shape/proportions of the nose, rather than which sliders because there is no one slider that will create the ideal nose. it's more about creating your own nose-sculpting technique which i'm sure is different for everyone, and creating a nose that suits the sim you're envisioning.

my hobby is watching makeup and plastic surgery videos so i guess i think about noses and facial features a lot. i will discuss tips, settings, and specific sliders below...

i am only sharing my process, there is no correct way to make sims, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and nose shapes can vary so much.

i like to start with a clean slate. if i'm doing a townie makeover i will usually have a look at their slider settings and reset any extreme ones back to zero, or reduce those settings to less extreme values.

head section -> i set the (base game) Face Profile slider to about 100 or 200. this brings the nose and chin out so you get more projection from the 3/4 view and from the side no matter what your nose settings are.

nose section -> (base game) Nose Definition slider: i keep this one between -100 to 100. i like a softer look to the nose. at higher settings i find the definition looks too harsh. for flatter noses especially for sims of colour i'll reduce the nose definition to -50 or -100, sometimes more if it looks right.

(base game) Nose Scale and Nose Width sliders: i usually will reset these to zero if i'm doing a townie makeover because i often disagree with EA's slider values. the nose anchors the face so by setting it back to zero it helps me judge other proportions of the face, as well as parts of the nose itself. the nose scale and width are usually the final adjustments i make.

(base game) Nose Mass slider: for very defined noses i tend to keep this at zero or 25, for softer or flatter noses i will increase this to around 100 or more, it just adds softness/mass/width to the nose bridge area.

(base game) Nose Rotate slider: i keep this slider fairly neutral between -75 and 75. when deciding on the upturned/downturned angle of the nose, i adjust this slider first, then go back and adjust more later if needed.

(base game) Nose Tip Scale slider: this affects how much the nose tip juts out from the side view, and how wide your nose tip looks from the front. i usually keep this one at -50 to -200. it's about proportions though. you might want to enlarge the nose tip if the profile lacks outward projection, or if you're just sculpting a nose with a bigger and wider tip. if you already have quite a defined, strong nose then you might want to make the tip smaller to keep the nose shape overall proportionate. if you have a large nose tip, you might want to make other parts of the nose smaller/weaker to sort of let the bulbous nose tip have its spotlight.

(base game) Nose Tip Rotate slider: after i do the Nose Rotate slider, i go to this slider to decide how much i should rotate the nose tip specifically, to see what angle looks good with the nose's overall angle.

Nose Tip Width slider: pretty self explanatory, you can create a daintier or stronger nose tip by adjusting the width. cc slider linked below. not sure if base game has one

Nose Tip Height slider: so this defines how high or low the nose tip "stretches" down, kinda hard to describe and the right setting depends on the nose shape but i use this quite often. it miiight be a cc slider i'm not sure

(base game) nose bridge sliders: for the profile, i adjust the nose bridge depth, nose bridge rotation, and nose bridge height sliders to get the angle i want. then i adjust the nose bridge width which affects how the sim looks from straight on.

finally for the nostrils, i usually set the definition, height, scale back to zero then i adjust it to be proportionate with the nose i'm sculpting. also i will fine-tune the rotation of the nostrils here to make them more or less flared. you can use the Nostril Scale slider and the Nose Width slider together as they both affect how wide the nose looks.

sliders i love

thornsofpeace - thornsboxynosetip slider. so this slider basically creates a narrower, more defined nose tip that i cannot replicate with any other slider. i keep it at 0 to 100, maybe up to 200 for very defined/prominent noses. or very itty bitty bella hadid noses.

simtanico - nostril widen slider. this slider makes the nostrils wider which is very useful and can't really be replicated with other sliders. i usually set this to 100, sometimes 200 or 300 for sims with more prominent nostrils. i use this in combination with other nostril rotating/lifting sliders. simtanico has a lot of nose sliders to try out but i use this one the most.

simtanico - nostril lift slider. i use this slider with the one above to get more flared/lifted nostrils. the amount really depends on the nose/face.

oneeuromutt - nose tip y scale: this slider affects the side profile and the nose tip from the front, basically making the nose look more or less sharp/defined

oneeuromutt - nose tip width: self explanatory

oneeuromutt - nose tweak: an interesting slider that can flare the nostrils and nose shape outwards or inwards

oneeuromutt default replacement nose sliders - good to have

and there are more sliders i use here and there of course but i think those are the main ones.

[fierymiasma]

𐂴 Firewhiskey and Apple Tarts 𐂴 // Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Summary: Sebastian is tasked to take a drunk hero of Hogwarts back to her dorm after a wild party in the Slytherin Common Room.

Easier said than done.

Tags: Humor, Fluff, Pining, Drunk Shenanigans, Sebastian being a gentleman, Dorks in Love, Drinking, Drunk Piggy Back rides

Word Count: 3.4k

|| Masterlist || AO3 ||

The music from the self-playing ghost instruments was enchanted so loud Sebastian could barely hear his own thoughts.  The Slytherin common room floor was sticking to his shoes from all the spilled butterbeer and firewhiskey.  Sebastian wasn't a stranger to Slytherin House parties.  Staring across the common room, he couldn't take his eyes off of the hero of Hogwarts.  The moonlight reflecting off the Black Lake illuminated her, shining an ethereal spotlight on the only person who mattered at the party.  Jumping, laughing, and swiveling her hips in a poor imitation of a dance, she looked so carefree.  It was rare to see such an expression on the Hufflepuff, especially after the horrible events of their 5th year. 

Sebastian's expression softened.  It was a shame that the party was drawing to its end.  She brought a natural light to the dreary common room.  He wished he had a couple more hours to memorize every tiny detail of her form.  What he wouldn't give to break through the crowd and sweep her off her feet.  Show her how a real Slytherin parties.

"Sebastian!  Sebastian!"  Natty hollered as loudly as possible over the blaring music.  She waved Sebastian down, and Sebastian grinned back.  Now there was a friend who would always have his back in a fight.  "Are you able to escort our friend back home?"  Natty asked, knowing full well that Sebastian knew who she was referring to. "I would do it myself but the Gryffindor tower is the complete opposite end of the castle and-"

"And no one can sneak around at night like Sebastian Sallow."  Sebastian finished for her.  "Of course, I'll make sure she gets tucked into bed."

Natty hovered, a bit nervous.  "She's ah, how you say, not very sober right now."  She giggled before schooling her expression to a more serious one.  "Can I trust you to make sure she can make it back home safe?"

There was a pregnant pause.  The quickly developing relationship between Sebastian and his newly acquired friend had not gone unnoticed by the rest of the school.   It was obvious to anyone with eyes (or without good eyes Ominis would say) how much that Slytherin boy pined for her. 

In light of all this, Sebastian felt somewhat humbled that Natty trusted him enough to entrust him with the task of walking his very inebriated crush home without any foul play.  Though Sebastian might not have been as close with Natty as he was with Ominis, he still considered her a good friend.  And, the only good Gryffindor worth knowing. 

"You needn't worry.  She'll be unharmed, except for a pretty wicked hangover.  Trust me.  You Gryffindors aren't the only ones with chivalry around these parts." 

Natty laughed.  "Good!  Thank you for doing this for me.  I truly appreciate it."  Natty turned around and waved back to the crowd.  "I found Sebastian!  He's right here!"

Natty turned to Sebastian, hiccupping a bit before giggling madly. "Well, all I can say is, nkwagaliza emikisa, good luck!  She is quite the handful."

Before Sebastian could ask Natty what exactly she meant by that, a very loud presence announced herself. 

"Sebastian!"  The Hufflepuff in question shouted, throwing her hands in the air.  She pushed quite roughly through the crowd, heading straight for the Slytherin in question.  "Sebastian!  Good evening!"

"It is a good evening now that you're here."  Sebastian agreed, wondering exactly how drunk she was.  "I believe it is my duty to escort a certain someone to their bed."

She deflated like a Shrivelfig. "Oh…okay, see you later then."

It turns out she was very inebriated.  "It's you.  You're the someone I'm escorting to bed."

"Oh!"  She smiled using all her teeth, then quickly hide them behind her hands, giggling madly.  "Why didn't you just say so, silly?  This will be great!"  She shouted over the music.  "It'll just be like our very first night together!"

Several heads turned to look at the pair of them.  Sebastian could hear voices whispering behind them.  The back of his neck turned red.  "Yes, just like our first night where we broke into the restricted section to study and did nothing else slightly interesting or nefarious."  The crowd behind them look disappointed.  "We need to be just as quiet and sneaky as we were back then.  Are you up for the challenge?"

"Yes!"  she shouted and jumped on the balls of her feet, only to catch herself on a side table, off kilter with the room spinning.

"Shhhh."  Sebastian reminded gently putting a finger to his lips.  "Quietly."  he whispered.

"ohhh ok….quietly."  she whispered back.

Sebastian gently guided her to the entranceway to the Slytherin common room.  Waving goodbye to the party patrons, he helped her clumsily climb past the threshold.  Sebastian had escorted the Hufflepuff back to her dorms many times, curfew or otherwise, despite her insistence that it was really not needed.  He waved his wand around himself as he crouched, casting the disillusionment charm.

She attempted to repeat the movement.  She wildly waved her wand before crudely tapping the tip to her forehead.

Nothing happened.

She frowned, attempting to do the charm multiple times, to no success.

Sebastian sighed.  Well, this was going to turn out to be a lot harder than it usually was.  But, he was a man of his word, and he was looking for a new type of challenge.

"Alright, it's okay just follow my lead."  He crept to the corner of the corridor, trying to peak out to watch for any prefects prowling the hallways.

Before giving the all clear, something brushed up against his hand clumsy.  He jumped in alarm, disillusionment charm disappearing quickly.  He looked down.   Oh, she was holding his hand.

"My hands are cold and lonely."  She pouted.  "Can I hold yours?"

Sebastian couldn't hold back the smirk if he could try.  Oh, this was great blackmail fuel when his Hufflepuff returned to her very sober self.  "Of course, whatever you need."

In a stroke of luck, they managed to avoid the snitching prefects for a while.  Her warm hand never left his as they snuck around the dark shadows of the castle.  It was going rather well for a bit before the pair hit yet another roadblock.  Her hand was getting heavier in his, almost dragging him down with dead weight. 

"Is everything alright?"  Sebastian asked, finally taking a look back at the other girl.

She sighed.  Her hair was a mess, plastered over her face like a heavy curtain.  She seemed unbothered to fix it.  Her head bobbed down, as if the weight of holding it up was too much for her.  "Nooooo, it's not alright.  My feet are tired and this castle is wayyy to big."

Sebastian chuckled.  He let go of her hand, much to her displeasure.  Bending down, he gestured for her to climb onto his back.  It was going to be far easier to carry her.

"Alright.  Upsie Daisy."  Sebastian said, lifting her into a piggy back ride.  Her soft chest was pressed firmly against his broad back.  Sebastian flushed, glad she wasn't able to see his facial expression.  His arms wrapped under her strong thighs.  Her kicking feet dangled against his sides.

She laid her heavy head on his shoulder.  Sebastian could feel her hot breath tickle the back on his neck.  Now, much closer to her, he could smell the spicy firewhiskey on her breath mingling with her usual honeysuckle perfume.  The walls of Hogwarts spun a little.  Sebastian could get drunk on that intoxicating scent alone.

His throat felt dry.  This might have been a mistake.

"Thanks for the piggy back ride.  You're a much better ride than Boffle Loft."

Sebastian frowned.  He didn't know any Hogwarts boys with such ridiculous names.

"Who?"

"My broom."  She mumbled sleepily into his hot skin.  He could feel her lips lightly brush against his skin.

He shivered.  This was definitely a mistake.  He proceeded to walk.  Part of him wanted to get her to her dorm as soon as possible, not knowing how much of this his poor heart could handle.

Another part of him never wanted this night to end. 

Situated very comfortably on his back, the Hufflepuff was subdued for a while before her boredom got the better of her.  Her face was as close as it has ever been to Sebastian's hair.   She had always wanted to touch it ever since they first met.  How she yearned to run her fingers through those soft curls.  How she wanted to tug at those roots seeing what fun noises she could pull from him.  Listening to her most baser thoughts, she boldly patted Sebastian's hair.  Wow, it was a lot softer than she anticipated.  Sebastian didn't seem to mind.  She continued petting his hair, marveling at it.

Sebastian's neck burned hotly.  His steps faltered.  He hitched her higher up on his back for the umpteenth time.  Sebastian's sweaty hands shifted to get a more stable grip on her thighs.

"Everything alright back there?"  He tried to ask in his most, 'I'm not affected by this', voice he could muster.

She hummed happily, now tangling her hands through his curls.  "My little Puffskein."

Sebastian halted in his tracks.  "Puffskein?"

He could feel her sigh, as if disappointed Sebastian wasn't thinking on her level.  "You know, your hair?  It's so fluffy and cute and curly.  Like a Puffskein.  I always wanted to play with your hair.  I bet it feels exactly like my new Puffskein, all fluffy and sweet."

Oh this was truly too good.  She would be mortified when she woke up in the morning. 

Sebastian continued his journey, trying not to drop her every time her wandering hands tugged on his hair just right.  He stopped walking occasionally to position her more securely since she seemed to take on the bone structure of a kneazle.

"Well, I believe this is your stop."  Sebastian stated, silently mourning as he put the drunk girl down.

She frowned, looking up at the wooden barrel that hide the Hufflepuff common room entranceway.  "I don't want to go in."

Sebastian blinked.  "Don't you want to sleep?"

"Yes, I'm exhausted."

Sebastian patiently explained to her as if she were a five year old.  "This is your dorm.  This is where your bed is."

She pouted, trying and fumbling to cross her arms before determining that motor skill far too difficult.  "I don't like sleeping here."

Sebastian was about to pull his hair out.  Why could she had not said that before all of this. "Why?"

She looked at her shoes.  "There are three girls to a dorm.  And Lenora, Adelaide and the others are nice but I just can't sleep when they're around.  I know it's so silly and so stupid.  When they're in the same room with me, my head's just a buzz.  There's just so much going on.  Constantly wondering what they need, if I'm doing anything to upset them, if they like me, or if they just downright just don't tolerate me."  She shook her head.  "Plus what if the nightmares come back, and I start screaming again?  I don't want them to see that.  I can't have them see that-"  She was starting to breathe a little too shallow and fast for Sebastian's liking.  "Oh Merlin, what if they already know?  What if they heard one of my nightmares and think I'm a freak and just haven't said anything about it.  Hufflepuffs are so nice and polite they probably just haven't bothered to mention it-"

"Stop."  Sebastian interrupted, rubbing the Hufflepuff's back, trying to soothe her.  "Enough of that nonsense.  Breathe."  She took a shaky breath.  "Be a good girl for me and breathe."  She exhaled then took a much deeper breath this time trying to steady herself.  "Good, that's it.  There is nothing to be ashamed of."  No longer annoyed, he straightened her hair, tucking the tangled strands behind her ears so she could finally see him.  "Where do you usually sleep?"

"The room of requirement."  She mumbled, not looking at Sebastian. "Right next to my plants, and my potions, and my creatures.  That's where it's safe."

Something in Sebastian's heart gave a little.  He wasn't sure what he was feeling exactly, but he didn't dwell on it.  "Well, let's get you there alright?"  He searched for her hands, lacing their fingers together.  "C'mon, follow me." 

Somehow, despite the much greater distance, the journey from the Hufflepuff dorm to the 8th floor of the Astronomy tower was much quicker.  Mostly due to the Hufflepuff's subdued behavior.

Opening the Room of Requirements door, he was just glad to see that Deek had already gone to bed.  He didn't want anyone but her to see how badly he was falling for her.

There was a dragon's hoard worth of pillows piled up on her four poster bed.  Merlin's beard, it nearly touched the top of the canopy.  Clumsily, she collapsed on the bed, attempting to undo the intricate laces of her high-heeled boots.  Without thinking, Sebastian knelt down on one knee in front of her.  He gently reaching for her shoe to untie it, just as he had so many times for Anne.  Placing her boot on his thigh, his rough hands started undoing the laces.

For the first time the whole night, her body stood at an absolute standstill.  She was quiet, patiently waiting for him to help her get to bed. 

Sebastian's hands were firm and so sure as he helped take off her tight uncomfortable shoes.  She didn't know why but she quite liked the sight of Sebastian on his knees in front of her.  Once her shoes were neatly put together at the bottom of her bed, Sebastian stood back up.  She quietly mourned the loss of his closeness.

He summoned the blanket that had been rudely thrown on the floor.  He covered her gently with it, making sure she was sufficiently comfortable.  Satisfied at a job well done, he turned, looking to find some random furniture of the Room of Requirement to pass out on.

A small hand grabbed the back of his jacket.

"You're not going to join me?" she asked.  Her voice soft and innocent.

Oh Merlin, the founders were really testing him tonight.  His vow to Natty rang in the back of his mind.  Despite every fiber of his being screaming yes, he turned around, gently removing her hippogriff-like talons on him.  "No, I'm afraid not.  There's a very nice couch that has Sebastian Sallow written all over it."

She frowned before mumbling to herself.  "I thought I got rid of that one."  She threw herself back onto her pillows, incredibly distraught.

Pulling up the covers so they met her chin, he took one last look at her.  Sebastian's eyes soften, as he moved to brush the hair away from her eyes.

"You're not going to kiss me goodnight?"  She asked sweetly.

This had to be punishment for all of Sebastian's wicked deeds.  He swallowed thickly.  Her usual well-groomed braided hair was a completely mess sticking to all the pillows.  Her make up had already left probably permanent stains on her pillows.  She looked like she took a wrestling match with a giant and somehow won.

She was gorgeous. 

"No, I'm afraid I'm pushing it enough as it is."

She looked completely devastated at the rejection.  "Is it 'cause you don't like me?"

Well, Sebastian couldn't have the love of his life thinking something as absurd as that.  Bending at the waist, Sebastian leaned over to give a light and very quick peck on her forehead.  Just like his mother used to do when Sebastian was little.

She erupted into giggles as she retreated under the confines of her blankets.  The heavy quilt did nothing to muffle her maniacal laughter.  As if she were a niffler who stole a noble's best earrings.

Fuck.  That one was probably too far.

Sebastian climbed onto a comfortable couch that the Room of Requirements managed to summon for him.  He curled around a pillow that smelled of her perfume, hugging it close to his chest.  In the furthest depths of his mind, he wondered if the hero of Hogwarts liked it when someone took care of her.  Goodness knows, the Hufflepuff was always doing favors and moving the very heavens for strangers.   Someone ought to be looking out for her as well.  As he drifted off to sleep, his tired and slightly tipsy mind, clung on to one last thought.

Sebastian Sallow wouldn't mind taking care of her for the rest of his life.

[Keep Reading Here]

[eclipse-rain]

Fwel Tsaheylu (Broken Bond) Part 2

Warnings; slight angst

Part 1 •Part 3 •Part 4

Masterlist~

What was ment to be an experience for the benifit and furthering of mine and my brothers education ended up turning into a complete disaster.

Not only did all three of us disobey father by being present on the battlefield (Albet, in my case, it was more of an uncontrollable circumstance, but i wouldnt dare say so out loud) instead of observing from the sky, mentally noting down tactics used and getting a feel for the real action of battle from afar. But we also blew just about any chance of being able to get such first hand experience like that for a long time. No more battlefields for us, i was sure of it.

I was also sure of one other thing. That father would bring all of this up as soon as we landed. It was another unavoidable circumstance of sorts. And while i also knew it would not be the worst for me but rather for the eldest of us three, i could not help feeling anxious on the back of my mothers ikran as we flew home.

I would give anything so that father would not question me when we got back. I would even let Neteyam take all the responsibility this time, just so father would not be given reason to indulge me, as i would not be the main target of his focus. Even when i used to step in so Neteyam would not have to shoulder these burdens alone, no matter how much father hated when i did.

But this time, this time was diffrent. This time i had something to lose. A secret that could be let out. With just a little prodding in the right place the dam could break. The wall could crumble and i didnt know how well i could patch it up if it did. If i would be able to keep living while hiding the truth or if it would be ripped out from under me and i didnt know if i could handle when it did.

If they find out that i couldnt fly my ikran they will think somethings wrong. The questioning will begin, the concerned expressions will start up again. The poking and the prodding for more information will double. The never being left alone or feeling like you never have the chance to properly rest or think will bear down with all its might and the burden on my own heart will increase. Nevermind them doing it out of concern as parents for their beloved daughter, I've lived this way for long enough that any thought of changing it makes me feel physically sick.

Others might call me ridiculous or overdramatic for feeling as much but its different when your the one in the position. When the spotlight is bearing down on you and you alone. When the light shines so brightly into your eyes it seers, like its trying to melt the icy cold wall of your exterior and uncover all the dirt beneath. Every speck, every morsel and not clean away an inch. Only leaving it there to gather dust and have you continue the journey alone. If at that stage you still can.

As we arrived back home, flying overhead, i heard excited shouts from the other na'vi people awaiting the war partys return. None of us had spoken a word as we flew home, collectively knowing the sh*t storm that awaited us the moment we got back. The ikrans came to a hault on the ground and mother slipped off first. She held her arms out to me to help me down.

I swung my legs over and hopped off her ikran by myself in one swift motion. I felt sort of embarrased. I felt like a child needing to be helped off their steed by their parents because they were too inexperienced to get down themselves. Yes she was well aware i could get down on my own, since i had my own ikran, and was probably just trying to baby me because i was hurt. She probably thought i had gotten a fright after what had just happened, and she would be right of course, i had been terrified, but i would not show it. I was hurt but i would not show that either.

My adrenalin had started to wear off on the flight back and my survival mode started to shut down. Now i could feel the seering pain where the uneven gashes in my palms bled, turning my hands an awful red color in the process. I felt the sting of the bruises that had started to form and show through my skin on my back from my fall. On my shoulder blades, my spineal chord and my tail bone especially.

But i would power through the pain, the hurt, so that i wouldnt look weak, so that i wouldnt look like a child who needed to be helped everytime one little thing went wrong. So that i looked strong, i looked like i could be relied upon in times of crisis. So that i looked like the brave warriors of my clan, one of the people, one of the true people, not who i was and not who i really am.

In the meantime, the youngest of the family ran up to our mother, arms out streached in welcome. My brothers and father had gottten off their own ikran and started to gather together just a little ways away. Neteyam had ridden back with our father much the same as i had done with our mother only he was sat in front by father, where as i had sat myself behind mother. From what i saw out of the cornor of my eye he was also heped off the ikran by my father like my mother had tried to do for me.

In that moment a sudden thought occured to me for the first time. I wondered if i was what Neteyam was for father but to mother. Neteyam, the first born son, taught by my father. I, the first born girl and the only one in the family who was taught by my mother. I had always assumed that her teaching me had something to do with being the first born girl but i never put two and two together until now.

And that made me see a whole new outlook on my place in the family, which in turn made a pit of unease settle in my stomach. Neteyam was the first born, the perfect son the perfect heir. I thought i lived as the middle child between the middle children. Someone not to be taken notice of. I was not the eldest nor the youngest, i was not even second rate to. I thought i was invisable to eyes looking for expectation higher than just to be a normal na'vi, one of the people.

But i was wrong. My family, my people, expected of me. They expected me to be like them, to be one of them and i tired myself just to live up to the expectation of what was considered normal. If i now had to bring myself beyond that point, i feared it would break me. It would be my breaking point.

Nevertheless, if i found my realisation came to be true i would try and try and try again. Because thats all you can do until you can try no more.

Mother started towards them, steering me in the same direction. It felt like she was almost hurding me towards my imminent doom. Tuk followed silently trailing along behind the both of us. As we got closer i clenched my hands, my long sharp nails digging into the fresh wounds that formed there not too long ago. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from over thinking the situation but also to avert my attention away from the pain in my body, in my hands and the fresh bruises i could feel blooming along my spinal chord.

"Fall in" father said in a voice that sounded like any second it would raise an octive higher in something akin to anger. Not that i would be able to find the right word to completely describe how it felt like nails scraping down a chalkboard and just when you think its coming to a stop it keeps going.

When the three of us, Neteyam, Lo'ak and I finally gathered close enough, in one fast move father whirled around to meet us face to face. And we all knew what was coming next.

"You're suposed to be spotters" he said sounding somewhat impatient through the other emotions he portrayed at that moment. "You spot boogies and call them in"

I tried not to cringe as my fathers voice finally broke through the lid that was bearly containing it.

"From a distance!" His voice came out gruff and annoyed

"Does that sound familiar? Jesus! I let you two geniuses fly a mission and you disobeyed direct orders" he continued

I brought my head up slightly in confusion as to why i had suddenly been left out of the equation.

"Kiri can you go help your grandmother with the wounded. Please."

Kiri who came over in the middle of fathers lecture to us was regarded with a much softer tone of voice.

"My brother is wounded" she replied calmly and definitively

More urging from father for kiri who was not budging and now Tuk as well to leave brought fathers attention to me, the eldest of the three sisters.

A quick glance in my direction was all it took for him to walk over until he was standing right in front of me.

"What's this?" He asked in a flat voice, not too soft but not too loud

Confused, i followed the length of his arm with my eyes down to where his hand was pointed towards.

Small drops of dark red liquid fell to the ground just by my feet. I tried once again, like i had learned to do as i grew up, to tame the urge my body had to shuffle my feet under the intese pressure i now felt with fathers attention solely on me. His eyes bore down onto my hand stained with blood. They then shifted to my other blood stained hand and he seemed to have made up his mind before i got the chance to respond to his question.

"Kiri if you want to treat your hurt family than i think your older sister would be needing it more than your brothers would" he said turning back to face her

"Ah, its nothing, im fine-" i started but got cut off

"You always say your fine" he said dismissing the idea of my protest "Go have kiri treat you, we'll talk later"

Kiri, now also seeing my injuries for the first time, ran over and grabbed my hands to get a closer look. I flinched involuntarily at the spike of pain that shot through my hand at her action.

"Dad's right" She said now on even more of a mission than before "You need to get treated so these dont become infected! Lets go"

Tuk skipped up to us and grabbed my wrist on my other side to aid in pulling me away from the other members of our family and towards the tent our grandmother was in. Mother who stayed behind with father, Neteyam and Lo'ak gave an approving nod at me as we left them. I could vaguely make out more of what was said as voices were once again raised behind me, before i decided on blocking them out completely.

...

"Jesus Kiri cant you be a little more gentle"

"Oh so this hurts but when you were digging your nails into your palms, which already had fresh wounds on them, might i add, it didnt?" She said sarcastically. "Because i honestly doubt it hurts more than that"

I bit my tongue, feeling like i had sort of just shot myself in my own foot at her comparison.

"What's this i hear, big sis cant take the pain from a little healing herb." Spider who appeared out of seemingly nowhere like a stray cat said jokingly.

'Ah, Spider' i thought

He who had as many problems as i in this family. If you could even call him a part of it. Of course, i did, we all did, all except one. And that one person made it very hard for me to fully accept spider as part of the family, because how could i completely let my guard down when i know my mother does not feel the same, how she does not think of him as one of hers. How she looks at him, its not like how she looks at us, at her children.

I think i was the first of my siblings to realise this as it was around the time my eyes had been opened, opened because of my own problem that i could not ignore. My eyes that had been recently opened saw past the things that a person that age should not have been able to quite yet. Like my glossed over eyes filled with childhood wonder started to see, truly see, for the first time. See past the world that my parents had created for my happiness, and past the saftey that they gave me. Its like in one swift motion i jumped out of that safety net, like a baby bird jumping out of its nest before its mother has taught it to fly.

And i saw how mother looked at him, at Spider. I saw how she looked at him and only saw one thing when she did. Human. Demon.

To her he was one of them and always would be and i truly did not know if that would ever change. If even my father could not change her mind when he accepted Spider as one of his own, i feared no one could. Even when father was living proof that not all humans were demons.

I think thats how it grew. The uneasiness inside of me. In the back of my mind, hidden in the shadows fuling it to get bigger and bigger. When my eyes had been stripped clean and i finally saw through the hollow words that were 'i will always love you, no matter what' and i saw something that could smudge it. A stain, that could make even mother turn away from me.

Especially when that thing is a part of you.

As a child when you first find that out, at an age not yet able to comprehend and figure out the right path in such a situation, you could very well end up taking the wrong one. When you hide it away and therefore have no guidance on the matter, you end up taking matters into your own hands.

Hide it away so it can never be found, so your fears can never be realised. Put up a wall so they cant see through and find it hiding on the otherside, like a dog in a cage, eager to be let out, like a dam about to break, that could burst open with enough cracks.

"You zoned out again." Spider seemed to need to point out

"Its called thinking. You should try it sometime" i countered 'Wow that was such a cringy comback' i thought

But Kiri laughed as she finished up aplying the healing remedy to my wounds and proceeded to bandaged them tightly with thick woven leaves. Grandmother watched her through the process from the cornor of her eye as she worked grinding herbs for more remedies just a little ways away from where we were sat in the tent.

She was no doubt checking to make sure Kiri was doing her work as a healer properly and efficiently. We all knew how seriously grandmother takes her job as a healer and as a mentor for other young healers, just starting out who she can pass all her tips and tricks onto. To them she could pass on her special recipies that she has built up from years of being a healer, give them advice and ensure that the next generation of the clans healers would be well prepared for any future events.

Spider made a face at me, acting like he was offended and hit me lightly on the shoulder with his fist. Yes, he was my brother all right. I was sure of it. I just wasn't as sure as to if i could show it outright in front of mother. Especially with the added presure of my earlier realisation. If wheather or not mother had higher expectations of me than to just fit into the na'vi peoples version of normal, which i tried so hard to be, to the point of exhaustion, but deep down knew i was not.

I was not like the other na'vi people, i was not like my mother or my siblings, some of whom had the features of humans from father but never acted in a way that was not like the people. I was not even like father who was once a human and was even born and raised on Earth, the humans planet. Even if he was, he was now Toruk Macto, a true na'vi, perhaps even the truest given his title. I dont have their trueness, their strong connection to eywa that makes them part of the people.

I had never spent more time than i had to around Spider when i was a child. For what i thought were the right reasons, for my sake, so that i would not become more human than na'vi, so i could lock that part of myself in the deepest cornor of my heart.

As a very young child, before my eyes lost their gleem, before they were opened to the truness of the world around me, i had been just like Lo'ak. Perhaps a little more refined, unlike him i never fought with Kiri and i never tried to rival Neteyam as he did either. But i was high in energy and would often be found troublesome and in bad situations as i ran everywhere my brothers went and did as they did. Lo'ak and i were almost never separate from each other, almost joined at the hip at that time. Willingly or not.

The only time we were not to be found making all kinds of trouble together was when Kiri and i would go off on our own or when we were being taught to hunt, me by our mother and lo'ak by father. I would mess and run and play with them all, Spider included. Although as twins we definitely had our fair share of scruffs, i was alot closer to Lo'ak, to them, than i am now. Thats not to say we are not close now because thats not true.

But i guess thats just how growing up works, we tend to become independant, from our parents and even each other. Thats also the diffrence between me and them though, the people, all the people are one, through eywa. They are one big family, one safe space, where even the toughest are open with each other with eywa as their guide. This shows how human i really am, how i can hardly connect to eywa, so i cant connect to the people, i cant share my emotions with them, my burdens.

As i grew older, I would sit aside when my siblings would play with spider. I stopped going to star gaze with Kiri, i shut out anything that could possibly have the opposite effect of what i wanted.

Lo'ak and Kiri grew closer, to the point that sometimes i wondered if those two were twins instead of Lo'ak and i. Lo'ak remained troublesome while i became stonefaced and unreadable. That ended up boiling down to 'girls mature faster than boys' in my parents minds. Kiri even shared the human traits that lo'ak had gotten from father which i never inherited. Like having four fingers instead of three and having eyebrows when normal na'vi people dont.

Lo'ak and i never talked about our feelings together when we were kids. We just werent the type to do so, but i think we sort of just knew, a twin thing. Its like how i knew that his apperance and the rumors he said didnt bother him actually did. Though i was never sure if he felt this as well. Nevertheless he was still my brother, we were still twins. We shared the same blood, the same DNA, the same soul, even if we did not share all the same human features.

Kiri and i talked about everything together when we were younger but she was my younger sister, like Tuk, i couldnt put the weight of my feelings my problems onto her shoulders.

The one i would always go to when i was younger was Neteyam, mabey this was why father always came down so hard on him about the responsibility of us. To me Neteyam always felt like the one i could rely on, the eldest, who would have the answers to all my problems. He made me feel like i could rely on him which in turn ment as i grew he made me feel the weakest out of all my siblings.

Mabey thats why i pushed him away from me. That was probably it. I had no reason to push him away otherwise. There was nothing human about him that i tried to run away from. Actually he reminded me of my mother the most. Caring, loving, determined but change the circumstances and they could be ferocious.

Soon after i was all bandaged up we were joined by a grim looking Neteyam and Lo'ak. They strode into the tent and were sat down, or more like almost tackled to the ground, by Kiri immediately after arriving so she could check their wounds.

Father and mother came around as the sky was begining to darken, seemingly to have finished any other responsibilities they had after getting back. I noticed them out of the corner of my eye just a little ways away having a conversation that was just out of ear shot. I thought back to how angry father was about what happened. How angry he was at Lo'ak and Neteyam especially but how even so he had Neteyam ride in front of him on the way back home on his ikran. Almost like he was trying to shield him with his own body against anything else that might want to harm his son. He helped him down from said ikran, perhaps subconciously but nevertheless an action i didnt miss seeing out of the corner of my eye and just like how mother tried to do for me.

(Change of Pov : Jakes Pov)

"What is it?" I asked.

"Neteyam and Lo'ak try to live up to you. It is very hard on them" Neytiri replied.

"You are very hard on them" she turned from where she was looking through the opening of the tent and walked slowly towards me.

"I am their father. Its my job." I stated, reloading my gun as i sat on the ground.

"This is not a squad. It is a family." She said definitively, crouching down to where i was sitting to look me in the eye in hopes to gets her point across more.

"I thought we lost him" I said earnestly in a whisper. Able to show my most vulnerable side and inner most thoughts and doubts with the person i shared my life with.

That earned me a sympathetic look from my mate. She placed her hand on mine in a effort of comfort and knowing.

I had promised myself a long time ago that i would never again let anything happen to this family, to our family. Neytiri's and mine. Since the destruction and collapse of home tree and the war with the humans. Since i mated with Neytiri for life and since i first found out she was pregnant.

I had never felt those words be in danger as much as i did today. My promise had never come so close to falling short, to falling through my grasp on them and it would have been my fault if they did. It was my decision to bring them with us today and it would have been my fault if they got badly injured or worse in the process. And for that i never would be able to forgive myself.

I felt a pair of eyes lingering on me from behind and i turned around slightly to make out who those eyes belonged to. I turned only to catch a glimpse of my eldest daughter as she turned her head away from our direction and towards her siblings. I saw Mo'at applying a healing remedy to Neteyams wounds as he flinched away from her hand and grumbled some annoyances in the process. He took Y/n's bandaged hands in his and proceeded to look over them as if he could see if she was badly injured or not through the bandages.

Lo'ak seemed to think the same thing as me and proceeded in pointing it out to Neteyam, laughing in the process. Neteyam who i was sure hated the feeling of his younger brother, who made a point to rival him, making a fare point, turned towards Kiri and looked like he started to ask a series of questions. I assumed he was probably now trying to learn how hurt Y/n was from Kiri who had a knowledgeable perspective as a healer and was the one who treated Y/n instead of trying to magically be able to see through the bandages that encased Y/n's hands.

Neytiri followed my gaze and i saw a familiar look pass over her face as she looked at our children, a motherly one, one of love. Spider had learned to make himself scarce most of the time Neytiri was around. He seemed to have gone off on his own, walking through the camp.

"You should talk to her" Neytiri said softly, my attention was turned back to my mate.

It took me a moment to realise what she ment as my mind had been on Spider rather than what, or rather who, i had been looking for when i glanced over. It had been Y/n who had been watching me from behind.

"She doesnt like to talk" i replyed

"To you? Or just in general?" Neytiri said with an innocent smile

I frowned slightly at her. She knew as well as i did that Y/n was not the same girl she had been when she was a child. Yes, thats how it worked, i know it did. I myself was definitely not the same as i had been when i was a child. Nevertheless it was hard to know what she was thinking now. When she was younger she was just like how Lo'ak had been and how he still is now. They were both troublesome and she ran after him as he did Neteyam. You could even say that Lo'ak was almost what Neyeyam was for him but for Y/n. They both were so ambitious and energetic.

Although as Y/n grew she stopped following them around. She stopped going out late at eclipse with Kiri too, which at first i was pleased about to be honest, since so many times i had to drag them both back home and wrangle them into our hammock to sleep. Now though i wasnt so sure it was a good thing.

She doesnt communicate with Neytiri or i as much as she used to anymore either. I guess mabey at the start i just thought it was her growing up. It started from a young age but it was always said that girls matured faster than boys. Neytiri comfirmed this and i couldnt tell myself, (as even though i had been put in a diffrent body than my original, i had yet to be in the body of a teenage girl or have their mindset), so i had no reason to push any further on a matter i didnt know much about. It was slight at first, hardly noticeable but by the time she became a teenager it felt like we had somewhat drifted apart.

She may not communicate as much to myself and Neytiri anymore but at least from where i stood it seemed, in the way she acted, that nothing much had changed with her siblings. That they hadnt drifted apart from her as we did, theyre dynamic had stayed the same as they grew up. They could still depend and rely on each other as siblings, even if they still bickered and fought along the way. Of course, that was only what i saw from my perspective. I had no way of knowing if what i saw was the truth. It was just like the way Y/n's said 'im fine' , i could never really tell if it was the truth or not anymore even though it was so easy when she was a child to see what she was thinking, what she was feeling.

I know Neytiri also thought about this. I had told her about how i missed how close we were when she was younger. We would always venture out into the forest together.

The memory came rushing back to me and I remembered it vividly. We would walk hand in hand, when she was a child, her little hand wrapped around my pinky finger. Something she did since she was a baby, something that made me glad i had that extra finger. The first thing she did when i first layed eyes on her after she was born was latch onto my pinky finger and not let go like if she did she wouldnt be safe. That moment changed my life, my first babygirl, and i was gonna make sure id protect her. Id protect all of them.

I gathered myself and my thoughts and decided that it was time to make do on the words i said earlier.

"I said i would talk to her after she went with kiri to get her wounds treated and im going to now" i said, noticing Mo'at had finished with Neteyams treatment and had left the tent.

I felt Neytiri's gaze on me as i stood up and made my way over to our children. Coming into earshot of them they seemed to have relaxed since earlier, now messing around with each other as usual. I was glad that they didnt seem to be too badly affected by what happened on the outing earlier. I didnt want to ruin their time together by butting in but i had said i would talk to Y/n and i couldnt put it off any longer for fear i might actually end up changing my mind.

Its weird, you can have fought in many battles and even wars but still be more anxious to talk to your teenage daughter, when youre a parent. Even if you try to give them the safest and happiest childhood possible there are things that you cant always see. Things that are hidden on the outside and concealed within. Because no parent is perfect, you can never get things right all the time, its just not possible, no matter how hard you try. You can only try your best. Thats all you can do and thats all you should expect from them in return.

"Kiri go over and help your grandmother treat the rest of the wounded, take your brothers with you, they can make themselves useful" i urged so i could have some needed alone time with my eldest daughter.

☆☆☆

Please write in the comments if you want a part 3 because i need to stay motivated and its so hard, im so tired 🥲

Although, its my birthday this weekend so part 3 will probably be out next weekend-ish or later, i hope you guys understand.

Also please be patient with me. I am still very new to this. I havent even been on the tumblr app for more than like a month or two, and this is only my second post. I even had too look up how to tag people💀. Any tips would help, thanks.

Submissions are now also open, i think, (if I've done it right), so i would love to take a look at any requests or ideas you might have or want me to do. Bye lovelies. 🤗

@bongwaterflavoredgatorade @octopi-on-drugs @bobojojoba69 @pearlrosegardener @thicc101q @lovelyygirl8 @abbersreads

[beau-is-here]

Hazbin hotel makes the parallel between Charlie and Emily very clear. Hovever, this parallel goes beyond the princesses of heaven and hell when we look at their parental figures.

Through the examination of Sera and Lucifer's parenting and prideful decisions, one can see how not only the two farthest entities from each other - literally good vs evil - can be alike, but also how they can dictate the future of Hazbin Hotel.

I feel like it's already been established that Charlie and Emily are so similar. Their personalities, outlooks on the extermination, CHAREXTER DESIGN? "you didn't know" with their duet just ties it all together. But Lucifer and Sera? It might take a bit of explaining on my end…

Lucifer's relationship with his daughter, Charlie, has always been pretty strained. After Lilith repeatedly separated the two, Lucifer became depressed about not seeing Charlie, though he never acted on it.

At the beginning of episode 5, Lucifer has very adamant feelings about sinners; they suck. Because he had been cursed to only see the evil he had brought onto man kind (which i will dive deeper into later), all he sees is a worthless pile of rubbish, and he tries to warn Charlie about this. In a way, he is overprotective of Charlie, wanting to keep her safe from being heartbroken about the hotel if it goes wrong.

Much like Lucifer, Sera is separated from Emily, the other seraphim. Emily was devised that Sera had chosen to allow the exterminations, which led to distrust and betrayal between the two.

Sera also tries to sway the mind of Emily. Sera holds a hatred, or a prejudice, towards sinners, and forbids Emily from helping Charlie with anything to do with rehabilitation, going as far as to continually justify her own actions by saying that she had to do she could "keep heaven safe". She is overprotective as well, and projects her fears of Emily falling onto the younger Seraphim, much like how Lucifer projected his fear of heartbreak onto Charlie.

But wait, there's more. As we all know, Lucifer's prideful decision was giving Eve the apple of knowledge in hopes of satisfying his creativity. However, he ends up spreading evil into earth and ultimately getting "locked out of heaven" (just dance fans laugh please). Not only is he punished by being kicked out of paradise, but he also is cursed to the shame in only seeing the bad parts of humanity that HE had created. This is why he loses faith, despite having the opportunity to be its leader. Side note: this is what makes episode 8 so much stronger - Lucifer ends up defending the sinners of hell, showing his change in perspective over the course of the season.

Even though she is supposed to be virtuous and righteous, Sera also makes a prideful decision. This is her agreement to allow the extermination. She does this because her pride is threatened by the uprise of hells power due to Lilith's influence. Because she feels threatened, Sera's first thought is to allow a genocide to happen under her control. However, unlike Lucifer, she has no predetermined consequence. Instead, she suffers the guilt of knowing she has allowed this heinous act. This is why she so desperately hides it from heaven's population, because she is ashamed of her decision.

In conclusion, Lucifer and Sera are two sides of the same coin. While one resides in hell, the other "flourishes" in heaven. However, while Sera stifles the spirit and ambition of Emily, Lucifer changes his view on sinners through Charlie, and thus allows her to continue chasing her dream of the hazbin hotel. Or, in this case, to "shine in the spotlight". If Sera and Lucifer are such parallels, then I predict Sera to eventually make the same choice as Lucifer, and allow Emily to support Charlie in her mission of helping sinners get into heaven. Cause what Sera really needs is to have a change of heart.

[multidimensionalguidance]

SR Chart in-depth Analysis Part 2 🔒

Here’s the continuation and final part of my SR chart analysis and predictions, which has been very fun because its the few moments where I can see myself from a different perspective, and just focus on the information I can decode without any room for judgment.

Taurus 8th house: my sense of security will depend a lot on how much I can rely on indulging in delicacies within my own hidden safe space. Finances are merged or shared within close relationships. Partners resources become my own. Inflexible or hard-headed when it comes to the type of comfort or luxury I expect to enjoy. A big focus in other people’s resources becoming my own somehow. The ruler of this house sits in the 12H, which means that the money I receive or try to keep hidden will be used towards spirituality, foreign settlement, expenditure, bed pleasures, self care, health, work clothes, skincare, and extravagant procedures to enhance my natural beauty, which could be to an almost detrimental or excessive level since Venus is debilitated.

Gemini 9th house: communications in general will be towards philosophy, higher knowledge, luck, feeling blessed, traveling, foreigners, teachers, spiritual guides, etc. It is also likely I will be speaking a foreign language quite often. Lots of short distance traveling to foreigners places. These conversations and type of mindset will influence my finances, bet it due to new perspectives or simply luck allowing me monetize those newly acquired learnings and skills. That would particularly be due to 9H ruler sitting in the 2nd house. I’ve read before that Mercury in the 2nd denotes above average intelligence, so perhaps that will also influence on how I’ll be able to increase my resources.

Cancer 10th house: this year people will perceive me as very nurturing, mother-like, soft, intuitive, and like wife material (particularly bc that asteroid Bried is conj the MC). It is likely that I will be receiving lots of attention because that’s what luminaries do, they put a spotlight, which is career/public image for me. My work environment could be spent in a space that IS or feels like home. There could be discomfort from having matters that are private exposed to the public, so I might have to deal with some of that as well. The ruler of this house sits in the 5H, so I might be doing creative work online, related to children, with romantic partner, in a fun way.

Leo 11th house: my social circle will be full of creatives (artists, leaders, performers, teachers, government workers etc), royal-like people or individuals with a certain amount of influence. My goals, social media image, and gains/income will be focused towards notoriety, fame, child-like joy, romance, appearance, etc. On top of that, the ruler of the house sits in the 2H, so those gains/goals/social media image will also influenced my resources and finances.

Virgo 12th house: with Venus sitting there and it being the debilitation, I’m led to thinking that the possible negative significations of this placement will be experienced in isolation, during my daily night routine or in foreign places. The difficulty with Venus in Virgo is how overly critical and judgy it is towards itself and others. There is a difficulty with fully enjoying the experience of love and beauty because you’re too busy thinking of how things can be better or improved. Now, on the other hand, no one does acts of service and has a deeper awareness of health and beauty than this sign. They give and give happily to those they commit to or love in general. I will probably be enjoying a bit of those sides during this year.

Thank you for reading this far! I’m excited to check this during December and doing a sort of checklist of what I predicted accurately + everything else that will definitely happen without my awareness.

[lifeonmarz-blog]

Jupiter through the houses Pt. 2

Jupiter in the 7th- Slow Downnnn. Ya might be extreme in your behavior and very hardheaded. These people love bragging and that attracts alot of people that want to take from them but even if they not bragging the way they carry themselves makes people jealous. You could have no more than the next person but for some reason people think you do. They can have alot of secret enemies. Hella self centered lol. Very territorial, kinda reminds me of a taurus stubborn forsure but will defend their loved ones to the death. Only they can bully the people they love, dont let you try it. They may also feel like they have a point to prove or have to put in extra work to be treated the same.

Jupiter in the 8th- They want a big family and want to do it differently then how they were raised. They hold grudges really bad and need to learn how to forgive people and move on. These type of people can be completely different from their parents. Learning from their mistakes and choosing to do better for their own kids. This definitely isn't a easy one but the patience and perseverance that is learned here is truly admirable.

Jupiter in the 9th- These people know how to blend in where they need to. When it comes to making difficult decisions they procrastinate real bad. Their more cerebral and not as conscious to how their actions effect other people. Practicing being more in your body and not in your head so much would really do them well. They ignore their own feelings alot. Super prone to burnout its like they punish themselves with stress.

Jupiter in the 10th- Public figures vibes foresureee. i bet you wanna be famous. Yall love the spotlight and survive off adoration. You hate feeling misunderstood and will clarify something in a heartbeat. Money hungry forsure and might have a hard time being grateful because you feel such a responsibility on your shoulders like you never have enough. You either put people in position to receive more materially or someone has put you in position to receive more but its probably both. Be cautious not to use people for what they can offer you. A lot of times you feel like you receive no real benefit from the hard work you do.

Jupiter in the 11th- With this placement its like people want you to prove yourself all the time. They wanna see you work hard before they'll help you but once people feel like you've ''proved'' yourself you waste no time and have your foot in every door. You gotta learn how to chill out and not be so defensive you dont have to be so impulsive and defend everything you say or feel. At times you can feel like you have no control over your life and and everything bad happens to you.

Jupiter in the 12th- You may have felt like you had overbearing or very demanding parents. Like a part of childhood was taken away from you. You give yourself unrealistic expectations then beat yourself up if you dont accomplish them. Things could be going downhill for a while before something extreme has to happen for you to acknowledge it. Im not gonna lie this placement is a lil sad because of how critical you are of yourself. You dont have to deal with everything on your own. Talk to people, reach out when you need help.

-luv of marz

[newcaptainofsquad9]

The Lady’s Man~Becky Lynch x fem! reader

Pairing: Becky Lynch x reader

Genre: Romance, fluff

  Summary: After spending close time with Becky during your time as tag team duos, she starts to dress differently, something not only the fans pick up on but you along with Becky’s competition for the Smackdown Women’s championship too.

Writer’s Note: First and foremost, I’m sorry about not updating a certain fic yet (The Astrid, Crazy Rich Asians one. I’m still working on it!) or just writing a lot on here in general. Depression has its hooks sunk deep and work has been draining me more than usual but here I am. One of the things that has helped me lots is wrestling, haven’t watched it since I was a young teen and wow, it’s like interacting with an old friend again. One thing that I’ve also noticed is how much the women on the roster are hot and why I liked them so much. The gay awakening was real. Anyway, hope you enjoy my first wrestling fic!

Word Count: 1, 978

You were classy. If you were to partake in feuds or clap-backs, you kept it high-brow and let your skills in the ring do most of the talking. That was part of your character: Lady Y/N, here to bring back beauty and class to the WWE, an exhausting effort to get through with your in ring abilities instead of full on trash talking. That being said, you did have your moments where you popped off on the mic, especially when Damage Ctrl was involved. 

You came face to face with Bayley, Dakota Kai and Iyo Sky tonight; the people of the crowd roaring and chanting, “My Lady” once your music hit and you came strutting toward the ring.

“Aw, here she comes!” Bayley yelled. She pointed off around the crowd and continued to mouth off“Shut up! We’re the top ladies here you heathens.”

“Bayley, all this crying isn’t gonna get you anywhere,” you said. You entered the ring, smiling at the audience, waved and aimed a few kisses at the people, swooning them in the process. “Didn’t Becky and I beat Iyo and Dakota last week and didn’t you lose your championship to Charlotte at the Rumble last week?”

Bayley nodded eagerly, smile plastered on her face. 

“Yeah! Lady yeah! I did y/n! But who’s been a champion at all? Me! Not you! Some lady you are!” Bayley exclaimed while laughing and nodding to her Damage Ctrl sidekicks. “Maybe, if you’re nice to us tonight, I can bring you in the spotlight on my Ding Dong Hello show next week. Well, just you and not your man.”

You cocked up an eyebrow at the mention of “your man”, right when the WWE universe all “oooooed” all at once. It was some sort of joke you weren’t in on, yet you caught yourself with a sly grin and went back in on Bayley. 

“My man? You making up delusions now, huh, Ms. Role-model?” you said. 

Bayley scoffed then let out a snort while turning to Dakota and Iyo. The crowd seemed to react as well, chanting “The Man” over and over. 

Oh. Becky, that was who Bayley was referring to. She called herself the man, didn’t mean she was your “man.” Right? And Bayley is totally wrong, the WWE Universe did have their bright moments but they didn’t dictate who did or didn’t belong to you. Especially Becky Lynch. She was your friend and tag team partner. Period. Nothing more, nothing less. 

“Please, you might be able to fool these idiots!” Bayley yelled. She gestured to the audience before continuing. “But you can’t fool me and the heart eyes she gives you! Have you even seen her new merch?”

Now you knew Bayley made up insults and material on the fly but you really had no idea what she was talking about. Before you could wrap your head around it or throw your own comment back at her, Becky’s music hit, sending the arena along with Damage Ctrl into a frenzy.

“Aww, now look who you’ve spawned!” Bayley groaned. “How dare you idiots speak of The Man!”

The combination of the loud music, the crowd and Bayley’s irritating yells swirled into a cacophony of noise that left you frozen while you watched your fiery headed partner (tag of course) rush out, all smiles and cockiness under her black shades. It’s like what Bayley alluded too, her outfit and merch was different: instead of wearing her flashy, “Bex” shirt underneath her leather jacket, Becky sported a new shirt with blocky letters reading “The Lady’s Man.” 

Your heart skipped a bit at the display; being around Becky was already complex, she just made it twenty times harder. She trotted down to you on your frozen spot in front of the ring, eyes obscured by her shades until she lifted them. 

“You called?” Becky asked. She aimed her words at Bayley and the entire WWE Universe, but it felt as if she was just talking to you. 

Becky stepped closer toward you, rearranged your hair a little before placing the shades on your head. 

“This Ok?” she asked. “Don’t want to mess up your hair, but I just couldn’t resist.” 

Her Irish accent always had an effect on you but how low it was when she whispered, with her gesture of the shades left you flabbergasted longer.

“Hey! Flirt on your own time!” Bayley said. She pointed at Becky, who chuckled. “This is between me and your Lady!”

“Woah, woah, woah! You know Y/N and I are a team, like you and your Ctrl clique,” Becky explained. She brought an arm around your shoulder, patting the spot in an attempt to bring you back from your stump. “The Man always defends her lady. Dare I say, she’s got a better chance at Charlotte for the Smackdown women’s championship than you!” 

Becky’s words got your chest to flare; you nodded along however, smiling a bit too big as words of your own bubbled up from your throat. 

“The Man’s got a valid point though, what do you say, Role-model?” you said. 

Bayley guffawed. 

“Sure! Yeah right, like she would--” Bayley said. She was cut off by the crowd chanting your name over and over, angering her yet again. “Shut up! You idiots don’t know anything! Y/N can’t even compete with Dakota or Iyo, let alone me!”

Becky cocked her head back, as if her fellow horsewoman’s words struck her face on. She turned toward you, mouthing a “can you believe this?” You just rolled your eyes and shook your head. 

“Bayley, keep spouting this nonsense and maybe I’ll have to kick your ass again,” Becky said. She brought you closer, close enough to hook her arm around your waist. “Or! We could take care of Kai and Iyo and they can defend those tag titles for once! Jeez! Those things have been collecting dust!” 

You found yourself smiling more as the heat built up your chest. Becky and you only teamed up due to being a great match against Fire and Desire, along with other amazing women in the division but to suggest you both challenge Damage Ctrl? It was a commitment to what you two could do together, although, it wasn’t as grand as Becky proclaiming herself “your man”, was it the direction Triple H wanted or was it something more?

“No way!” Bayley growled. “I mean, they’re the greatest bunch of the womens division they don’t need to prove a thing!”

Iyo Sky and Dakota nodded, a little too swiftly with conflicting emotions pouring through; you picked up on them immediately.

“You sure Bayley? They seem scared. Let’s ask them, folks! Iyo? Dakota?  Are you afraid to take on Becks and I? Maybe to even put the titles on the line too?”

The WWE Universe erupted in another fit of chants: you made it out to be them calling Damage Ctrl cowards over and over again. Becky chuckled and pulled you close while Iyo and Dakota went over what was going on with Bayley off mic. It looked as if Iyo and Dakota were trying to talk their leader out of it, you felt quite terrible for them and how the crowd began to drown them out with the noise.

“All right! Quiet you idiots!” Bayley shouted. She gestured for the WWE universe to calm down more, leaving mummers among the crowd and stands. “They’ll accept the challenge, next week!”

You didn’t expect them to accept so quick, believing them to think it over throughout the week or maybe go back and forth with Becky on Twitter(usually ending up with you mediating). 

“Yes!” Becky cheered. “We got this, lass.”

You could only nod, lost in the feeling of opportunity: white noise of the crowd and a tingling feeling that warped down your chest toward your belly. A title shot for the first time in your career, with Becky. Becky freaking Lynch. 

The thought kept up its constant ringing in your head, even after you escaped the effervescent noise the WWE universe were known to cause. You managed to reach your personal locker room before a hand grabbed your wrist--the action forced you to tense up, thinking it was Bayley or Damage Ctrl. 

“Whoa, lass, you all right?” Becky said. Concern clean on her face. “Is it OK if we talk?”

You nodded. Becky shut the door behind you, then proceeded to pace the space, back and forth like a blur of orange flame that flicked from one end of a candle to the next. 

“It wasn’t your idea, was it?” you said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. 

Becky froze, attention immediately on you. 

“What?”

You let out a humorless laugh and motioned to her new T-shirt. 

“The Lady’s Man? It was just a new way of introducing our tag team? Making it official, yeah? Or is it a new storyline that I’m not caught up with yet?” you asked. You pressed your fingers together and fidgeting them while continuing. “I-I just want to understand what all that was.”

“Lass--”

“Rebecca, please be honest with me,” you said. The emotion in your voice was sharp and firm.

Becky rushed over to you, taking your face in your hands. 

“Breathe, y/n, I’ll explain, let me just sit you down, OK?” she said. 

She led you to the folded chair you had set up by your cubby, helping you sit prior to her kneeling in front of you. 

“It was my idea, and yeah Triple H and the people wanted to market it, thought it’d be a great thing to lead up to something amazing to do with the Tag titles,” Becky explained. She took your hand as she spoke, rubbing the knuckles and the underside of a few veins. “But under all of the bravado and what The Man means to me, there’s some truth to it. I really want to try and be your lady too. I-I like you, Y/N, I really do.”

The way Becky looked up at you almost made the emotions break from you, tears flooded your eyes, some spilling over to your dismay. 

“Y/N, no, hun, don’t cry I--”

You cut Becky off with a kiss, meeting her halfway as your arms wrapped around her neck. Becky returned the kiss instantly, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you flush against her. A mini makeout session just about occurred. You pulled back (a little self conscious that you both were still in the arena aka work) but Becky lifted your chin up tenderly, planting a short yet passionate kiss to your lips once again. 

“I love that desire, lass,” Becky whispered. “Does this mean we’re to be more than tag team champions in the future?”

You nodded. “That and we’ll have a lot more moments outside of Wrestlemania.” 

[thisisarcanereverie]

Cutting Ties (Dark! Moon Knight x Reader) Part 2

A/N: This is Part 2 of a 3 Part fic. (Here is Part 1!) This is also a dark fic so please DNI Minors and others. (I got a little carried away with this idea Anon so thank you for the suggestion)

Now if you can interact or want to, please do! Like, reblog, reply!

DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS: kidnapping, angst (like a ridiculous amount of it), light cursing, I've never been to London or England in general so I'm going based off of what I've seen, English is my first language I just suck at it. I do not own the picture above but i DO own the header below, it's something that I made. I might make a few others idk. Enjoy!

Summary: You're a former Widow on the run, only in London for a year you meet Steven Grant, a goofy gift shoppist. But is there more that meets the eye?

For as long as you could remember you were not your own. Your name, your face, your mind, your body, even your own autonomy was not your own. It had always belonged to Dreykov and to his Red Room. Then, suddenly, the very color that controlled you, freed you. The red powder burned your eyes for a moment before suddenly it felt like you could breathe again. 

It was strange how one’s life can completely turn on its head in a matter of moments. 

One moment you were another Widow, easily expendable and replaced and the next you were…new. At least that’s what it felt like, you no longer existed at the whim of another. You weren’t a chess piece on the board, you were now a player. 

You remembered the day the Red Room fell as the best day of your life. 

There were so many things you could do, there were so many possibilities. 

You just weren’t prepared for the reality of it. 

That despite the mind control and the lack of autonomy, you still hurt people, at the end of the day it was your finger that pulled the trigger. You would wake in the middle of the night still haunted by those faces with a red mark between their eyes. It felt like you couldn’t escape from the Red Room you concocted in your mind, that no matter how hard you tried you will always be a Widow. So instead of fighting it, you gave in. 

You had offers, from SHIELD to Tony Stark himself. Which surprised you, but in the end you decided you didn’t want the spotlight on you and were a merc for a while. It was gritty, but it was work you knew well. You thought you could do it but the first time you were ordered to kill you couldn’t. They were innocent, they were just there at the wrong time. So you killed your boss instead, grabbed what you could, and left. You made enemies that day, one that would love to see your head gifted to them on a silver plate. 

You called Natasha after that, you weren’t sure what else to do. You didn’t know anyone else, you were completely alone. She gave you this guy's number, said that he would help you disappear and with whatever else you may need. You could feel her wink on the other end of the phone as you wrote down his information. 

Since then you’ve been running, changing addresses and identities every couple of years to stay ahead of people who may want you dead. Her friend would give you new identities and you would exchange with money that you earned at jobs you would work. For a while you were content with being alone, working everyday and coming back to your place to eat food you previously were never able to eat and watching tv. Then you met Steven Grant, Marc Spector, and Jake Lockley. Then suddenly you realized how gray your life had become, how long you had merely survived and what living actually meant—even if you were merely living a lie. All at once you were no longer alone, someone held you at night and kissed your blood-soaked hands. 

For the first time in your life…you felt clean. 

But that had all been a delusion. 

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

You woke up in pain, your head throbbed and your limbs felt weighted down, as though someone had thrown two weighted blankets on top of you. You willed your eyes to open and was greeted with an unfamiliar ceiling. You squinted your eyes as you looked toward the open window, watched as the powder blue curtains danced gently as the breeze blew in. You weren’t sure how long you’ve been asleep, last time you remember it was nighttime and….

Rain

Pinching

Jake.

You took a sharp breath in and shot up from the bed as your hand went to the side of your neck, Jake had drugged you–and from the look of things–abducted you as well. Why would he do this? Did he act alone or did Steven and Marc help him? All these questions swarmed your mind but one question stood out. 

Have you been blind?

You shakily made your way to the open window, sure enough it was morning, and sure enough you weren’t in London. As far as you could tell you could be miles away from the nearest village let alone London. How long had they been planning this? To already have a second place squared away, ready, were you the first to be here or the latest addition. 

“You’re up.” 

You swerved your head as you looked beside you, your skin crawled and blood turned into ice as you looked at him. Upright posture, hair a little less unkempt, and a twinge of a chicago accent dripped in his voice. 

Marc. 

You opened your mouth to speak only for a small, pathetic squeak to sound instead of words. Your hand reached for your throat and realized for the first time how absolutely parched you were. Like you hadn’t had any water in days. 

“Here,” he handed you a glass of water which you greedily accepted, you didn’t bother breathing as you chugged the glass he gave. After the soreness in your throat subsided a little and hummed to warm up vocal cords that had not been used in a while. You put the glass on the window sill  and looked  at him and at the tray he was previously holding. Turkey Bacon and Eggs, it was Marc's favorite breakfast, one he had made you dozens of times whenever he was sorry for something. 

You were silent as you looked at him further, he wore sweatpants and a t- shirt, both clearly slept in. The tan of his skin glowed in the morning light and it looked like he ran his fingers through his dark curls once or twice. There was something unsettling about him though, one that made the hair on the back of your neck stand, something that wasn’t there before. 

Those eyes. 

You flinch a little as he raises a hand, only for him to retract it. 

“Sorry,” he apologized, his voice uncharacteristically small. You debated on what to say, what was there to say? You had so many questions and yet you could not speak. You weren’t even sure if you were just dreaming, it almost seems like a dream. A house far away from everything and everyone, and your boys were right there with you bringing you breakfast in bed. You were partially worried that you would wake up and find yourself sleeping in a plane seat millions of miles away from them, but the other part of you worried that you would never wake up. 

“How long?” you finally spoke, voice still hoarse. A moment of silence fell before he answered. 

“I can’t tell you.” Marc says lowering his eyes, something he does when he has something to hide. 

“Did Steven or Jake tell you that,” You fidgeted with the sleeve of your shirt.

“Neither.” 

“You have to let me go,” You finally said, voice getting a little less hoarse the more you speak. “Please.” 

“Stop,” He said looking at you finally with a hard look in his eyes, “Stop saying you have to leave. You don’t need to leave.”  

“Yes I do,” you emphasized, you held his face in order to hold his gaze, “there are a lot of things you don’t know about me, things that I’ve lied about. That person you fell in love with isn’t me, I’ve done horrible things-” 

“I know-” 

“No you don’t.” 

“Yes,” he said, grabbing your wrist with an intense look in his eyes, “I do.” 

It was like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on you and stuck a fork in an outlet all at the same time. There was no way he could know, at least, not everything. 

“I know that you used to be a Black Widow,” he said, taking a step towards you, the grip on your wrist tightening, “you’ve killed, lied, and stole from many people including me.” his nose brushed with yours as you tried to steady your breathing. 

“How could you know all that?” You asked, whispered, your mind was pounding in time with your heart as he leaned closer to your ear. 

“I also know you used to be a mercenary,” you heard him whisper in your ear, his breath ghosting over the goosebumps that formed on your skin, “that’s how we met.” you stopped breathing as he leaned slightly away from you, far enough for you to look him in the eyes. Dark eyes that held the sun in them. 

Oh

Oh. 

The last job you went on you worked with a team, you never saw his face and he was never much of a talker. You just remember his eyes as he held a gun to you ready to shoot…only to lower the gun and let you get away. 

That had been Marc. 

Without a second thought you ripped your wrist from his grip and grabbed the glass laying on the nightstand throwing it at him. Your heart pounded as you made your way through the open door, sure to close and block it before he had time to reach it. You were sure by now you were on the verge of a heart attack with how loudly your heart was pounding. You could hear Marc on the other side banging the door with his fists. You had no plan, your heart was breaking all over again and your entire body has gone into a fight and flight zone. You made your way down the wooden stairs skipping every other step, unafraid of the small fall you have on the last step before you regained balance and ran straight through the front door. Even from outside you can still hear him banging and screaming, you tried to decide where the best place to run to when the banging stopped. It wasn’t in Marc's nature to give up so you look behind you, he wasn’t coming down the stairs either. What the hell? 

Then you heard a familiar grunt and footsteps above you. 

The open window. 

All at once it didn’t matter where you ran to as long as you ran. Your feet carried you swiftly into the tree lining of the woods surrounding the house. The adrenaline coursing through your veins hid the pain of the cuts and barbs that scratched you as you pushed them aside. Your goal was to run, or to find a pointy enough stick or a sharp enough stone to throw at him, but mainly run and hide. 

You weren’t sure how long you ran, all you knew was that your lungs were on fire and you couldn’t feel your limbs. You knew you couldn’t run much further, at least, not at full speed. So you went to the nearest, sturdy tree you could find and climbed, you grabbed one branch after another. The bark dug into sensitive parts of your hand but you didn’t care, you could see your arms shaking as they pulled you up to that final branch. It seemed strong enough to hold your weight and shielded enough to provide cover. 

One of the things the Red Room taught you was to assess weakness and who had the advantage. Marc had the advantage when it came to muscle mass, but you had experience–granted those were mainly espionage missions that required more brains than combat prowess. You always carried a gun on you,  but if he was smart (which you know he is) he took that away and was carrying it with him now.  

All this time, you thought he loved you and that you were protecting him. You never even suspected the truth, he seemed so familiar and you had that gut instinct that something was up but you ignored it. All this time everything had been a lie, he didn’t love you, he was finishing the job. How long did he have his eye on you before he made a move? 

Stop! You didn’t have time to mourn, you had to focus on surviving. 

You halted your greedy intakes of air as you heard rustling in the leaves. Careful not to make the slightest sound as you saw him run past, calling your name. You waited until you slowly couldn’t hear the crackling of the leaves before beginning your descent. Time was of the essence, at some point Marc will come back to retrace steps, so you had to make another break in a different direction he had gone. Maybe back to the house and hotwire the beat up jeep you saw in the driveway. Once there you would make it to the second nearest village because the nearest would be the first place he’ll look, use one of those grimy old payphones to call in your ID guy. 

Your feet had barely touched the ground before you felt the wind being knocked out of you as you tackled the ground. You were pinned before you could push Marc off of you, unable to do much but struggle in his grip. 

“Do it,” you growled while still fighting, “I’m not going to stop fighting but if you’re going to do it, do it now.” 

“Do what now?!” His eyes wide and intense, his grip becoming tighter on your wrists again. 

“Kill me!” You yell, “that’s what all this has been for, hasn’t it? I killed your boss and stole a lot of money and relics from the people who hired us. A lot of different people want me dead, a lot of powerful people who can make things happen want me dead for more than this. Once you kill me you’ll have your pick of the litter. Whatever you want.” You see his brows furrow as you feel his breath ghost over your lips. 

“Have you ever thought that maybe what I wanted was you?” He pecked your lips once before continuing, “that I intended to keep you for myself rather than sell you to the highest bidder.” 

“Why would you do that?” 

“Cause I love you,” Marc said, pinning your hands above your head with one hand while the other caressed your cheek, “I have since we met on those desolate dunes, that has never been a lie.” you can feel his heartbeat as he lays his weight down on top of you, like so many times before, as his words swirl around your head. Your first thought was that he was lying, how could he not be? Deep down, however, as you looked him in the eyes you were reminded that Marc was many things–but a good liar was not one of them. 

“You can love me,” you say, “and still betray me.” you hear him let out a frustrated groan as he drops his head to your shoulder. You can feel his grip tighten before he lets your wrist go, and his weight on you is gone leaving you strangely cold. For a moment you think he’s letting you go, a foolish thought, one full of hope. 

You were wrong. 

No sooner had you gotten off the ground yourself, your feet were dangling above the ground as you were swung over his shoulder like you weighed nothing more than a sack of potatoes. Had this been ANY different situation your knees would be weak for a different reason. 

Once again you fought, kicking and screaming. He wasn’t going to kill you, not yet, but you were honest when you said you weren’t going down without a fight. You didn’t even register entering the house until he sat you on the couch with an unceremonious plop, his hands gripping your shoulders and a frustrated look in his eye. 

“What is it going to take to get you to believe me?” He said, voice low edging on a growl. 

“Give me one good reason to believe that you wouldn’t give me up.” You said, eyes narrowing, “a reason that I would believe.'' There was a beat of silence, you see his brows furrowed together as his brain itches for an answer that you know he wouldn’t have. He has betrayed you and has all the reasons in the world to sacrifice you to the altar. 

Then the lights starting flickering, 

The hairs on your neck stood on end as you felt a shift in the air, the lights flickering and a hum of something else. Something you’ve never encountered before. Then you see the bandages wrapping themselves around Marc like snakes and his eyes were no longer the dark color you used to adore. They glowed now like moonlight reflecting off of water. 

Of course. 

You’ve seen the small articles in the paper passing by or clickbait news in the media about London’s vigilante who called themselves Moon Knight. You usually never paid much attention to it, you rarely were out past dark anyway why would you? Maybe you should’ve. 

“If I wanted anything that they have,” You hear him say as the mask unbound itself to reveal his face, “I would’ve just taken it, and they couldn’t have stopped me.” 

“You’re moon knight.” Of course the first person you fall in love with is not only a mercenary, but also a superpowered vigilante. Your life hasn’t been ordinary, why would your love life be?! You groaned in frustration as you leaned your head back against the couch, “well that explains why you always look exhausted and always came back home at weird hours.” 

“You knew about that?” He asked, you gave him a deadpan look, “...of course you did.” You look at him for a moment and replayed every moment in your head leading up to this, he had a point. With these powers he really could have walked into any place, taken what he wanted, and left. He wouldn’t have needed you, but why keep you?

“Ok,” you start, “so you don’t intend to sell me or kill me or whatever.”

“I’ve been telling yo-” 

“But why keep me?” You ask, “Why bring me here? Based on this house and location it is-”

“Everything you ever wanted.” Marc finished, his grip softening on your shoulders, “a small house with a sunroom, far away from everyone, a place to plant flowers and a lot more sun than what you got in the city…A home.” 

“This would’ve taken at least half a year to build,” you say, “and another few weeks to a month to draft up the plans. So that means that you have been planning on bringing me here since-” 

“Since fate decided to give us a second chance,” he said, “I couldn’t follow you before and lost you, trust me I tried to follow you but you were so damn good at running and hiding that I couldn’t find you. Then, one day, I see you on the bus. I was a fly on the wall, Steven was in charge, but I saw you. You have no idea how badly I wanted to talk to you, but seeing how you fled before, I knew I had to be patient. I told Steven everyday to talk to you, building him up until he eventually sat next to you.” You see him laugh a little, “I really shouldn’t have kept him up the night before, but it all turned out alright.” 

He was sick, you knew this from the beginning, you just never looked below the surface of it. He needed help, something you couldn’t give him here. 

“Baby,” You said softly, holding his hands as he knelt down in front of you, kissing the tops of his still bandaged covered hands, before leaning your forehead against his, you had to be calm. You had to convince him with honey and not vinegar. “Thank you so much for doing this, it must have been so much work.” You start, lowering your voice to barely a whisper, already sensing the tension leaving his body, “you must be so tired.” 

“I am.” 

“I’m just worried for you,” you said brushing your nose against his, “maybe we should see someone hmm? Like a specialist or a doctor, get you some melatonin or some medicine to help you sleep.” You feel him shake his head before you gently shush him, bringing a hand to cup his stubbly cheek, “just to help you sleep.” 

“I don’t need them.” He says definitely, “I have you.”

“And you’ll always have me.” You promise, “let’s just call and make the appointment, I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to help.” 

“No,” he mumbles quietly at first, “no” a little louder, “I don’t-” 

“Do it for me?” You ask, fluttering your eyelashes and giving him a small smile, “please baby.” gently moving your hand to scratch the nape of his neck you knew he was putty. 

“Ok,” he agrees.��

“Ok,” you quietly repeat, trying to keep your tone even, “how about we call them right now and make an appointment?” 

“No.” 

“Ok,” you say, rubbing soothing circles on the back of his neck, “we don’t need to call them right now but in a short bit here, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

You breathe in, “yeah.”

[mrspark7777777]

Atp I'm genuinely wondering whether I should just drop BTS and Jikook and just focus on JM, the only one who gives his everything for his work, not even an ounce jealous of anyone and is ready to give his own spotlight to his loved ones. While The negativity I feel from certain members towards him is so high. With JK too, he wasn't able to stay a bit more or visit Jimin during FACE era but got time to travel half world to see Tae. Ik jikookers like JK thus not calling out his bs and only dragging Tae for his double face. Jimin might love both of them so much so he might not be expressing this distaste but Jimin doesn't deserve this bro. When he'll find someone who'll genuinely be there for him whenever he needs him ? Atp the only one who has genuinely supported his all ventures is Jhope. They are the real soulmates of the group not the one assigned by Fandom.

I am so confused by your ask, anon. Is there a different JK other than the one I know? Which BTS do you mean? Because the one I know has member JK who has always put Jimin first. Always protected and defended him even when he didn't need it. Always been there for him.

Did you just miss this part?

Music is almost everything to Jimin the perfectionist and JK has always been there to help him. Be it a listening ear, or vocal lessons. Its literally INSANE to me when people like u come to me to denounce JK for something V did. JK who btw, has always corrected any misinformation thats been laid down by V. JK who purposely doesn't feed the vermin if he can help it.

So anon, what are you on about? Seriously. Here is a post I made ages ago about how well JK shows up.

And God knows i didn't even scratch the surface.

JK wasn't able to stay a bit more or visit Jimin during FACE

Bro, the editing on that Bangtan Bomb is so shady we don't know how long JK stayed. As for not visiting Jimin's promotions a) they were short as hell. we even saw how shocked JK was to find that out during that Jimin live where he asked to come visit and Jimin informed him he was done. So you've conveniently forgotten that JK was asking to go see Jimin. b) Jimin went to live with Pdogg during the production of FACE. We have talked about this alot already but he did so to avoid distractions and I bet you his boyfriend would have been the biggest distraction of them all. So don't be blaming JK for a decision Jimin made. c) last but not least please stop conveniently forgetting just how much JK promoted and supported FACE. Something he never did for any other member.

U wanna stop supporting BTS and JK, you do you. But don't sit there and say JK doesn't care about Jimin or has never supported him because you would be lying.

[ghostreviewer]

The Sun and the Star by Rick Riordan and Mark Oshiro

4.5/5⭐️

CW: spoilers

I literally got out of school the day this book came out and went to the store to buy it. That’s how excited for this book I was. I was like, no, this has got to be the hard cover and I need it now. So that’s the backstory of how excited I was for this now let’s get into the review.

In all, it was a good book. I really liked the story line of Nico and Will going to go save Bob and them growing as people along the way. So you know what, for plot, I really liked it. There were a few things though that I wasn’t that big of a fan of. The first being it didn’t feel like I fit the target audience, now I now all of the Percy Jackson books are YA or middle grade, they’re targeted to that younger audience but this book felt like more of the older fanbase was interested in it. Which is good and well, but because it is still in the lower YA age range is felt off. There were so many things that could’ve happened, the main thing I really wanted was more of Nico’s trauma of his first time in Tartarus brought up. Mainly because so much of the fanbase forgets that he was the first to go into Tartarus, alone mind you, and now he’s back again. And it was just, there were so many times I felt like Rick/Oshiro could’ve added something, maybe having Nico’s internal monologue speeding up, showing he’s freaking the hell out because it’s just just his life on the line, Wills’ is too. How if Will is off somewhere Nico is freaking out because he’s about to go back to his worst nightmare. The first time he was in Tartarus it was a suicide mission but it was only him down there, now a suicide mission with his boyfriend? I feel like he should have been freaking out more.

I did like how Nico and Will worked through their relationship a bit and grew, but Will never really had the spotlight. It was more of the Nico show with Will on the sidelines. A lot of people tend to just see Will as Nico’s boyfriend, and honestly I was hoping that this book would give Will his chance to shine and ya know, be fucking badass. And I know he wasn’t doing to hot because he’s a son of Apollo and they’re in the deepest part of hell, but I wish he had more times being shows as competent and cool and his own person.

We had a lot of Will freaking out and needing to lean on Nico for support, which makes sense and all, but I do still wish there was a spot where Nico just broke and had to lean on Will for support. Show how he had done his best to compartmentalize his first time is Tartarus to the best of his abilities but now being back he just can’t and he needs to lean on Will but is reluctant because Will is going through his own struggles.

I will say though, I did like the fight with Nyx and it wasn’t about them defeating her, but getting Bob back. The Cocoa Puffs being a manifestation of Nico’s struggles are cool, but it feels weird for some reason. Like, oh yeah here’s all of your trauma as little anamorphic animal things and you’re going to take them with you. It’s a little strange. And again, getting on that boat and then leaving would have been just a great time for Nico to just break because holy hell he’s just survived he’s worst nightmare a second time.

Now, I have this rated high because I did like it. It had a few proofreading mistakes and I wish some things were written for a more mature audience but I recognize that this is a younger YA series that isn’t trying to traumatize its readers. For a long time fan of the books that is on the older end I might not recommend this book (although if you really like Nico and Will go for it anyway because it is so much fun to see them have their own thing). For a younger reader though I would definitely recommend reading this book, it’s not super hard to read (none of the Percy books are) and it explores characters that in the past were more side characters.

[rin-bellatrix]

Oasis

"When everything's meant to be broken, I just want you to know who I am." - Goo Goo Dolls

August finds himself in the middle of the Pandoran desert, left to clean up his business' loose ends. Though, he's not as alone as he once thought, coming face to (pretty) face with the grifter who stole his heart. It seems that Sasha has some of her own loose ends to clean up as well.

I love Sasha and August ok

I'm firmly in the belief that August needs to reclaim his full redemption arc (he started towards the end of Tales and well, we just never got to see the end result 🤷🏽‍♀️)

So here's my first "saugust" piece! (Pls tell me if there's a better ship name for them out there 💀) I've written them as bg characters in my rhyiona fics, bc we love a big ol' happy family affair, but this is their first solo spotlight on my blog 😌💕

they need more recognition, they're kinda like Bonnie and Clyde, love my lil outlaw couple 💖 so stinkin' cute 🥰 (not to be confused with everyone's favorite villain couple, jackisha, who I've also written for 🤭)

Ahem, anyway~ this is part one, so this is unfinished. More to come from this particular story ✨️

Also. Am I posting this in the last hour of the month of August, instead of getting my shit together and posting it sooner...? Don't worry about it~ ☺️

Enjoy~ 🧡💜

It was always sunny on Pandora. Or at least, it seemed to be whenever August had to venture out of the dark shithole that was Hollow Point. The white sub-giant star that was Pandora's sun seemed to be on full blast today, the curve of the horizon a warbled, dancing edge in this heat. Sweat rolled down the side of his face and gathered at his jawline before spilling off in incessant drops. He shook his head to get the sweat out of his eyes before leaning into his truck bed and grabbing two fistfuls of rough canvas.

He tossed another burlap covered carcass onto the small pile of bodies, grunting with its weight. His Ma might be gone, but that just left the family business up to him. Which meant cleaning up the mess when a rival gang thought that they could prove themselves bigger and badder. Not a chance. But it was best to dump the bodies farther away from the entrance to Hollow Point to avoid scavengers somehow finding a way to spill into his town. That was the last thing he needed.

Dusting his hands off, he slammed the trunk door closed and ripped an old rag out of his back pocket. Mopping the perspiration from his neck and face (minding his piercings), he squinted up at the ball of fire in the sky and cursed its heat. What he wouldn't give for an ice cold drink right about now, he was fucking parched.

Stuffing the damp rag back into his pocket, he rounded his truck to head to the driver's side. His boots kicking up sand, his mind already focused on securing a cold shower as soon as he got back home. Gripping the handle, he pulled and yanked the door open, one foot on the step bar ready to hop in, before he looked up and froze.

"Thirsty?" Sasha chimed, sitting relaxed behind the wheel, dangling a cold bottle that was dripping with condensation.

The sight alone had him wondering if this was a mirage, if the heat had really gotten to him and made him hallucinate this as his own personal oasis. But then her scent of orange blossoms hit him, and he took a step back in shock. The sweet scent that sometimes haunted his dreams was a startling contrast to the freshly decomposing bodies that he just unloaded from the back of his truck.

How did she even get here without him knowing...?

She was as beautiful as ever, maybe even more so if that was possible. Her locks were pulled back in a sleek style, much like the last time he saw her during that whole vault debacle. Her outfit looked clean and classy, a stark contrast to his current state of sweaty and sandy. She wore reflective sunglasses that kept him from seeing her eyes, only his own warped image staring back at him.

When she arched a pretty brow, waiting for a response, August had to reel himself in. "What the fuck are you doin' in my truck?" No one could ever say that he didn't have a way with words.

"Is that the greeting I get? After I came all this way to bring you a nice refreshing drink, because I know you always leave to come here without one."

It shouldn't move him that she remembered his dump sight. It should mean nothing that she remembered he always forgot to pack a drink. It wasn't a big deal that she came to drop off a cold drink. She was a con artist, this is what she did. It's how she wormed her way into his heart the first time. He told himself this, and tried to ignore the way his heart beat a little faster at the implication that she still cared about him.

Did she ever really care about him...?

"What's it to you? If I forget to hydrate, how's it any of your business?" He glowered at her, old hurt resurfacing as if it were just yesterday.

She watched him from behind her sunglasses, quiet as she struggled to find a new lie to fixate on.

"Listen, I don't care, get the fuck out of my seat and go back to wherever you came from. You've got nothin' here, unless ya want me to put a bullet in your brain."

Sasha pursed her lips, her free hand settling firmly on the steering wheel. "I'm gonna drive you back." When he opened his mouth to argue, she continued. "I just want to talk." When he remained suspicious, she reached up to remove her sunglasses, meeting his eyes clearly. "Please?"

Her eyes were so clear, the light jade so beautiful with her complexion. His mind told him to watch his heart, not to fall for her tricks. But his heart told him to go along with what she wanted, simply because it was her who asked. August considered himself a strong man - an intelligent man - but in the face of the woman he loved, he crumbled far too easily.

He grunted as he slammed the door closed, rounding to the passenger side of his own damn truck. He hopped in, the cab rocking with his momentum, the door shutting behind him as he huffed.

Sasha held out the bottle again, and he watched as a drop of water raced down the side and gathered at the bottom before splattering across his leather seat. He looked up at her and met her eyes again, ignoring the excitement that wanted to bubble to the surface.

"Is it poisoned?"

The pretty grifter frowned, before twisting the cap off and taking a swig, once again holding it out to him. "That answer your question, smart ass?"

He hesitated before taking the bottle from her. Glancing down as she shifted the car into drive and pulled off, he noticed the faintest glossy shine of her lip gloss on the lip of the bottle. As the truck rumbled through the Pandoran desert, he recalled how slick her lips were when she would kiss him after applying it. They way she giggled when he pulled back and groused about the texture. How she would joke with him, arms looped around his neck, if she should withhold her kisses then. And he would snag her closer by her waist, pulling her into him and grumbling a complaint against her wet lips as he kissed her through her laughter.

He eyed the residue of it on his bottle now. Then, he lifted it to his lips and drank deeply, imagining that he could feel a phantom press of her lips against his own. It quenched him like nothing else.

☆

TBC

☆

☆ borderlands masterlist ⋆ main masterlist ☆

©rin-bellatrix 2024

[calumhoodgoss]

been listening to rebel at heart thinking about how it yes it’s 100% a ashton song but could be a calum song yk? and insomnia gives way to some lite psychoanalysis and I was thinking, calum has this lovely quietly unhinged, rebellious even, personality and it makes sense he tends to be drawn to people with kinda unhinged personalities too or at least those who are boldly themselves and that’s not quite the path of what they’re ‘supposed to’ be. but also how sad it is whenever a louder personality drowns him out because he’s truly got so much to give and he does give it but he is quiet too and it’s like, you’ve gotta not steal his spotlight. not think because he’s on the quiet side he’s got nothing to say or express because he absolutely does. it’s such a sweet combination but it must be so hard to fit the bill of someone who works there really well. all the band members do in their own ways I guess and I do think that’s a big part of what makes 5sos so successful—and especially if ashton did in any part write rebel at heart for him (I don’t know, it doesn’t really matter, but it absolutely describes calum and I can never unsee that). but in terms of a partner. I just hope whatever happens whether brandy does end up learning how to be that for him and they do end up being together in the future or he keeps looking, that he finds someone who’s just the right balance for him. I can see how that would be hard though for a lot of reasons but he absolutely does deserve that and I just hope we can talk about and appreciate this and really see him for who he is yk? idk if this is the style of ask you like but I just wanted to say hopefully nice things about calum

oooo i actually havent had a chance to listen to blood on the drums yet! but you bet your ass ill be running to do that after readimg this!

i just quickly read over the lyrics and i can totally see how you see cal in them. if he didnt help write them then i feel like he would at the very least relate to them for sure. i 100% agree with you on that one, hes definitely quiter but not less expressive.

and i agree! i hope either brandy can be that balance for him or i hope he can find someone who will be. i have my reservations about brandy (and for those reasons i dont think theyll work out) but at the end of the day whoever makes him happy is the best one for him. he just deserves someone who inspires him and also understands him and his timing and expression, whoever that might be!

its just exciting to see him be more interactive and present online again - whether thatd because of a breakup or because hes getting ready to do some kind of promo, whatever it is we LOVE to see him being himself again

ALSO

this blog is all just speculation and ive specifically chosen tumblr to express all my thoughts cause the chance of the boys or anyone they know ever actually coming across this are so so so low. im more here just to talk about all the things i think about with people who understand and are interested and dont have people in the real world to speculate with either 😊

- not that you implied anything i just thought this was fitting to add 😇

[dailydemonspotlight]

I know you've done Shiva in the past, so I was wondering if you could do Parvati as well? She's endlessly fascinating, and I think it would be awesome to see you cover her in a future post

Parvati - Day 35 (Request)

Race: Megami

Alignment: Light-Neutral

May 9th, 2024

Hinduism is one of the most sprawling religions out there- an interconnecting web of gods and tales, stories about figures whose worship still follows them today. It's an endlessly fascinating subject, one which is still the subject of scholarly debate and religion, but in this maze of subjects there lays a god or two that are beloved in spite of the fact they aren't one of the 'Big Three,' so to speak. One of these deities is our demon of the day, the Hindu goddess of love, marriage, and devotion, Parvati.

Boasting one of my favorite designs in the series as well as some fascinating folklore, Parvati is a figure important in name and stature- as goddess of love and beauty, she stands for all kinds of love, whether it be romantic, platonic, or familial- she's a figure representing the bonds that tie most humans together. Due to this, she's popular, to say the least, found extensively throughout ancient Indian folklore and literature. She also stands as a very important figure in the mythos, being both one of the wives of Shiva as well as birthing Ganesha and Skanda, two other very important figures.

However, how she came about is a story just as interesting as the sum of its parts, a story involving... another demon in the series! Hooray! I won't recant it here to let that other demon, Sati, get her own spotlight, but in effect, Parvati is the reincarnation of the goddess born as a human. Upon Sati immolating herself in prayer to be reborn as a goddess worthy of consorting with Shiva, she would be reborn as Parvati, the daughter of Himalayas, who immediately found herself overcome with the urge to seek out Shiva yet again. During a bit of (literal) soul searching, the gods realized that they needed yet more of Shiva's offspring to help battle the monsters who began invading the world- monsters like Pisacha, Preta, or Rakshasa began to run rampant, causing untold mayhem- and so, in order to stoke the flames of Shiva's suppressed desire, they ended up coming to the difficult decision to sacrifice the then-god of love, Kama, to inspire Shiva.

Now feeling a deep and unsanctioned lust, Shiva began to search out another partner of his own and, eventually, had reunited with Parvati, now a proper goddess in her own right instead of the half-human Sati. Due to the sacrifice of Kama, the gods decided to elect Parvati as the new patron of love and desire, as well as letting her and Shiva wed. Later down the line, the two, ahem, procreated, giving birth to 6 children at first... who were all fused together soon after, forming Kartikeya (hilariously referenced in SMT IV with the following line)

"So mother sent you here... I thought she might have. Still, I don't want to go back! Never! Why...? ...Because I'm scared. Yeah, that's right. I'm scared of my mother. Well, Mother's very kind, but... It's just that... She's just way too out there! Like she doesn't belong in this Universe! I used to be six kids! But Mother hugged us all together, and we got merged into one person. Who has that kind of power!? That's just not right! Look... Once, she accidentally cut off somebody's head, and then she just replaced it with an elephant's head. My entire family is messed up!"

Later on, they also gave birth to the elephant-headed Ganesha, as well as discovering their ability to effectively fusion-dance their way into a new form, that being the intersex Ardha. Lastly, and most interestingly, Parvati isn't just the goddess of all things sweet and sappy- no, she's fully capable of demon slaying too. One of her aspects is the fierce, demon battling goddess of table-turning, the fearless and passionate Durga, who also has an even more fearsome aspect of herself, the infamously deadly Kali, goddess of death and time's passage. Yes, this woman is technically the same as Kali. That Kali. I was shocked too.

There's so much more to dig into with Parvati, given the interlocking threads of Hinduism, but I'll have to call it off here so any later demon spotlights can have their time in the sun. Overall, I love Parvati. A lot. Her design is beautiful and fascinating and she has an incredibly interesting backstory- but how is she depicted in SMT? It's... complicated, but I love it regardless. The design in the megaten series is rather faithful, depicting her in a Hindu headdress and decorated with vibrant pinks and sandy gold, all the while holding a flower, a representation of the love that Parvati stands for. The flowers coming out of the headdress also play into this theme, as well as giving her a more recognizable silhouette outside of a humanoid form. I also, honestly, just find her design really pretty looking- the pinks, golds, and whites all come together to make a gorgeous collage of colors combined with a gentle, nurturing expression. Her outfit also just looks really neat. In Nocturne, she also evolves from Sati, a great reference to the stories surrounding the self-immolating woman.

In gameplay, while she's not the strongest in terms of attacks, she serves as a powerful healer in most games in the series, typically learning both healing skills, status inflicting skills, and buffing skills through level-up. She also can learn some very powerful magical attacks, though most of the time she should be specced more for support if anything. Overall, Parvati is a wonderfully depicted demon with fascinating folklore that is one of my favorites in the series, and absolutely deserves the demon spotlight.