#stop her she'd be too powerful

[othernaut]

Character Creation Challenge 2025, Day 5: Infinity The Role-Playing Game

Nothing is so painful to the human mind as a great and sudden change.

It came upon her like a shift in seasons, if such a thing could occur all in an afternoon. Awash in nothing-work, women's articles penned for pay on one of the rare, good afternoons when the thundering pain in her head had weakened and the stiffness and shivers fled from her fingers, she found herself a fey revelation: What if all this world around her was an illusion? At first the thought was an amusement, a tinkerer's toy rattled and rotated in the hands of an idle child, but like the alteration of the seasons, it asserted itself more fully until its splendor entire could not be denied.

The heaviness of the quilted wallpaper and stuffed sedan seemed to gain a papery quality, so thin as to barely bear the pressure of a single finger pressed to its surface. Moths fled the glimmer of the gaslamps and not even a trickle of dust remained to mark their passage. A lightness befell the world, an insubstantiality, as if all that was heavy and real around her became a ghost of itself, springtide cloth woven from intimation and memory.

Memory, that came to her, too. Percy Florence, that still-living warmth within her breast, and all the shades of bygone days that patterned the wall behind his vital figure: these seemed an architect's outline of emotion, a soap-bubble caught momentarily in a spray of starlight. These weighty emotions, that meant so much to Mary as to define her soul entire, lost all heft and heaviness second by second; they were the washed and bleached bones of themselves; a fact stated but unfelt; a museum exhibit to be remarked on by an idiot and then passed by in search of a biscuit and tea. Percy...

Was this how a celestial spirit might remark upon the world? She thought to herself, her pen paused mid-sentence, her suddenly unformed and unreal body splayed upon the sedan. Should a Creator look down upon his Creation, would he see it the same way? The outline of nations, the planning of days, the edifices great and small built, at a remove, out of dry twigs and onion-paper. Even her own self seemed assembled as an amusement. Her hands, one at her lap and one at her board: pocked with age and shriveled by illness and yet, all at once, as plump and youthful as they had ever been. As if no time had passed at all. As if no time could pass, at all.

Percy...

Mary rose suddenly from her seat with an ephemeral ease that had evaded her for decades. To her box-desk, which she had avoided writing at for months due to the stiffness of the chair disagreeing with her age-weakened frame. Her hands shook like wind-rattled trees in early spring, just remembering how to bud, as she picked at the lock on the drawer. Opening the thing was a Sisyphean labor, so heavy it was to drag the little brown partition closer, centimeter by centimeter.

But inside was all the weight of the world, at last. At last. His heart, Percy, uncremated, wrapped in its dearest production. Those little locks of lost childrens' hair, so small, like leaden things rattling around a world drained of matter and meaning. That little book, battered and timeworn, where life's early love scratched back-and-forth across the pages. A smile etched its way across the filmy suggestion of her face. It was all here, after all: all that ever mattered in the world. She reached forward the assumption of a hand to touch it.

The world unfolded like a kaleidoscope image.

Mary was standing, young and strong as she'd ever been, in a bright white room built of no material she had ever known. An alien thing in her head whispered a slow trickle of information, as if from the aether, into the heart of her. She knew, now, the veritable falseness of her memory and, paradoxically, the false verity of how that life and love and experience had felt as if she had experienced it in truth. It was built into her and she was built around it, her body a box to hold this guesswork personality, and from the aether some vast and companionable intelligence was welcoming her into itself, welcoming her to recognize herself, welcoming her home.

The box-desk in front of her (now salvaged, she knew, from an auction warehouse on a distant Earth mere weeks before it flooded) was still open, still there, still real. But there was no more heart inside of it as there was inside of her.

Instead, there was a gun.

*****

Mary Shelley (with a gun)

Agility 10, Awareness 12, Brawn 6, Coordination 10, Intelligence 12, Personality 12, Willpower 10. Custom Lhost: Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley Built For: O-12 (50 Asset debt) Infinity Refresh Rate: 2 Homeworld: Earth Social Class: Middle Home Environment: Happy Home Youth Event: Changed social class/Gained an extended family Education: White Collar Adolescent Event: You fell passionately in love with one of your father's political followers, lost your virginity on your mother's grave, and eloped to travel Europe. Career: Academic Career Events: Gained notoriety as a writer, futurist, and feminist; Was remembered in the wills of relatives.

Skills: Education (Signature, Expertise 3, Focus 2), Persuade (Signature, Expertise 2, Focus 1), Lifestyle (Expertise 1), Observation (Expertise 1), Stealth (Expertise 2), Command (Expertise 1), Medicine (Expertise 1), Science (Signature, Expertise 2), Discipline (Expertise 1), Tech (Expertise 1), Ballistics (Expertise 1), Psychology (Expertise 1) Talents: Fame (1 extra Momentum on a successful social tests, but all Stealth tests are one step harder); Charismatic (Reroll 1d20 on Persuade tests), Disciplined Student (if at least one success is rolled on an Education test, may roll an extra d20) Languages: English, German Character Traits: Ardent Passion Earnings: 3 Cashflow: 6 Assets: 11 Gear: Cube 2.0, Neural Comlog, Stims, Laboratory (3 month lease), Geist (The Heart), Armored Clothing, Assault Pistol, Bioscanner + Medical Supplies, Cosmetics Kit, Fake ID 3

Stress: Firewall: 12 Resolve: 11 Vigour: 6

Bonus Damage: Infowar: +3inf; Psywar: +3inf; Melee: None; Ranged: +3inf.

*****

Oh boy, is Infinity a lot of game.

I was briefly obsessed with the thing. I don't remember where I fell off (probably somewhere between the willingness to buy and paint tiny little Combined Army sniper aliens and a total unwillingness to actually fight other people with them), but Infinity as a world has experienced one of the biggest swings of fascination to disinterest I've experienced in a property. Much like my character for Burning Wheel, my character for the Infinity RPG was built as much to realize a concept as it was to analyze my own response to the property - to examine my initial interest as well as question why it didn't stick.

And oh boy, is Infinity a lot of game. It's a lot of everything - the world is intensely detailed and every interaction with it is fiddly and just unfamiliar enough with the rolling systems that I find it difficult to intuit at a glance just what the hell I should be doing. This is true of the wargame, too, this simultaneous depth and width of design that's so very easy to appreciate at a remove but so very difficult to engage with as a system. The fact that there's so much goodness inherent in it doesn't, at all, detract from just how much is there - curiosity is, as always, subordinate to time.

Infinity is like going to the Lindor factory and coming home with an entire shipping crate full of assorted chocolates, including all the weird ones and the one-offs they do as promotions or seasonal things. It's all good, and it's good in a lot of variety, but that's still an untenable fuckload of chocolate, and you can't eat chocolate for every meal.

Out of all the characters I've built, this one wound up with both the strongest central concept as well as the weakest understanding of how to actually wield her in-game as of yet. In delving into the options, the lifepaths, the backgrounds, the world, I found myself giddy at just what level of conceptually-insane anime-scifi bullshit I could weld together. I had two other, full character concepts before I got ambushed by the gothic spirit of past futurism at 4 AM while making hot dogs, and both were as functionally intriguing and as narratively apt as Mary Shelley With A Gun. The world of Infinity is a compelling one, partly because it's exactly what I like about history superimposed on the future - no big plot moment, like an apocalypse or one technology that changes everything, but a nested series of developments compacted with a whole lot of Humans Acting Like Humans leading to a central conflict that feels as likely as anything we've ever done so far.

But oh fuck, is it a lot. Flipping through the book, looking for talents and equipment, I'd stumble upon entire other sections as if they were complexity landmines - "Oh god, the hacking section," "Oh god, there's an entire psyop mechanic," "Oh god, right, space." Infinity the RPG is, no joke, probably more complex than Shadowrun. I mean, fuck, it's probably more complex than Rifts. And that complexity is as wide as it is deep, with the ability to turbo-customize your biomechanical warfighter destined for combat death or, fifty pages away, run a social media campaign to tell people that aliens are real and they're coming to get you.

This entire exercise, then, is as much of a success as it can be - I found both the reason I initially fell in love with Infinity as well as the reason I stopped engaging with it. And if I want to carry that love forward, it won't be a matter of reading and digesting a book over an evening - I'll have to sit with this thing for months, chewing passages like hard jerky. By the power of futurist romance, I just might.

Next up: Punching people with a building.

[xyywrites]

The Power of Silence in Dialogue

We often think of dialogue as something that’s just about what characters say, but let’s talk about what they don’t say. Silence can be one of the most powerful tools in your writing toolbox. Here’s why:

1. The Unspoken Tension

When characters leave things unsaid, it adds layers to their interactions. Silence can create a tension that’s so thick you could cut it with a knife. It shows things are happening beneath the surface—the real conversation is happening in what’s left unspoken.

Example:

“So, you’re leaving, huh?” He didn’t look up from the table, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass, slow and deliberate. “Yeah.” “Guess I should’ve expected this.” (Silence.) “You’re not mad?” “I’m not mad,” she said, but the way her voice broke was louder than anything she'd said all night.

2. Building Anticipation or Drama

Sometimes silence can heighten the drama, creating a pause where the reader feels like something big is about to happen. You don’t always need words to convey that sense of dread or anticipation.

Example:

They stood there, side by side, staring at the door that had just closed behind him. “You should’ve stopped him.” She didn’t answer. “You should’ve said something.” The room felt colder. “I couldn’t.” (Silence.)

3. Creating Emotional Impact

Sometimes, saying nothing can have the biggest emotional punch. Silence gives the reader a chance to interpret the scene, to sit with the feelings that aren’t being voiced.

Example:

He opened the letter and read it. And then, without saying a word, he folded it back up and placed it in the drawer. His fingers lingered on the wood for a long time before he closed it slowly, too slowly. “Are you okay?” He didn’t answer.

TL;DR

Silence isn’t just a pause between dialogue—it’s a powerful tool for deepening emotional tension, building anticipation, and revealing character. Next time you write a scene, ask yourself: what isn’t being said? And how can that silence say more than the words ever could?

[cl-0v3r]

Mel is alive, but at what cost

Mel was nearly killed TWICE, her mother began being a struggle, she'd been thrown aside and trying her best to stop her, her boyfriend is not doing well, neither is anyone else (can't blame them) and the fact that she hadn't cried or spoke much about this situation to anyone a single time?? She IS upset about every single thing, yet she stays strong and enduring every bit of torture. The most she did was tell Jayce that Ambessa put her palm on the table, and let him know that she is going to push for hextech. That's it, nothing remotely related to her feelings.

The fact that she was constantly looking at Caitlyn, being able to understand her grief and knew she was in pain?? Mel knows this feeling. She'd went through it.

And in the end SHE has to pay the price of her mothers incompetence.

The intro is very much foreshadowing, we know the hands represent black rose/LeBlanc.

This is what happens in act one, she gets kidnapped by them. The lyrics do correspond to the characters as well (not just Mel, everyone.)

"Tell you you're the greatest" plays as a petal of the black rose floats down the screen, I think it adds significance to the power this organization holds, possibly the Medardas greatest foe.

"But once you turn, they hate us" both Ambessa and Mel were present in this line, I think its foreshadowing for when Ambessa switches up for whatever reason and goes against both Piltover AND Zaun. And Mel WILL go through change as well, a change that could hurt her relationship with others, and receive interest from others too.

"They hate us" could be read individually too, I feel like its a sort of "realization" ?? Perhaps Ambessa WASN'T the one that switched up, maybe Piltover switched up on them, and maybe Mel JUST got out of wherever she's taken to, and saw the mess Ambessa had done to her city??

I think this represents ACT TWO.

The hands pull away and it sort of looks like Mel is fighting back, a "get away from me" type of scream. you know what this reminds me of??

Don't mind me just pushing my Jinx/powder-Mel parallel agenda

Here is when i think Mel truly learns about LeBlanc/BR, she curiously and slowly goes to grab the rose, she learns about the history between her Mother and them, Kinos death, and most of all, learns about HERSELF. The lyrics speak otherwise.

"Pray away, I swear

I'll never be a saint, no way"

This feels like a parallel to caitlyn of sorts if that makes sense. Caitlyn had done everything to try and stop the council from attacking the Undercity, she kept her mouth shut when Jayce asked about Jinxs grenade, she was willing to protect Vi and the undercity, but how many times has she been tossed around? She'd been burned, exploded, kidnapped (god knows what happened during that time) and hit in the face by the same person, her MOTHER died because of the same person. She has every right to go insane. And she is hunting ONE person, which is Jinx. Although she is harming the people around her along the way.

What if Mel goes through a similar situation? Her mother pushed for war in her city, she dragged the enemy along with her even if she didn't mean to, she manipulated everyone around her INCLUDING Jayce, she LITERALLY got Mel hurt from the chembarons attack and killed so many people during a MEMORIAL to get her hextech weapons, Elora is most likely DEAD, not to mention whatever happened in the past between them. And the thing is, this will NEVER end throughout the entire season.

And what if she learns what she is? That she's 'blessed' by Kindred? The fact that the wolf is quite literally in her blood?

I feel like the "ill never be a saint, no way" also sort of indicates Mel will realize she'll never be able to push for peace and mercy like she always hoped for no matter what, and she comes to accept that as much as it hurts. But not like how ambessa accepted the wolf, but she sort of realizes she needs to push a little violence, towards nobody but the one and only, Ambessa "fine, if you want me to be like you, I guess I'll be like you towards YOU." Type of acceptance.

I think its also related to Mels new outfit too, she's dressed like her mother, in red and all of that. I will still stand by the idea that she has plans to decieve, but she will do something she doesn't want to do.

Mel was left with no choice, that lyric sounds like realization, acceptance, but also like a plea at the same time, an "I'll never be who I wanted to be" because in the end, she's still a Medarda, she's still her mothers daughter, she still has violence in her veins, she will never not suffer from the weight her name holds, and she will never escape it either, its like a shadow.

The Characters won't be themselves at their core this season. And those vital parts of their characters that represent them are no longer there in the intro, they all have given up what makes them, THEM design wise. (e.g.) Vi without her tattoo, Viktor hiding his identity with the mask. And the thing is, they did that to themselves because they do self-harm, they're changing themselves because THEY want to, they're forcing themselves to do that, they think they're undeserving and they're erasing their past selves.

But Mel? Mel doesn't have her gold accessories, Jewelry, or her Armor, she'd been stripped bare and hidden away because of the brutality of her name. She pays the price her mother brought to HER city. She's forced to change herself against her will, because nobody is giving her a chance to push for her ideals.

This entire theory never ends, and with all of this? I kinda do see Mel actually committing Matricide, it lifts the "Ambessa will die" theory further.

[quantum1mmortality]

The crew & using toys on their S/O in bed please with a cherry on top??

First time writing the whole crew kinda nervous 🤭🤭 I'm not writing Swansea tho I will NOT be writing nsfw of a married man

Tw/cw; Afab!reader, winners love winning in Anyas hcs (use of the term pillow princess), jorkinit jumpscare

Not proofread

Curly

I'm actually not sure if he'd be into toys

I've literally only written for Curly so I'd say I'm a Curly expert, and I just don't think he'd be into toys

He'd use a vibrator on you every now and then, but he'd just use it to tease you and make you beg for him.

He'd probably use cock rings. I am a firm believer Curly would use cock rings. Not all the time, but if he's had a really stressful day at work, he's wanting an extra hard hitting orgasm.

Omg not a toy but APHRODISIACS!!! This man would go crazy for some aphrodisiacs, whether he's taking it or you are.

Now I wanna write a wedding night one shot with Curly and aphrodisiacs thanks a lot anon 😔😔😔 I've got enough shit to write already

Anya

I don't care what any of you say this woman is a pillow princess

YOU'D be using toys on HER

She'd also be a cryer but that's not the point

She'd have a drawer dedicated to sex toys. She's trying to get into med school, she's CONSTANTLY stressed, how else is she supposed to release some of that stress? Don't judge her.

She wouldn't be into straps or dildos, she'd be into shit that vibrates. Vibrators obviously, rose toys, anything that stimulates the clit honestly

I lied she is into dildos this woman is a sucker for a RABBIT!!! Like I said, if it vibrates, she wants it.

Her favorite combo is the rose toy/vibrator + pussy licking. She cums so fast, then gets embarrassed, then begs for more. Praise her a bunch and she'll be able to go a few more rounds

BONUS CONTENT!!; she has a Christina and Princess Albertina, no further comments

Daisuke

Oh yeah, he's using toys.

He has a tongue piercing and sometimes he'll swap it out for a bar that vibrates but y'all aren't ready for that convo

He's gonna use the basic toys, nothing we haven't gone over yet. Vibrators, rose toys, cock rings, ect. He's just trying to figure out what he likes for right now, and he likes all of them

In missionary, he'd hold either a vibrator or rose up to your clit while he fucks you. Kind of uncomfortable as a position, but if it gets you off, it's worth it to him.

Not sure if this is considered a toy but he'd be interested in sounding. He's definitely had you try it on him once or twice, and he never lasts for more than a minute 😭 poor boy

He's just trying new things out. He's new to having a committed relationship, so anything you'd be into, he'd be willing to try. He'd let you peg him if you wanted, but don't ask me to write that.

My pegging days are over

Jonathan

The kinkiest cunt that ever cursed this god forsaken ship

Toys are a must have for him. On you, not him. He only likes using them on you, because it gives him a sense of power over you.

He'd be one of those assholes that would put a bluetooth vibrator in your panties and wait till you're in public to turn it on the highest setting. Like an asshole

Jizzdaddy would have a lot of toys. He'd have one of those robotic dildo setups that like.. idk does the thrusting how the fuck do I explain this????

You guys get what I mean if you've ever been on a porn site you've seen one

Anyway, he'd have one of those setups and watch it fuck you. Ass up, head down, grasping at whatever you could since HIS sadistic ass turned it up to the highest speed.

Eventually hed get pissed off and fuck you himself, claiming that you love the toy more than you love him 😔 the allegations are true but he doesn't have to know that

He'd also use plugs on you. In public, too. He doesn't care. If you humiliate yourself, that's your fault, not his.

vibrators are used during sex, nothing new. But it's the same situation as before. Claiming you love the toy more than him, so he stops using it.

Sometimes he'll just give in though and decide he doesn't care, and wants to tease you more than anything. Highest speed it can go, or the slowest. No in-between. He'll have you begging one way or another.

Chat I hate writing rough characters someone request ooc soft Joshua hcs so I can write him like I do Curly 🙏🙏🙏

A/N; Anya makes me wanna kiss girls

[dokyumms]

operation: hug me

pairing: woozi x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2.3k

cw: none? reader staying on that only-sleeping-with-a-stuffed-animal agenda, way too much backstory bc i yap

a/n: hey kings, writing this instead of a request as a late bday gift to my moot @lavoilee!! not sure who ur svt bias is so i chose randomly lolol, hope you enjoy!! getting back to doing requests in shorter amounts of time, i just had a hard time thinking of smth good for this haha

jihoon is a weird guy.

okay, let's rephrase that: he's been acting like a weird guy. you can't tell if he's mad at you or in love with you, and you're determined to find out what's up.

it all started one afternoon at a café with your friend. you were both chatting around, just catching up. as both of you sipped on your coffees, the topic had gone from work, to gossip, to... medical check ups?

"how've you been sleeping? 'cause i sure have not been sleeping well," she'd asked randomly, widening her eyes in exasperation and taking another sip of her drink.

"hasn't been that great for me either," you sighed truthfully, recalling the sleepless nights you'd been having since jihoon had been on tour and started promotions for his comeback right after. you were truly proud of him, but it sure did suck not having him to hold onto when he would stay at the studio for the night.

your friend giggled, "why? because your 'jihoonie' hasn't been home?" she teased, mocking the name you accidentally called him while she was over at your place a couple months ago. "oh my god, stop it." you slapped her on the shoulder.

"you know i'm right, though." she teased again, wavering when you glared at her. "okay, okay, but i'm being serious. i remember when my boyfriend went on a business trip i was up all night," she exaggerated, rolling her eyes when you raised an eyebrow at her "up all night as in tossing and turning till my alarm went off. anyways, i ended up buying a stuffed animal to replace him, and it worked! maybe i should start using that again..."

"hm, maybe that'll help," you pondered, writing a reminder to search for one before another conversation began to sprout out of your friend.

that evening, you spent yet another restless night looking through the internet, finally settling on a moderately sized stuffed animal of a black cat after a couple hours of searching. after typing down your (jihoon's) credit card number, your phone vibrated with a call from your boyfriend.

you set your laptop aside and accepted the call, "hoon?"

"hey, babe. um, na pd just kidnapped us again- i'm going to be in france for a week. i'm really sorry, i promise you i didn't know about it till today..."

it took everything in your power not to let out a sigh, but he seemed to tell.

"i understand if you're mad or suspicious, hell, i'd be too. let me facetime you so i can show you that i'm really being kidnapped."

you hummed in response, accepting the facetime call that popped up on your phone not a second later. it was laggy for sure, but you could tell he was at an airport and that hoshi and wonwoo were seated next to him. they both waved happily.

"sorry he couldn't be home y/n! don't get too mad at him- hey!" hoshi called, yelping when wonwoo slapped him.

"ignore him, you should be as mad as you please." wonwoo smiled before hoshi pounced on him. jihoon turned the camera back to him.

"yeah, that's how it's been going. i'll call you as often as i can, okay? i'll make it up to you somehow."

ugh, you couldn't be mad at that, so holding back a sigh, you put on the most undisappointed smile you could muster. "it's okay jihoon, have fun okay? send me lots of photos."

he smiled back, "okay, i love you. and it's late, go to sleep soon, please." he finally said, waiting for you to say it back before he waved a goodbye and hung up.

you flopped back on the couch in disappointment- another week of this? could you even take more of it? "at least i could put that thing to use," you thought as sleep finally began to take over.

two days later, you opened a brown box to reveal a vacuum sealed black blob. you wondered if you got scammed after cutting the plastic off to reveal a slightly less smushed black blob with cat ears. nonetheless, it was too late to return it now, so you just went on with your day, abandoning it in your room.

when you came back that evening, however, you were greeted by the cat you were promised in all of its stuffed glory. now that it was inflated, you could see that the money paid had been worth it. happy with your purchase, you quickly took a shower and got ready for bed.

by 11pm, you were in bed, wrapping up a facetime call with jihoon as the stuffed animal laid besides you. you were both saying your goodbyes when he noticed it next to you.

"did you get a cat?"

you let out a confused noise before looking around you to find the cat he was referring to.

"this? no, it's just a stuffed animal," you explained, holding up the cat plush and waving it in the camera.

"ah, i see. why'd you get it?"

"oh, you know... just to help..." you answered sheepishly in embarrassment. he raised an eyebrow at your answer then simply nodded.

"hm, well.. enjoy it while it lasts. goodnight to you, love you." he said quickly, hanging up right after, leaving you confused with a hand still on the cat.

"enjoy it while it lasts? how weird." you mumbled, sending a quick message in confusion before laying down. it was weird; with the stuffed animal underneath your arms, the bed all of the sudden seemed more comfortable, and a sudden feeling of coziness filled you. you felt less alone.

and before you were able to silence your phone, turn on white noise, everything you normally did to help you sleep, you were passed out.

so, with the success of that night, you began to sleep with it everyday. it really did seem to work, and you made a mental note to thank your friend when you saw her again.

before you knew it, it was the night before jihoon was said to return to korea. you sent him a message, telling him you were going to sleep and laid down with your newfound cuddle buddy. you wrapped your arms around the cat, and fell sound asleep within minutes.

this is where the weirdness began.

you woke up, stirring to the sound of your door opening to find jihoon in the room, suitcase in one hand and wearing a weird expression. it was weirdly neutral, yet still made you uneasy. he looked... mad?

"hoon? you said you weren't coming back till tomorrow.." you murmured. "why do you look like that?"

"look like what?"

"you look mad" you said truthfully, rubbing your eye to get a better look at him.

"i'm not mad? i think you're still sleepy." he said, walking over and joining you on the bed. he tried to get closer to you but was blocked by something. "what's this?"

"i told you, i got a stuffed animal." you answered sleepily holding it up in front of him. "hm, well you don't need it." he said, grabbing it and tossing it across the room.

"hey, be nice to juni."

"you named it??"

"yeah, so what. meanie." you told him, turning away from him. you weren't actually mad, about 5 seconds away from turning back around to hug him, but he sighed before you could do anything. he scooted closer, wrapping his arms around you and somehow getting (more like manhandling) you to turn around.

"babe, i'm sorry. i missed you a lot. i don't know why i threw the cat- i mean juni." he apologized sincerely before nuzzling into your neck, throwing you completely off guard.

you had not meant for him to take your 'sulking' seriously, and also, you two had never cuddled like this, with him being the little spoon. it wasn't that you minded, but jihoon was never big on physical affection in the first place, so it was odd, but nonetheless, you accepted it.

"hoonie, it's fine. i don't care about it that much," you giggled, stroking his hair. "i'm just glad you're home, you came earlier than i thought." you commented. he nodded in response. "just wanted to surprise you." is all he said, snuggling into you further before knocking out.

the only problem was that after about a week of sleeping with the cat, it sort of became a habit, so the same thing happened for the next 3 days. you would fall asleep with the cat, wake up to jihoon looking mad at you, and then he would start cuddling with you as if he was a whole different person.

which leads you to now.

instead of consulting with him like a normal person, you decide to go to your friend, the same one who suggested getting the stuffed animal in the first place.

"isn't it obvious?" she says after hearing your story. you're both at the same café, sipping the same drinks and everything. you look at her in confusion. "if it was obvious, i don't think i'd be asking? come on, just tell me." you plead, desperate to get your boyfriend to stop scaring you in the middle of the night.

"fine, fine. i'll tell you... he obviously wants you to cuddle with him!"

"yeah, that's what we've been doing. for the past 4 years we've been dating" you deadpan, but she just rolls her eyes at you. "okay yeah, but not like that." she explains, rolling her eyes again when you're dumbfounded.

"he wants you to cuddle with him like how you cuddle that cat! duh! is that not how you hug it or what?" she exaggerates, nearly standing up at how oblivious you are. you take a minute to think back to the last couple nights.

huh, maybe she's right (again? seriously, you got to stop boosting her ego). you normally slept with the stuffed animal with it tucked under your head, was jihoon really jealous of that? come to think of it, he'd always been the big spoon, but it's not like you two had assigned roles to each other or anything, so why would he wait so long just for you to cuddle with him like that? must be some weird double standard bullshit.

anyways, now you have a plan. the goal? to get jihoon to admit his fears once and for all (and partially for him to stop looking at you weirdly in the middle of the night).

when you get home, jihoon's passed out on the couch. not a problem. you go along with your day, finish some coursework, and then get ready for bed. essentially, you do everything you'd do on a normal day, but when it's time for bed, you call out for your boyfriend.

"jihoon! shouldn't you go shower?" you ask. he groans from the living room, shuffling around before entering the bedroom, opening some drawers and pulling out random clothes from it. "i'll be back soon," he says, entering the bathroom. "i'll wait for you～" you sing song back.

only 15 minutes later, he's walking out of the bathroom in his usual sleep wear, no shirt and black shorts. if this had been around 4 years ago when you started living together, you would've gawked at the sight, but by now you were used to it (more like, you learned how to control your reaction).

you put down your phone and watch intently as he walks over. "why are you looking at me like that-" he's cut off mid-question when you drag him onto the bed as soon as he's close enough.

he lands with an 'oomph' and you use all your strength to pull him so he's tucked into you. you honestly think he's going to pop straight back up, but he doesn't, simply complying and cuddling closer to you.

"do you like this?" you ask, holding him close. he seems taken aback; his breath hitches against your neck, and there's a long silence before he answers. "um..."

"i knew it! why didn't you just say so baby?" you say, almost teasingly. he groans, but doesn't push back. if anything, he gets closer, trying to hide the obvious flush that starts to spread across his face. you don't tease him any further, deciding he's embarrassed enough, and simply continue to hold him in a comfortable silence.

"but seriously, why didn't you tell me? i have no problem with it." you ask after a while, looking down to check if he's even awake when a minute passes without an answer. he looks up at you shyly before explaining.

"i didn't even know i liked it until i came home and saw you hugging that thing, really. i guess i was jealous of it? i couldn't tell until i was in that position and realized that i enjoyed it. it felt weird to ask for it, so i just waited till you were.. dazed? god, that sounds bad." he says, putting his head down at the last sentence.

you laugh, "what?? i didn't know you were so evil my hoonie." you tease, letting him break free from your grasp and use juni to smack you in the face. and you decide you're not taking that, so a pillow fight breaks out, except he's still clutching onto the cat with his life, not letting it go as he swings at you. before long, you both give up, landing on the bed, sweating and hearts pounding.

you're both laying on your back, staring up at the ceiling. "wow, it's really been awhile since i did that." he comments, turning his head at you. maybe that's only something you hear in movies, but you don't care. "come over here, you sappy guy."

he listens, rolling over and letting you tuck him into your chest. "your sappy guy, right?" he asks, voice vibrating against you.

"my sappy guy? maybe i should've been doing this from the start-" and he's hitting you again.

[sunderwight]

Fic where Su Xiyan lives but she's like, a huge asshole about it.

Tianlang Jun still gets stuck under the mountain, see, and Su Xiyan's been thoroughly betrayed by her own master, and seemingly not just him but also all the other major sects too. They all sided against her and against her lover based on prejudice. The fact that they were tricked likely wouldn't be known to her, from the outside it would just look as though they all readily dogpiled on at the first opportunity to take down a heavenly demon, even though he never did anything wrong.

Plus her own reputation has been ground to dust, going from the respected head disciple of the second greatest sect to being slandered as a honeypot who seduced a demon emperor in order to bring him down. She was used to destroy the man she loves, she almost died trying to keep her baby, her cultivation's probably taken a massive hit and she has no chance of getting to that mountain and digging her lover out from under it. Even if she could, he believes she betrayed him, so what kind of reception could she hope for?

Not that this will stop her from trying to dig him out anyway, but it's not like she can just snap her fingers and get him out. There's a whole mountain on him, and she's on the run with an infant.

So she decides she's going to make this everyone's problem as much as she can.

For a couple of years she lays low, just trying to rebuild her cultivation and look after the baby. If she's being honest, she's not great at it. She loves her son but maternal instincts don't really kick in, he's kind of a shriveled ball of misery and mess, and she doesn't really see the appeal. It gets better as he starts to get bigger and more of a personality asserts itself, and she can start treating him more like a small human than a wailing parasite that's latched onto her tit.

She would still hire someone else to look after him at the first possible opportunity, but she's paranoid about some aspect of his seal slipping and giving them away. With no body ever recovered, Huan Hua Palace is still looking for her. So she's stuck with childcare and she hates every minute of it and spends most of her time changing diapers just seething about dropping her old shifu into a mountain of shit and watching him suffocate.

Once Binghe is big enough to walk, and Su Xiyan is well enough to fight, they make for the borderlands. Su Xiyan starts teaching her son the earliest forms of cultivation he can learn, but his demon heritage is still sealed and right now he's too weak and small to risk unsealing it. So she focuses on herself, on rebuilding her own strength, turning to demonic methods and forbidden techniques (why not, when one has already been tarred and feathered and was never particularly precious about righteousness to begin with?) and hunting other cultivators just as often as demonic beasts.

Time passes and Su Xiyan begins to build a reputation even worse than Wu Yanzi's. A deadly rogue cultivator known only by some epithet or other who kills even powerful disciples of mighty sects. She experiments with what it would take to destroy a mountain, how much force, and what could provide it. Sacrificial arrays that feed off of the energy of cultivators or demons. Rituals and artifacts that demand high prices. Ways to summon demons or open gateways for them to possess others. She even considers using her son -- his blood is heavenly demon blood, his body is the closest thing she has to a suitable vessel for Tianlang Jun.

It would probably work, is the thing.

As the thought turns around her mind and she washes the blood from her hands, she decides that she's got to send her son away, actually. He's too weak and burdensome (and the fact she'd even consider using him such a way means that not even she is fully safe for him to be around any longer, not with the kinds of things she's doing, not with the kind of creature she's becoming). Now that he's big enough to survive on his own, she can ditch him somewhere to level up and bring him back once he's got enough strength to actually make himself useful.

So she sends him off, tells him not to come back until he's strong, ignores the tears and the hands gripping her robes until she finally has to wrench them away and strand the boy in a city far enough from her hunting grounds that he can't easily get back on his own.

Of course, he does still try, but he's lost and doesn't know where he's going. A kindly washerwoman takes pity on him and takes him in. The now-named Luo Binghe (his mother only ever called him 'son') isn't sure what he's supposed to be doing, but he suspects it's not just keeping house with his new caretaker. However, at the ripe old age of five he doesn't really know what else to do, so he stays and gradually the memories of the cold-eyed woman he called mother start to fade, until he wonders how much of it was merely a dream.

When his second mother dies and encourages him to go become a cultivator, Binghe decides that sounds right, so he goes to the Cang Qiong entrance exams and gets taken in. There's something familiar about his new shizun. Not in his looks, really, but in the way he acts, how he snaps and sneers, how he seems to hate Binghe but also claims him. Luo Binghe finds himself utterly desperate for the man's approval, even though he can't completely explain why. But it feels like, if he could just get this person to love him, the world might make sense.

Shen Qingqiu doesn't love him, though, if anything he hates him, and that only seems to change at random after a qi deviation. Which at first drives Luo Binghe slightly mad trying to figure out what he did and guarantee he can keep it, but gradually his thoughts and feelings on his master start to shift as, it seems, the man becomes someone completely different.

Meanwhile Su Xiyan has built up enough strength and information that she has a plan to move a mountain using a legendary blade that can open portals. She's also gradually begun to infiltrate her old sect again, using dark techniques to turn some of her former shidimei into puppets. By the time the Immortal Alliance Conference comes around, she's built the underpinnings to take the entire sect out from under her old master, and the chaos of the conference provides the perfect opportunity.

Shen Yuan has no idea what he did to cause the Huan Hua Palace Master to get ripped apart by demons during the invasion, and he's even more confused by the woman who materializes during the final hour and does him the favor of throwing Luo Binghe into the Endless Abyss herself, saying something about needing him to fetch a sword for her before she'll welcome him back to her side.

[halfmoonaria]

unanswered

pairing: tara carpenter and reader

summary: you break the cycle of being the second choice.

wordcount: 3.1k

tara <3 (10:27pm)

i miss you.

can you come over?

sam's not home.

You stared at the messages for a moment, a mix of emotions churning in your chest.

It wasn't the first time Tara had texted you like this—far from it.

Every couple of weeks, when the night stretched out too long and too quiet, she reached out to you. It had become a pattern, one you were all too familiar with.

You knew why she was texting.

It wasn't because she was lonely, at least not in the way you wished she was.

Tara was thinking about Amber.

Amber, who had her wrapped around her finger. You knew how Tara saw her, like she was something special, someone Tara wanted more than anything.

But Amber. Amber only wanted Tara when it suited her, when she needed someone to make her feel powerful, desired.

When Amber wasn't around, Tara turned to you. You were the one who picked up the pieces, who made her feel wanted when Amber didn't care to.

You knew it wasn't about love, not for Tara—not like you wanted it to be. It was about comfort, about filling the void Amber left behind when she was off doing her own thing.

But every time Tara texted, asking you to come over, you went.

You told yourself you'd resist, that this time you wouldn't give in, but the moment you saw her name on your screen, all your resolve crumbled.

Because for those few hours, you got to be the one she wanted, the one she needed, even if it was just physical. Even if it wasn't enough.

You typed out a quick reply, agreeing to come over, even though you knew how it would end. You would be there for her that night, but tomorrow or the next day, Amber would come back, and you would be forgotten, left waiting for the next time Tara needed you.

As you headed to her place, you thought about how it would go.

She would open the door, looking relieved, like she had been waiting for you. You would follow her inside, and before long, she'd be pulling you close, her hands desperate, her lips searching.

And you'd give in, just like you always did, because in those moments, it almost felt like she wanted you, like she needed you.

But in the back of your mind, you knew the truth. You weren't her first choice—Amber was.

You were the one she turned to when Amber wasn't there, when she needed someone, anyone, to fill the space Amber left behind.

And when Amber did want Tara, everything changed.

The texts stopped coming. You sent her messages, trying to check in, to see how she was doing, but they went unanswered.

It was like you didn't exist. Tara disappeared into Amber's world, wrapped up in her like nothing else mattered.

And when you finally did hear from her, it was a curt response, a text saying she wasn't ready for a relationship, that inviting you over had been a mistake. The words stung, even though you had heard them before.

Then the next day, you saw them at school, Tara and Amber, tangled together like they were the only people in the world.

Amber's arm was slung around Tara's shoulders, and Tara was laughing, looking at Amber like she was the only one that mattered.

You watched from a distance, that familiar ache gnawing at your insides, knowing that you were just caught in a loop—a constant cycle that never seemed to end.

You told yourself you'd stop. That the next time Tara reached out, you wouldn't go. But you knew the truth. You'd go, every time, because for those few hours, she was yours, even if it was all a lie.

And maybe, just maybe, you'd let yourself believe that this time, things would be different.

————

It wasn't different.

After leaving Tara's place, you had gone home late at night, slipping out quietly once she had fallen asleep.

The routine was almost ritualistic, carved into your brain. Waiting until the room was silent, then making your way back into the solitude of your own space.

Sleep had been elusive, haunted by the warmth of her presence and the cold reality of your situation.

The night before had been a predictable spiral of emotions. Amber had been ignoring Tara's messages for three long days. Tara had tried repeatedly to reach out, her texts becoming increasingly desperate and tinged with frustration.

Amber's silence had left her feeling raw and abandoned. The usual pattern of their volatile relationship had taken its toll on Tara.

When Tara reached out to you, she had come to you with that familiar blend of vulnerability and need.

It had begun with her confiding in you about Amber's absence, her frustration palpable.

She had spoken of feeling neglected and unwanted, her words mingling with tears as she expressed how Amber's disregard had left her feeling empty.

As the evening wore on, her need for reassurance had grown more intense.

Tara had sought out your touch as if trying to fill the void left by Amber's absence. Her need for physical closeness was almost desperate, driven by the emotional turmoil she was experiencing.

But even as you gave her what she asked for, you knew it was a temporary fix. You were there to soothe the pain and fulfill her need for affection, but you weren't the one she truly wanted.

The next morning, you found yourself at school, moving through the halls with heavy steps, lack of sleep and with that same old sense of anticipation mixed with dread.

You kept checking your phone, hoping for a message from Tara—a simple acknowledgment of what you shared the night before, anything to suggest that she felt something more.

But the screen remained dark, and with each passing hour, the silence grew louder, echoing the realization that you were still just a momentary distraction in her life.

During a break between classes, you walked through the corridor, your mind preoccupied.

That's when you saw them.

Tara and Amber.

They stood by the lockers. Tara was laughing, her face lit with a joy you hadn't seen since the last time Amber had returned.

And then there was Amber, her arm casually slung around Tara, claiming her with the ease of someone who knew they were wanted.

As you walked past, Tara's eyes caught yours for the briefest of moments.

There was something in her expression—an almost imperceptible flicker of guilt or perhaps regret—but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

She looked away, her attention snapping back to Amber, who seemed completely unaware of the tension that had passed between you.

It stung. The way she could so easily disconnect from what had happened between you, the way she could just switch off her emotions and return to Amber as if nothing had changed.

You tried to push the feeling aside, to focus on your classes, but it lingered, a bitter reminder that, no matter how much you wanted things to be different, they never would be.

As the day wore on, you sent another text to Tara, hoping for some form of acknowledgment or a sign that things might be different.

When school ended and you headed home, the ache of being a second choice weighed on you.

The cycle was all too familiar: Tara's need for you when Amber wasn't available, and the emptiness that followed when Amber reappeared.

Each time you allowed yourself to hope for something more, you were met with the same cycle of anticipation and disappointment.

In the quiet of your room, you found yourself once again waiting for the next time Tara might reach out, even though you knew how it would end.

The hope that things might change felt increasingly fragile.

As night fell, the familiar loneliness crept in, settling in the pit of your stomach. You couldn't shake the memory of her touch, the way she had clung to you just hours before.

The emptiness of your room felt suffocating, amplifying the silence that had stretched on throughout the day.

You reached for your phone, staring at the screen, battling with yourself.

You knew you shouldn't reach out, knew it would only lead to more heartache. But the need for some kind of connection, any connection, gnawed at you. The words you wanted to say swirled in your mind—questions, reassurances, anything to pull her back toward you, even for just a moment.

Finally, you gave in, typing out something that almost seemed too desperate, even for you.

i don't want to bother you, but i just dont get why u can't answer.

Your thumb hovered over the send button, hesitating for a moment, knowing that sending it might only lead to more disappointment.

But the need for her to acknowledge you, even in the smallest way, was too strong to resist. You hit send, the message slipping into the void, joining the countless others that had been left unaddressed.

You scrolled to the last message you'd sent earlier.

i miss you. can we talk?

It still sat there, unanswered, just like so many others.

Then, the waiting began—each passing minute feeling like an eternity as you stared at your phone, hoping for the familiar buzz that would signal a reply.

The hope that she might respond, that things might be different this time, felt fragile, like it could shatter at any moment. But still, you clung to it, knowing that even the smallest sign from her would be enough to keep you holding on.

A few hours later, just as you were beginning to lose hope, your phone buzzed in your hand.

Your heart leapt, but the anticipation quickly turned to dread as you read Tara's reply.

tara <3 (11:49pm)

can you stop? i don't want to do this anymore. i don't want anything to do with you.

You stared at Tara's message, trying to process the harshness of her words.

They were unlike anything she had sent before—usually, it was as simple as her saying she wasnt ready for a relationship, or an apologetic excuse.

But tonight, her response was stark and final, a sharp difference to the usual uncertainty.

The weight of her words settled heavily, and the familiar ache of being a backup choice intensified.

You had been through this cycle countless times: waiting for her, hoping for something more, only to be pushed aside when Amber reappeared.

But this time, something felt different—more definitive, more cutting.

The message wasn't just a dismissal; it felt like a cold rejection, an end to the hope you'd been clinging to.

It stung, more than you wanted to admit, especially because it was a departure from her usual way of handling things.

This wasn't about being unsure or wanting space—it was a clear, unambiguous statement that she didn't want you in her life, at least not right now.

You were tired of the endless cycle, the emotional rollercoaster that left you waiting for her next move, only to be met with the same predictable outcome.

The frustration and hurt mingled with a reluctant clarity. It was time to accept that this wasn't going to change, that hoping for more only led to deeper disappointment.

As you set your phone down, the finality of her words clung to you.

It was a painful realization, but perhaps it was a necessary one.

The time had come to stop being her second choice, to stop waiting for a sign that things might be different.

The message was a harsh reminder that you deserved more than the fragments of attention she had been offering.

____

The following days passed quietly.

Tara didn't reach out—not a single message, not even a glance in the hallways at school.

The silence was new, unsettling in its finality, but surprisingly, you found yourself adjusting quicker than you expected.

Maybe it was because you had set your mind to it, determined to break the cycle that had kept you stuck for so long.

You stayed busy, filling the spaces where your thoughts might have wandered back to her.

It wasn't easy, but it felt different this time—like there was a real shift in the way you handled it. Each day that passed without hearing from her was a small victory, proof that you could move forward, even if it still hurt.

But what struck you the most was the time. It had never passed this long without Tara reaching out to you.

In the past, the silence might last a day or two at most, and then you'd see her name on your phone, pulling you back into the familiar rhythm. But now, the days stretched on, and with each one, the possibility of her return seemed to slip further away.

You couldn't help but wonder if Amber had finally come around, realized her own behavior, and decided to commit to Tara in the way she had always craved.

Maybe that's why Tara hadn't reached out—because this time, Amber wasn't pushing her away. Maybe this time, Amber was staying.

You thought this was the end.

Maybe in a way, you even wanted it to be over.

The endless cycle of being Tara's second choice had drained you, and a clean break, painful as it was, seemed like the only way to move forward. If Amber had finally come through for Tara, then maybe you could let go for good.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

It was late on a Saturday night when your phone buzzed again. At first, you didn't even check it—assuming it was just a notification, something unimportant. But then, another buzz, and the vibration against your nightstand was impossible to ignore.

You glanced over, already knowing who it was before you even saw the name.

Tara.

The message sat there, glowing up from the screen in the dark of your room, cutting through the false sense of peace you'd managed to create. For a moment, you didn't want to open it. You didn't want to see what she had to say, because you knew where it would lead. It was never simple with Tara—it was always a pull, always a need that brought you back, even when you knew better.

But your fingers moved anyway, unlocking the phone and opening the message.

tara (2:03am)

are u awake?

Three simple words, but they were enough to unravel everything.

Enough to remind you that maybe you weren't as far gone from her grasp as you had hoped.

You didn't need to ask. You could already guess the situation.

Amber was probably at some party again, the kind where Tara was never invited, where Amber went alone and never bothered to check if Tara wanted to come along.

You could picture it perfectly—Amber's social media lighting up with photos and stories, flashing images of her having the time of her life, surrounded by people, as if Tara didn't exist.

Tara had always hated that. You knew the jealousy had probably started to build, slowly at first, until it reached a point where Tara couldn't take it anymore, and now she was turning to you.

Again.

It was always the same. Amber made her feel small, invisible, and then Tara reached out to you, seeking comfort and reassurance.

And you'd always been there—like a lifeline she could tug on when the weight of Amber's indifference got too heavy. But this time, something in you snapped. You were tired. Tired of being the backup plan, tired of picking up the pieces whenever Amber shattered her.

You didn't want to do it anymore.

Not this time.

The routine had become suffocating, a weight pressing down on your chest, and every time you gave in, it only added to the ache.

You could feel the familiar pull of her message, but instead of giving in, there was a resistance in you, stronger than before.

This wasn't your mess to clean up anymore. You were tired of being the person Tara came to when things didn't go her way with Amber. Tired of being her second choice, the one she used when her first option failed her.

Your heart sank as you stared at her message, knowing what she wanted, what she was asking for without even having to say it. And for the first time, you realized that you didn't have the energy to give her what she wanted. You didn't have it in you to be that person for her anymore.

You didn't answer.

For the first time, you just let the message sit there, ignored. You couldn't bring yourself to respond. Not this time.

Your phone buzzed again, and then again, as Tara's messages came through in rapid succession, each one more desperate than the last.

i'm sorry.

i didn't mean what i said.

please, i'm so sorry.

i do want you. i swear, i do.

The notifications kept lighting up your screen, each one tugging at that old part of you, the part that always responded, always showed up when she needed you.

But you didn't open them. Not tonight. You stared at her words, feeling a familiar ache in your chest, but this time it was mixed with something else—resolve. You knew what this was. You knew it was the same cycle playing out all over again, and you were tired of it.

She kept sending more messages, fragments of apologies, excuses, trying to pull you back in.

please talk to me.

i miss u.

please don't ignore me

i need you.

But you couldn't do it. Not anymore. You let the phone buzz, let her words pile up without an answer, because this time, you weren't going to be the one who gave in.

The ache in your chest tightened, but this time it wasn't enough. You weren't going to be pulled back into the same pattern. Not again.

You felt your thumb hover over the screen, hesitating for only a moment before tapping to block her number. It wasn't easy, but it felt like the only thing left to do.

The silence that followed was deafening, the buzzing of your phone replaced with an emptiness that was almost worse. Almost.

But there was also a strange sense of relief. It wasn't the closure you wanted, but it was the closure you needed. For the first time, you chose yourself. You chose to let go.

And as the night stretched on, you found a quiet peace in the stillness, knowing that this time;

you wouldn't be waiting for her anymore.

[yamujiburo]

Here's an arc I thought about doing but won't do because, it'd be a bit too sad and also it's too similar to the Turing Point Arc I already did and also it would be long. But I'll write it here for you angst enjoyers. This ended up being longer than I thought.

Despite getting the "okay" from Ash to date Jessie, Delia still worries that she's not doing the right thing or being a bad mom. Up until now she'd convinced herself that she had the right to be selfish for once after knowing only sacrifice and putting herself last.

Jessie and Ash, while not as antagonistic towards each other, still go at it. A Pikachu zap here, an angry "twerp" being uttered there. The guilt settles in for Delia and figures that it's best to just cut things off before things potentially get worse or before she gets too attached to Jessie. Her son comes first after all. That's what she signed up for when becoming a parent.

She sits Jessie down, eyes watery (it's the first time Jessie's ever seen Delia come close to crying). Delia says she thinks they should end things. Jessie is stunned but accepts it quickly. She sucks it up in the moment, puts a resigned smile on her face and tells Delia she'll leave immediately and not to worry about her. Delia's also broken up about it but promised herself she'd never cry over a goodbye and she wasn't gonna start now.

Jessie goes to James and Meowth's place greeted similarly to this, lightly teasing her about blowing it with Delia, and she breaks down sobbing. Oops it's real this time. James and Meowth do everything in their power to make her feel better. They let her know that things like this happen and they're ready to go wherever she wants to go (knowing that it'd likely be to painful for her to stay in Pallet). As much as she wants to leave, she doesn't want James and Meowth to lose the good thing they have going. She's not in the right headspace to make any decisions so she'll get to it later.

Ash returns home after doing a little training at Oak's lab. He notices Jessie's not around and asks his mom where she is. Delia is about to tell him but can't quite bring herself to say the truth out loud yet. She simply says "I don't know". Ash looks disappointed. "Aw man, I wanted to see if she wanted to battle. She makes a good battle buddy for all of my newer, baby Pokémon." Delia perks up that this. As quickly as he came, he leaves again to go train his Pokémon.

Later, Delia approaches Ash, asking him if he really meant that what he said about Jessie being a good battle partner. He gives her an enthusiastic "yeah!" and tells her that it's been nice having another battle ready trainer around since there's not many in Pallet. Delia starts to pry a little more. "I thought you and Jessie didn't get along?" Ash is confused, and tells Delia they get along great! "Jessie doesn't steal anymore! And she's getting better at battling which is cool." Delia brings up that she's head them argue before. "Oh... well I guess that's just how we are. I'd be weirded out if she was suddenly too nice to me all the time. Jessie's actually a lot like Misty. But taller!" This gives Delia a lot to think about but what's done is done and it's no use pressing on. It's easier this way.

The next morning Delia's getting ready for work. She must not have noticed that she was acting weird but Ash picks up on it. "What's wrong mom?" Delia's shocked he noticed (he's not usually this perceptive). She tells him it's nothing and that she just slept bad. "Hm. But Jessie says that when you're upset you get really quiet and intense." Delia notices that she was pretty intensely mixing the pancake batter. "Jessie told you that?" Ash nods. "Hey speaking of, where is Jessie? Haven't seen her since yesterday." Delia stops mixing and tells Ash that she and Jessie aren't together anymore. Ash is confused and upset at the idea of Jessie doing something that would hurt his mom enough for them to break up. Delia lets him know that Jessie didn't do anything like that and that them breaking up was just for the best. But Ash questions this, pointing out that he's never seen Delia as happy as she was when Jessie was there and also how Delia looks really sad now. Delia can't argue with that but then tells him that it's complicated. Ash, to Delia's surprise, looks a bit disappointed. He's bummed he wasn't able to say goodbye first and asks if she thinks Jessie would still be willing to come by and train with him sometimes. Delia asks him once more if he was really okay with her and Jessie dating. "Yeah I thought I said that already? Jessie's pretty cool when she's not being evil. And she really likes Pokémon which is a plus!" Such simple criteria. Delia's now worried that she might've made a mistake. She finishes making breakfast and heads to work.

At the restaurant she's met by James. She can feel an awkwardness hanging in the air. She knows that James knows. Before she can say anything James tells Delia thank you for employing him and helping him, Meowth and Jessie get back on their feet but that he's going to quit working at the restaurant and that they'll likely be leaving Pallet soon. Delia's heart sinks. There's now a ticking clock and she has to decide what she wants to do SOON. She asks James where Jessie is. James hesitantly tells her that she's at his and Meowth's place. Delia pleads with James to work the restaurant for one more day at least and to cover this shift. She has to go talk to Jessie. He agrees, hoping that this is a good thing.

Delia runs to James and Meowth's place. She knocks on the door upon arrival and waits. It takes a moment but she hears the door unlock. Jessie opens the door, disheveled, tears and snot all over her face, draped in a blanket. Jessie notices it's Delia and, frightened, slams the door. Delia's stunned for a moment and goes to knock on the door again but before she can the door opens. This time Jessie's tears are gone, her hair's fixed and she ditched the blanket. "Oh hey, Delia! What brings you here?" Delia can't help but be charmed. But this is serious. She shakes it off and asks if they could talk. Jessie invites her in. They get to the couch and Jessie starts frantically cleaning up all the crumpled tissues and dirty dishes off the ground. "Heh I caught a cold yesterday. A one day cold. I'm fine now." Delia doesn't call out the obvious lie and gets straight to the point.

She tells Jessie that she's worried she made a mistake. She made a panicked decision that she was hoping would protect Ash and her future self. But now realizes that she was afraid of the idea that she'd made a selfish decision by dating her. It was a selfish decision but that didn't mean it was a bad one. She was the happiest she'd been, Jessie and Ash were learning to get along and were getting along much better than she'd though. She acknowledges that Jessie has been there for Ash in a way that she can't quite be and is also grateful to her for managing to keep Ash home a little longer. She asks if Jessie would be willing to take her back (despite the distress she caused). Jessie starts sobbing with happy tears. She tearfully says she'll try even harder to get along with Ash and be a better person. Delia reassures her that she's doing just fine.

They kiss passionately but then realize it's weird that they're making out in James in Meowth's place and say they'll continue later. Delia tells Jessie to head back home and that Ash is looking forward to battling with her (and she also needs to let James and Meowth not to quit their jobs).

The end~

[smellslikemothman]

She was warned.

The locals always said to never touch a fallen angel, or she'd get hurt.

No one knew why the war in Heaven started, only that angels were falling. Their once prideful and prudish stance now wavering as they struggle to cope with mortal existence. Taking pity on the angels, many offered what little work was available, such as working the fields or assisting the blacksmith. They were confused at the concept of daily work, at toiling for their supper, but they were slowly adapting to the mortal life.

But there is something more, something ancient and powerful, that erupted once an angel fell. Need. The need to touch, to taste, to be tasted. They didn't understand why, but something as simple as a pat on the shoulder would send the fallen one into a state of touch-starved desire, jealousy, and lust.

Sex was not a thing in Heaven. No, angels were above the common mortals that the Gods favored so much. They didn't need intimacy or even touch, let alone sex. So the fallen were consumed by this newfound need, and didn't stop until exhaustion took them.

Often, their sights would fall on a human who showed them that peculiar empathy, the kindness of free food, bandaging their wounds, or the hospitality of a spare bedroom drawing them closer to humans than they had ever before.

And she was one of those humans.

The villagers told her to never touch a fallen angel, that they needed to adjust to basic needs like eating and sleeping first. But if you touched a fallen one, they'd be too strong, their frenzy of emotions and lust easily overpowering any human frame.

And as she was held there against her living room wall, legs wrapped around the fallen angel's waist, sweat glistening on her skin, her cunt dripping and twitching as he relentlessly pounded into her, her only thoughts were the sound of his hips smacking against her body, and his grunts in the crook of her neck.

Everywhere he touched he left bruises. Her nipples were sore from his firm and inexperienced hands and teeth. Bite marks littered her neck and shoulders, and thought was nearly impossible. She tried to convey that it was too much, that she needed to rest, but in his frenzy her words barely made it to his ears.

They came together for a third time as he snarled into her neck, her body weak and sore from hours of being held against a wall. In a moment of clarity he saw the bruising, the teeth marks, the twitching red soreness of her body, all he was responsible for. A new feeling erupted like a volcano, one he couldn't quite understand. He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom, where a barrel tub sat in the corner. Still possessing some divine magic, he summoned hot water, and calming steam filled the room.

After getting her some water to drink and gently cleaning her off, she mumbled something he didn't quite catch, that horrible feeling in his gut overwhelming his senses. He placed her in the tub and she moaned softly, looking up at him through exhausted eyes.

But what was in her eyes wasn't fear, anger, or even pain, it was concern. Concern for him? He looked down at his shaking hands and felt a strange stinging sensation in his eyes. They welled up and started leaking, salty fluid rolling down his cheeks to his lips.

Tears. These were tears. The feeling finally identified itself. Guilt. He cried his apologies and held her softly against him. He knew even fallen angels were much stronger than any human, how did he let himself go that far? Was this the price of free will, causing pain to others who only offered kindness? Will he ever learn to control these feelings?

But when he released her, she was smiling. Noticing his confusion instantly, she held a soft hand to his cheek.

"Next time let's use the bed."

[melanchoire]

CAN'T STOP THE HIGH ──── yu jimin.

── ( 🎞️ ) you thought shamelessly flirting with your girlfriend’s friends at her birthday party was a harmless prank to get a rise out of her, you inadvertently unleash her darker side, and now karina is turning the tables: now, you're at her mercy, forced to endure a series of increasingly provocative and humbling tasks as she reshapes your behavior, using your deepest desires against you in a humiliating power play designed to teach you a lesson you won’t soon forget.

pairing. dom!girlfriend!gp karina x sub!girlfriend!fem reader

warning(s). cum eating, deep throat, degradation, hair pulling, throat fucking.

word count. 3,6k

author’s note. this comes from a request that an anon made a couple of days ago.

the music throbbed in your chest, a relentless bassline mirroring the frantic beat of your heart. balloons bobbed, streamers shimmered, and the air crackled with the infectious energy of a birthday celebration. karina, radiant in a dress that seemed to catch and amplify the fairy lights strung across her apartment, was the epicenter of it all. her laughter, bright and unrestrained, echoed through the room, drawing everyone in.

except you.

you stood near the overflowing snack table, ostensibly refilling your plate, but mostly just trying to look like you weren’t completely wilting inside. karina, your girlfriend, the woman you loved with a fervor that sometimes scared you, was surrounded by her friends. and not just surrounded, she was engulfed. they were a vibrant, boisterous mass, each vying for her attention, each basking in the warmth of her smile.

you tried to tell yourself it was silly, childish even, to feel this way. it was her birthday. she deserved to be happy, to be fêted. you should be happy for her. but a gnawing unease had taken root in your stomach hours ago, a cold knot that tightened with every shared joke, every lingering hug, every inside reference you weren’t privy to.

you watched as karina threw her head back, her laughter ringing out as yeji said something. yeji, with her easy confidence and effortless charm, always seemed to command karina’s attention. it wasn’t that you didn’t like yeji, you did. all of karina’s friends were great. it was just… you wanted karina’s attention too. you wanted to be the one making her laugh, the one she sought out in a crowded room.

but she was busy. terribly, wonderfully busy. and you were left standing on the periphery, feeling like an afterthought. you’d tried earlier, nudging into the conversation, offering a silly compliment about her outfit, but she'd just smiled distractedly, said a quick “thanks, babe!” and then turned right back to her friends.

jealousy, that ugly green monster, reared its head. the green-eyed monster gnawed at you. you knew it was irrational. it was her birthday, of course she wanted to be with her friends. but the constant stream of attention she gave everyone but you was suffocating. you felt invisible, a decorative wallflower at your own girlfriend’s party.

an idea, reckless and fueled by wounded pride, began to bloom in your mind. it was petty, childish, and probably destined to backfire spectacularly. but the thought of letting karina experience even a fraction of the isolation you were feeling was intoxicating.

okay, here we go.

operation: make karina jealous, was a go.

you took a deep breath and plastered a smile on your face. you spotted giselle near the speakers, bobbing her head to the music. “hey, giselle! great party, right?’ you said, your voice a little too loud.

giselle turned, her eyes widening in what you hoped was surprise, but might have just been mild amusement. “hey! yeah, it’s a blast. you look great, by the way.”

hou grinned, a touch too wide. “thanks. so do you. that dress really suits you.” you knew giselle was the flirtatious one of the group. maybe leaning in.

the conversation flowed easily enough. giselle was witty and engaging, and for a moment, you almost forgot your earlier grievances. you laughed at her jokes, made a few of your own, and even managed to make her blush with a well–placed compliment about her dancing skills.

then you deliberately caught winter’s eye. winter, with her quiet intensity and undeniable beauty, was currently deep in conversation with a group of people, but you saw her glance over. you gave her a playful wink and tilted your head, inviting her to join you.

winter hesitated for a moment, then excused herself and came over. “hey,” she said, her voice soft. “what’s up?”

“just enjoying the music.” you said, your gaze lingering on her a little longer than necessary. “and the company.”

you could feel karina’s gaze on you, but you stubbornly refused to look in her direction. you bantered with winter, letting your hand brush against hers as you reached for a chip. you noticed the way winter’s eyes sparkled when you told her she had a great sense of style, a style you normally fawned over Karina with. you knew you were being manipulative, but you just wanted her to feel a little like you did.

next, you moved on to ningning, complimenting her on her singing voice (which was genuinely amazing) and teasing her about her competitive spirit during games night. you made sure your tone was light and playful, bordering on flirty. when ningning playfully jabbed you in the ribs and said, “you’re just saying that because i always win against you!” and you laughed and said, “maybe. or maybe it’s because you're incredibly charming.”

you were walking a tightrope, a precarious dance between harmless banter and blatant flirting. you knew you were pushing the boundaries, testing the waters. and you also knew you were succeeding.

from the corner of your eye, you saw karina excuse herself from her conversation with yeji. she walked towards the balcony, her shoulders tense.

karina plastered a smile on her face, trying to focus on what yeji was saying about her upcoming audition. but her attention flitted elsewhere. you were over there, practically glued to giselle, laughing at some story yeji couldn’t hear. was giselle even touching your arm? ugh.

karina took a sip of her drink, the sweetness doing little to soothe the burning in her chest. she tried to tell herself it was nothing. you were just being friendly, probably just trying to fit in. but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

then you were talking to winter, your eyes crinkling at the corners as you smiled at something she said. karina remembered the way you used to look at her, that same look on your face, a month ago. seeing it directed at someone else made her stomach clench.

and then, ningning. you were laughing with ningning, your head tilted close to hers, your eyes sparkling with amusement. ningning, who, let’s be honest, has been known to flirt with anything that moves.

you saw karina across the room, her head tilted towards yeji, but her eyes were locked on you. you held ningning's gaze for another moment, a small, almost imperceptible smirk playing on your lips before turning back to your drink.

at first, karina tried to ignore it. she continued her conversation with yeji, forcing a bright smile, but her eyes kept darting back to you. she’d laugh at yeji’s jokes, but the sound felt hollow, forced. the easy flow of conversation stuttered and stalled. she kept glancing at you, her brow furrowed, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes.

she tried to convince herself that you were just being friendly, that she was being paranoid. But with each passing minute, the knot in her stomach tightened. she saw you throw your head back and laugh at something winter said. she watched ningning playfully punch your arm after you whispered something in her ear. She observed the way giselle kept finding excuses to touch your arm, your shoulder, your hand.

“karina? you okay?” yeji asked, her voice laced with concern. “you seem a million miles away.”

karina forced another smile. “yeah, i’m fine. Just... a little overwhelmed, i guess.”

“overwhelmed? it’s your birthday! you should be having fun.”

“i am having fun.” karina insisted, a little too quickly. “it’s just... you know, a lot of people.”

yeji raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “is this about your girl?”

karina’s facade crumbled. “what? no! what about (y/n)?”

“you’ve been staring at her all night.” yeji pointed out gently. “and not in a good way.”

karina sighed and slumped against the wall. “i don't know, yeji. i just... it feels like she’s ignoring me. like she’s more interested in talking to everyone else than in spending time with me.”

“maybe she’s just trying to be social.” yeji suggested. “you know how she gets at parties.”

“but it’s my birthday! i feel like she should be paying attention to me, not flirting with half my friend group.” karina’s voice rose, her frustration bubbling to the surface.

yeji put a hand on her arm. “hey, calm down. you’re getting worked up over nothing. maybe you should just talk to her.”

“talk to her? what am i supposed to say? ‘hey, i’m jealous of my own friends because you’re paying more attention to them than to me?’” karina rolled her eyes. “that sounds ridiculous.”

“well, maybe not in those words…” yeji conceded. “but you need to communicate how you’re feeling. otherwise, things will just fester, and you’ll end up blowing up over something stupid. is she even aware of how you are feeling?”

karina knew yeji was right, but the thought of confronting you filled her with anxiety. what if she was overreacting? what if you accused her of being clingy or insecure? what if you were actually enjoying the attention from her friends?

“i just don’t want to make a scene.” karina mumbled, her gaze fixed on her feet.

“you won’t.” yeji said firmly. “just pull her aside and tell her how you’re feeling. i understand you, you're my friend. the way she is behaving is bothering you. that’s all. she loves you, karina. she’ll understand."

karina took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. yeji was right. she needed to talk to you. she couldn’t let her insecurities ruin her birthday.

“okay.” karina said, her voice barely a whisper. “okay, i’ll talk to her.”

she pushed herself off the wall and squared her shoulders. “wish me luck.”

yeji gave her a reassuring smile. “you don’t need luck. just be honest. and remember, you’re amazing, and she’s lucky to have you."

karina managed a weak smile in return. she walked back into the party, her eyes scanning the crowd. you were still standing by the snack table, now engrossed in a conversation with ningning. karina’s jaw tightened.

you continued your charade, expertly weaving through the crowd, leaving a trail of calculated flirtation and manufactured interest in your wake. you caught snatches of conversation, sideways glances, and the mounting tension in the air. you knew you were being petty, that you were stooping to a level unbecoming of you. but the gnawing feeling of being overlooked, of being relegated to the sidelines on your own girlfriend's birthday, fueled your actions.

and then, you saw it.

the shift in karina’s expression. the forced smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. the subtle clenching of her jaw. it was a fleeting moment, almost imperceptible, but you knew you'd hit a nerve.

she finished her conversation with yeji, a strained goodbye that lacked the usual warmth. then, she moved through the crowd, her eyes fixed on you, a determined glint in their depths. a strange mix of triumph and apprehension washed over you as she approached.

“can i talk to you? now?” karina’s voice was strained, barely above a whisper, but the underlying anger was unmistakable.

you looked at ningning, offering a sheepish smile. “duty calls.” you said. she just shrugged, a knowing smirk on her face as you allowed karina to pull you away, deeper into the house.

before you could say anything else, she grabbed your hand and tugged you through the throngs of celebrating friends. the music faded, replaced by the pounding of your own pulse. you followed her, your mind racing, bracing yourself for the confrontation you knew was coming.

she led you through the living room, past the overflowing snack table, and down a narrow hallway towards her bedroom. the door clicked shut behind you, plunging you into a sudden and unsettling silence. the sounds of the party were muffled, distant. you were alone, just you and karina, in the hushed intimacy of her personal space.

karina released your hand and turned to face you, crossing her arms over her chest. the playful sparkle had vanished from her eyes, replaced by a look you couldn’t quite decipher – a mixture of hurt, anger, and something else, something you couldn’t quite name. she turned to face you, her chest heaving. “what the hell was that?" she demanded, her voice trembling with barely suppressed fury.

“what was what?” you asked, feigning innocence. you knew exactly what she was talking about, but you wanted to make her say it, to acknowledge the hurt you felt.

“don’t play dumb with me, (y/n). you know exactly what i’m talking about. all that… flirting… touching… laughing… with everyone else!"

you swallowed, trying to find the right words, the right explanation for your behavior. but the truth was, you didn’t have one. not one that wouldn’t sound petty, insecure, and utterly ridiculous.

“i was just being friendly, karina. it’s a party.”

“friendly? seriously? you practically had winter and ningning fighting over you! and giselle looked like she was ready to elope with you to vegas!”

“they were just being nice.” you said, shrugging again, trying to appear nonchalant. “maybe you should try it sometime.”

the words were barely out of your mouth when you saw a flash of pure anger in her eyes. “are you serious right now? it’s my birthday! i’m trying to spend time with my friends, and you decide to pull this… this childish stunt?”

“childish? you’re the one who's been ignoring me all night! i feel like i’m invisible when i’m around you and your friends!” you retorted. the dam had broken, and the hurt and resentment you’d been trying to contain came flooding out. “you've been glued to yeji all night! i haven’t seen you smile at me once the entire evening!”

“that’s not true!” karina protested, her voice rising. “i’ve been busy! it’s my birthday, (y/n). i wanted to spend time with everyone!”

“and what about me, karina? am i not important enough?”

“of course you are! don’t be ridiculous!”

“then why haven’t you acted like it?”

the room was thick with tension. you and karina stood inches apart, chests heaving, locked in a silent battle of wills. the joyful sounds of the party outside seemed a million miles away.

“you’re being ridiculous.” she repeated, but her voice was softer now, tinged with frustration. “i can’t believe you’re acting like this.”

the accusation hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. you knew she was right. you had been acting out, seeking attention, trying to make her feel the same way you had felt – ignored and unimportant.

“and i can’t believe you made me feel like this.”

the silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. you could see the anger simmering in karina’s eyes, but beneath it, you also saw hurt, confusion, and something else… a flicker of vulnerability.

suddenly, she lunged forward, grabbing your face in her hands. her grip was tight, almost painful. you braced yourself for another barrage of angry words, but instead, her lips crashed against yours.

the kiss was hard, demanding, almost punishing in its intensity. it wasn’t a tender, loving kiss; it was an angry kiss, a frustrated kiss, a kiss born out of hurt and jealousy. her teeth grazed your lip, and her grip tightened on your face, as if trying to mold you into something that would only pay attention to her. there was no tenderness, no sweetness, just a raw, desperate need.

you didn't pull away. you didn’t resist. part of you was shocked, part of you was relieved, and part of you was… aroused. you hated that you were aroused in this moment, the anger fueling a fire within you that had no right being kindled. the taste of her was familiar, intoxicating, even in this moment of conflict.

she pulled back abruptly, her breath coming in ragged gasps. her eyes, dark and blazing, were locked on yours. “don’t you ever do that again.” she said, her voice low and dangerous. “don’t you ever try to make me jealous.”

“karina i’m so–”

“want me to show you what happens when you dare to disrespect me like that?”

she sits back on the bed, releasing your wrists only to make a show of unbuckling her own belt and unzipping her jeans. karina shoves them down her long, toned legs along with her panties, kicking them off to the side. her cock springs free, hard and thick and already leaking at the tip.

“get on your knees.” karina orders, stroking her shaft languidly. “and put that filthy mouth of yours to good use. if you do a thorough enough job, maybe i’ll consider being gentle with that bratty ass of yours later.” she smiles cruelly, fisting a hand in your hair, tangling your locks around his hand and pulling hard on them to guide you down

“open wide, baby girl. let’s see if i can fuck some respect into you.” karina growls, rubbing the swollen head of her cock against your soft, plump lips, smearing them with her arousal. she applies pressure, demanding entrance, ready to claim her lover’s mouth as thoroughly as she’s claimed every other part of her life.

karina’s grip on your hair tightens as she forces the girl's mouth open, pushing her cock past those soft, resistant lips to slide over your tongue. she lets out a low groan at the wet heat enveloping the sensitive head, her hips jerking forward to push more of her thick length inside.

“fuck, your mouth feels good, you little cock slut…” karina grunts, starting to thrust shallowly, fucking your face with short, sharp snaps of her hips.

you can’t help but moan around karina’s member as she begins to thrust her cock into your mouth, not gently but with firm and demanding movements. karina was holding a firm grip on your hair, holding your head in place and not even giving you a chance to consider it, just taking it.

“this is what you wanted, isn’t it? to have your girlfriend’s cock stretching your throat, using your mouth like the fuck hole it is?” karina pants, her hips snapping forward sharply. her cock brutally hits the back of your throat with each thrust, making you gag and sputter, but karina doesn’t care, let alone stop or try to slow down. if anything, she increases the speed even more, using your mouth as a sex toy, her own fleshlight.

karina’s other hand moves down, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to open your mouth wider, allowing her to thrust deeper. the thick, stiff length pulsed and throbbed against your tongue, the salty taste of her arousal hitting your taste buds and making you whimper against her member.

your eyes soon crystallize with tears that threatened to escape and run down your cheeks, this is thanks to the brutality of karina’s attacks and how she didn’t even seem to want to give you a break.

but even through the discomfort and the lack of air, you feel a dark thrill, a twisted enjoyment of being used so roughly, so thoroughly. you want karina to keep going, to fuck your throat raw, to claim you completely. your ignored pussy throbs with need, wetting your panties and leaving a small wet spot on your shorts, asking for karina’s attention but knowing that you won’t get what you want tonight.

“get used to the taste of my cock, because you’ll be seeing a lot more of it if you keep being such a disobedient brat.” she picks up the pace, gripping your hair tighter as she starts to really face–fuck you, balls slapping obscenely against your chin with each rough thrust. drool starts to leak from the corners of your stretched–out mouth, tears springing to your eyes from the brutal pace and force.

after long, agonizing moments, karina finally pulls out, allowing you to gasp in a desperate breath. but she doesn’t give you a chance to recover before slamming back in, setting a ruthless rhythm that has your throat bulging obscenely with each punishing thrust.

“fuck, i’m going to cum down your throat and you’re going to swallow every last drop, understand? you don’t get to waste a single bit of my seed, you hear me? drink it all like the cum–hungry slut you are.”

if you thought this couldn’t get any more humiliating, you’re wrong! she roughly grabs your hair to nod your head in agreement, not even caring how she was making you choke with her rudeness

karina’s thrusts become erratic, her grip on your hair turning painful as she rapidly approaches her peak. she hilts her throbbing cock deep in the your sore throat, grinding her pelvis against your face as the first spurts of cum shoot down your gullet.

“fuckkk! swallow it all, dirty girl–” karina cries out, her back arching as she empties her heavy balls directly into you stomach. she holds her girlfriend in place, making your gulp down spurt after spurt of her bitter, salty seed until there’s nothing left.

finally, with a shuddering groan, karina pulls out, allowing you to collapse back and gasp for air. pearls of saliva and cum drip down your chin, along with your throat working as you fights the urge to gag and choke due to the lack of air and the excessive amount of cum that filled your throat.

“look at you, covered in spit and jizz…” karina sneers, tucking her softening cock back into her jeans. she wipes the head clean with a tissue, then tosses it aside carelessly. “you’re a mess, (y/n). a filthy, cock–starved mess. that’s what you needed anyway, wasn’t it? you were craving my attention, and you got it.”

karina gets out of bed, arranging her clothes and making her state presentable, looking at her reflection in the full–length mirror next to the bed.

taking one last look in the mirror, she snapped back on her heels, heading for the door. but before leaving, she gives you a look, almost looking down on you given your disheveled state.

“make sure you get ready. happy birthday will be sung in less than ten minutes. don’t be late, or i’ll cut the cake without you.”

[returnofeternity]

cant stop thinking about adult lottie being obsessed with you, shauna's (VERY adult) kid. both because you're literally the offspring of the wilderness and because she's insanely attracted to you. mainly because of your connection to the wilderness, though.

after showing up to find out where the fuck your mom went, and after shooting her old friend in the arm, and after their old teammate died, you try to forget it all and go back to work/classes. lottie, unfortunately, cannot go after you since she's locked up again, but she's formulating a plan.

maybe once she's out of the hospital, she starts stalking you. watching you from afar, literally shaking at the power you hold. she's upset that you don't even know how much power you have. you could do so much with it. freak, perverted lottie who takes pictures of you while at work or on campus and touches the screen (aka your face) while mumbling about whatever the hell she promised It, her eyes closed and clit throbbing as she prays to It and you.

lottie still showing up on shauna's doorstep, but only to get closer to you. lottie who almost breaks when you agree with her about letting her stay with your dad and shauna, feeling her whole body tremble at your voice. not that she hasn't heard it in a while; she's quite literally been by your side without you knowing for weeks.

that whole impromptu sleepover with misty still happening, but you end up fucking lottie at the end. lottie who has to control herself when touching you, being very cautious where she puts her hickeys because she can't have shauna suspect something. lottie who begssss you to touch her, who fucking thanks you over and over again as you eat her out, moaning something about you and It. you can't really find it in yourself to really listen to what she's muttering, though, you're too distracted by her taste.

sneaking out of the house after that to meet up with lottie, feeling such a rush as you lie to shauna about where you've been. calling lottie in your bedroom while your dad and mom are talking about your sudden aggression in the kitchen, begging her to come over and show you what she really means by worshipping you.

lottie who starts scaring you when she talks about taking you to meet Her. lottie who doesn't understand why you're so apprehensive now. lottie who could nearly cream herself when you get angry at her as she talks about your purpose, telling you things you don't believe about yourself because there's such anger and power and IT in your eyes.

lottie who finally convinces you to dress up as the antler queen so she can worship you. or, scratch that actually, (but still, she'd get you to dress up) shauna who finds you and lottie making out after coming home, only crashing the fuck out after spotting jackie's necklace on you.

just. adult lottie being perverted. that's it.

[mekakitsune]

"you don't want me here? then why does your body say other wise?" jinx x fem piltover!reader - nsfw - minors dni

(requested by anon)

for as long as you can remember, your family did everything in their power to keep you from venturing into the undercity. topside was where you belonged, no doubts about it. you were polite, kindhearted and far too soft for that kind of lifestyle– or so you thought.

it wasnt until you met her, that your views changed. she showed you so much, taught things you never had the chance to know, all while being so incredibly...human?

did jinx use your piltover status against you? absolutely. when you first met, you could tell she hated you, just by seeing how you presented yourself. she made it her own personal mission to get as far under your skin as she possibly could.

"you really shouldn't be here jinx, my parents are sleeping downstairs..." you mutter as she pressed kisses along your neck, making sure she left bruises as she went. she ignored your plea, hands roaming under your shirt, making you shiver.

"then i guess you'll have to be quiet then, yeah?" she smiled deviously, hands tracing the underside of your breasts.

"jinx...im serious" you whined, voice low and slightly trembling. your parents would have both of your heads on a spike if they knew what was happening right now.

she slides herself off your hips and moves to dip her fingers into your pants, making you suck in a harsh breath of air. she smirks as her fingers trace over your underwear, relishing in the way you react to her touch.

"youre cute yknow? so sensitive..." she whispers, circling her finger around your clit through the fabric. you moan lowly, hips shifting as a silent plea for more, despite your better judgment. she seems to get the hint, and moves to slide your pants and underwear down– her eyes fixated on your now soaking cunt. feeling rather exposed, you attempt to close your legs, but shes inbetween them, and her hands grip the soft flesh as soon as she feels you hesitate.

"s'funny baby...you don't want me here? then why does your body say otherwise?"

she smirks as she runs her finger through your folds, bottom lip slipping between her teeth as she feels you soak her fingers. "practically dripping f'me" she purrs.

you whine as her fingers find your clit again, rubbing precisely where she knew would make you cry out.

"jinx.." you sigh, looking at her face to see a sinister smirk. she locks her eyes onto yours as she lowers her hand, easily slipping two fingers into you. you moan out, and before you can curse yourself her hand slaps over your mouth.

"shhh, youll wake em up, doll." she giggles, almost as if she didnt have her fingers deep inside of you. you whine against her hand as she thrusts her fingers in and out, curling them into that spot that makes your brain fuzzy. she can feel you getting close, with the way your practically dripping into her palm, and she decided she needed to make you cum, right here, right now.

her thrusts continue, the slick sound making your cheeks heat up as she works you closer to the edge. her chest is heaving softly, the sight of your like this always worked her up, not that she'd ever admit it.

"you close?" she whispers again, hand still over your mouth. you nod desperately, your sounds muffled by her palm. she picks up her pace, practically slamming her fingers into as you writhe beneath her. she groans quietly as she feels you tighten around her fingers like a vice grip, body stilling as you cum, hard.

she lets you ride it out, not stopping until your whine against her palm once more and your thighs are shaking. she removes her hand from your mouth and slams her lips onto yours, biting at your lower lip. your hands find her hips, and without warning, you flip her over so you are hovering over her form. her eyes widen at the sudden movement, a smirk growing on her lips.

"i think its only fair i get you back for that, yeah?" you lean down, face close to hers and you swear you feel her breath hitch in her lungs.

it was only fair, after all, she wanted you to cum? now its her turn.

"keep quiet, or i'll stop" you smirk as your fingers find the waist of her pants.

thank u for the req anon! more to come & feel free to leave me a prompt ;)

[rosierin]

power play | atsumu, osamu, suna

synopsis; (y/n) could've sworn "power play" meant something else. (aka she misuses it in a sentence and accidentally exposes one of atsumu's kinks)

this fic is part of the off-season quartet™ series! for more, click here :)

It was supposed to be a chill evening.

The volleyball match on TV was intense—national-level, high-stakes, and exciting enough to have the boys talking over the commentators.

Atsumu and Osamu were perched on the couch, already deep in a serious debate about serve formations. Suna lounged in his usual armchair, one leg hooked over the side, sipping from a half-empty can of Coke and muttering the occasional critique like a low-effort sports analyst.

(Y/n) sat cross-legged on the beanbag in front of them, a warm cup of tea in hand, eyes drifting between the scoreboard and the increasingly animated boys behind her.

The energy in the room buzzed—not just from the game, but from the commentary bouncing back and forth around her.

A particularly aggressive rally played out onscreen—fast, brutal, ending in a decisive spike that made Atsumu sit forward with an impressed “Oof!”

“S'about time!" he roared, throwing his arms up.

And then—completely unprompted—(y/n) turned toward Atsumu with a thoughtful crease between her brows.

“Wait—Atsumu,” she said, eyes shining with genuine curiosity. “You’re into power play, right?”

Even the world stopped to listen.

Three heads whipped toward her. At the exact same time.

Then slowly swivelled toward each other.

Then snapped back to her.

In the background, the referee's whistle could be heard.

Osamu’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline.

Suna looked like Christmas had come early.

Atsumu looked like he didn't know whether to feel immense pride or shame.

“I—I’m sorry, what?” he stammered, blinking like he’d just needed to reboot his brain.

(Y/n) blinked back, confused but earnest. “Power play? I swear you mentioned liking that once..."

Within the span of ten seconds, Atsumu went from pale, all the colour drained from his face, to a fierce shade of scarlet. The kind that crawled from the tips of his ears down to his neck. “I mean—I wouldn’t say into it, but—”

Suna was practically hanging off the edge of his seat.

Even Osamu had leaned forward, jerking his thumb towards the hallway with an impish grin. “Should we be leavin’ the room, or...?”

“I just mean,” (y/n) went on, blissfully unaware, “you’re always going on about fast-paced games and momentum shifts—so I figured power play was your thing.”

Atsumu opened his mouth. Closed it. Then opened it again.

He started putting the pieces together.

“What... do you mean by power play?” He asked cautiously.

She gestured innocently toward the screen. “You know. When one team’s got the advantage? More players at the net, tighter rotation, big swings—high pressure, high risk. Power play.”

She said it with full confidence. With absolute conviction and positively zero clue.

And that was what broke them.

Suna wheeze-laughed, slapping his hand against the couch. “Oh my god,” he gasped. “Who the hell told her that’s what it meant?!”

(Y/n) turned defensive. And frankly, a little confused. Very confused. "Nobody! As I said, i just assumed."

Osamu was doubled over. “There's no way," he said, shoving Atsumu’s shoulder. “Look at you—turnin’ beet red thinkin' she'd outed one of yer kinks."

“I thought she was callin’ me out!” Atsumu barked. “What was I supposed to do—deny it? Pretend I wasn’t into—ya know what, forget it.”

(Y/n)’s eyes went wide with creeping realisation. “Wait—kinks? I'm confused. What else does it mean, then?”

Suna, without an ounce of trepidation, smirked. “It’s a sex thing.”

(Y/n) went crimson. “Oh my god—really? No! I didn't—!”

Atsumu had officially recovered.

He grinned, teeth sharp, pride blooming now that the worst had passed. “Too late, sweetheart. It’s on record now."

Osamu was giggling. Actual giggling. Shoulders shaking like a schoolboy in sex ed.

“Oh, (y/n),” he said, wiping his eyes. “Bless yer little heart.”

“I swear I didn’t know!” she groaned, smacking a pillow into her own face. “I was talking about volleyball!”

“And yet,” Suna said, gesturing toward Atsumu like he was presenting a rare species, “you managed to expose this degenerate without even trying.”

"He's right," Osamu chimed in, eyebrows raised thoughtfully. "She said ya mentioned it to her once."

He tutted. "Ya filthy, filthy pervert."

The grin finally slipped off Atsumu’s face, replaced with something halfway between wounded pride and defensive panic.

“Okay, first of all,” he said, holding up a finger. “You all have your weird little kinks. Don’t act like I’m the only one.”

Nobody denied it.

And (y/n) cursed herself for noticing.

Her eyes flicked to Osamu—stoic, unfazed, arms crossed—and then to Suna, who just sipped his drink with that same old unreadable expression.

...Somehow that made things worse.

Her brain, against her will, began to spiral. Did she even want to know?

No. Probably not. Definitely not. But maybe...

God, her imagination was already filling in the blanks—

“(Y/n).”

Atsumu’s voice cut through her thoughts, and when she looked up, he was wearing that infuriatingly smug grin.

“If ya ever wanna talk strategy,” he said, all faux innocence. “Volleyball strategy, of course.”

He winked.

“Ya know where to find me.”

The boys howled.

(Y/n) groaned, dragging her hands down her face. “Don’t start.”

[lullabyforbears]

I think another factor that really wasn't really addressed in the episode was that Applejack didn't just come on like a hammer because that's how she always is. She was very hesitant to do this in the first place and had to be flattered like mad, talk herself into it and help out Applebloom before she could even think about being candid about her fashion opinions, and was taking all her cues off Rarity. Like it was Rarity who was affirming her behavior right up until the point of major disaster, and building her up to the point of undeserved hubris. Like, it's not Applejack being a bad person, it's her being naturally prone to pride and being emboldened by Rarity's nepotism and enabling, and when she was confronted about it she got frustrated because fashion is something she just doesn't understand and before she hit the point of "fashion is ridiculous." Like there were so many stops along the way where Applejack could have course corrected, or BEEN corrected but Rarity, who she trusts as a fashion authority, told her she was all good. Like? If it feels out of character, it's because it isn't common that she's ever encouraged to get that out of line, but she legit thought she was just doing what Rarity wanted her to do- critique the designs for practicality in her blunt no nonsense way, and heaven knows she feels being too eager to please is one of her big character flaws. We saw a kind of ugly side of Applejack in that episode, but it wasn't necessarily an out of character one given the kind of monsters chronic nepotism creates and her predisposition to getting full of herself if the right ponies flatter her.

The way the Brony fandom reacted to Applejack's behavior in Honest Apple will always astound me. So many people thought that she was grossly out of character for how she acted, as if we didn't have an episode 3 seasons prior where she had a whole musical number that was basically her telling Fluttershy "I don't care if you're the animal expert. We're gonna deal with the bats the way I wanna deal with them."

Stop The Bats was essentially "It's My Way or the Highway: The Song." You would think with how much people gushed over that musical number back in the day that they would pay attention to what the song was actually saying, and what that says about AJ's character.

But nah. Honest Apple was "character assassination." I remember people thought I was crazy when I said it was the best episode of Season 7, but I'll stand ten toes down on that. It's the best season 7 episode and the best AJ episode, period.

[littlelovelunette]

Please can u write another succubus demon x Sevika?😍 but maybe this time the succubus demon only seduces women🤭 and when she saw Sevika she immediately targeted her but she didn’t use her powers/charm on her because she wanna know if Sevika would be attracted to her even without powers/charm

Different Kind Of Attraction

Sevika x Succubus!Reader

SUMMARY: You're a succubus, and only prey on women, women who're strong and independent like Sevika herself. Sevika was playing poker as per the usual at last drop, and when it was too late into the night— the game wraps up. As Sevika is about to leave the bar, she sees you; a gorgeous woman dressed in a provocative outfit bound to fall victim to any man with lewd intentions so she offers to walk you home. But Janna, did she never stop to think you'd have an effect on her.

Mild Predator-Prey, smoking, gambling, slight slow burn, possible stalker!Reader, cliff hanger ending.

You've been watching her for a while now. Sevika, Silco's henchwoman, his right-hand woman. The scary lady of Zaun. A slow smirk crept on your dark glossy lips. You loved yourself a good challenge of a woman. One might assume your species only targeted men but that wasn't true. Some of you targeted women like Sevika. Women who knew how to carry themselves, who were independent and powerful. That was the kind of woman that got your panties in a twist.

The bar was rowdy. Far too rowdy for your liking so you were hidden away at a far corner, nursing your whiskey as you continued to peer over the edge of your shades, staring intently at the woman whose gambling addiction truly knew no bounds. You sighed, something about her stirred an unusual feeling inside you. The feeling of not wanting to rely on your powers for seducing her, making her yours, charming her. Claiming her.

"Sevika," you tested the name on your tongue, savoring each vowel.

Sevika, who was indulged into another intense round of poker, straightened and looked around the bar. She had gotten goosebumps when you mouthed her name.

"You good?" One of the players asked, cocking a brow and clinking his bottle of booze against the cup, pouring himself another day of mindless poker although he knew better than to challenge Sevika's skills. They lost every game to her anyway.

"Y...Yeah."

Sevika shook her head, lighting her cigarillo and taking a good inhale of the smoke, lungs protesting feebly as she exhaled it through her nose, taking another look around the bar with squinted eyes. What a weird feeling, she hadn't felt like this since... Since ever. She'd always been the one who towered over others, never the other way around. She'd never felt like... She needed to watch out for some sort of predator.

It was one in the morning when Sevika decided she was way to drunk to finish another round of poker so she slammed her hand on the table drunkenly, rattling the cups and bottles that rested over the tabletop.

"Let's call it a night," she said in a raspy voice, "Cash me out!"

The men fumbled with tight bundles of cash and pounchfuls of coins, scrambling to pay Sevika for her several victorious rounds of poker. They didn't look all that happy, yet the kept their gazes averted. You got up, zipping down the turtle neck top slightly only so that your cleavage was on display. You sauntered over to where Sevika was waiting at the table, grinning at the piling cash and coins. She glanced at you when you came by her side and stood there. "You new here? Never seen you before." Sevika asked, arms crossing beneath her poncho.

You nodded simply and placed your hands on the table edge, leaning to peer at the cash, trying to make out an estimate of her winnings. "That's quite a lot of money."

"Yeah," Sevika chuckled, eyes lingering on your curvy behind. "That's quite the nice body. And too late of a night for you to get back home alone lookin' like a snack."

"Are you hitting on me but also implying I can't protect myself?" You grinned a little.

"Just lookin' out for a pretty woman," she picked up the small sack of her winnings.

"My, my, what a gentlewoman." You gave her a smirk, straightening and flattening the hem of your dress. "Are you suggesting you'd rather walk me home?"

"Quite so."

Sevika walked to the door of Last Drop, opening it and nodding her head as a gesture for you to step out. You did so, purse slinging from your shoulder as you walked in the chilly Zaun night with Sevika by your side. Her shoulders were tense as if she was expecting trouble to pop out of every alley possible.

"Why so upright? I'm no celebrity," you giggled.

"Sorry, force of habit with Silco." Sevika grumbled, possibly a little embarrassed as she rubbed the back of her neck.

"That's okay," you interlaced your fingers within her hand's making Sevika's eyes widen slightly, glancing down where both your hands met. "You're drunk, yet you decided to walk me home. I'm grateful." You said as you continued walking by her side.

Sevika seemed like her brain had short-circuited when you held her hand. She stammered with her words in her head and only managed a small "no problem". The air was chilly, fog in the distance as you both walked. Your home wasn't too far away, but when you reached the door of your apartment, a light drizzle of rain started.

"Oh crap." You turned and pulled Sevika under the threshold of your apartment, "You'll get drenched in the rain if you go now."

"It's fine, I don't wanna be a bother—" Sevika began and made a walk back out into the drizzling downpour.

"Nonsense! You walked me home!" You grabbed her arm and stopped her.

"And?" Sevika asked curtly.

"And you'll stay the night!—" you said but she cut you off.

"But—" Sevika started.

"I insist," you said with such emphasis Sevika had no rebuttal for a minute, you took advantage of that and pulled her in with a firm grip of both hands on her flesh arm.

She walked into the small apartment, glancing around the dimly lit living room as you guided her to the couch, helping her take her poncho off. The house smelled like roses and champagne, Sevika sunk down onto the couch. She was so tall, and bulky it made most your furniture look comedically tiny. But it wasn't all that exaggerated and she didn't seem to mind.

"You gamble often?" You asked, knowing better yourself, yet for the sake of conversation.

"Yeah, it's a good source of income especially when drunken bastards love to put their money out on a golden plate for ya'." She chuckled, a little shocked when she saw you pulling out a lighter from the drawer and the exact brand of cigarillos she smoked.

You put the items down on the coffee table and walked to the kitchenette, "You usually stay up past 12?"

Sevika wasn't listening, eyes focused on the branded cigarillos, "How did you—?"

"It's impolite to ignore a direct question," you giggled, tone so sweet it could give one sugar rush, "I just... Happen to use the same brand, I suppose."

"Oh," Sevika looked at you for a second before looking back at the lighter you so graciously offered, "Yeah, I do stay up past 12 often."

"That's not good," you hummed as you walked around the kitchen, cooking.

Sevika grumbled something under her breath, probably a snarky comment on your caring attitude, her fingers wrapping around the lighter and examining it. She half-expected it to be a trap but after she didn't notice any loopholes, she took one cigarillo out, lighting it. Sevika took a deep inhale, leaning her back against the couch making it creak slightly in protest, "You don't really have to cook," she mumbled.

You weren't listening, your hand was a little shaky from maintaing your human form for so long. Your heart thudded loudly against your chest, and your heartbeat rang in your ears as you grabbed the skillet tighter. You struggled to focus on the meat you were frying, sweat beading at your brow.

"You okay?" Sevika asked and you turned, alarmed by her sudden voice.

The container of salt that rested on the countertop innocently toppled over the edge and the glass shattered on the floor. You winced at the loud sound, "Sorry," you turned the heat down, putting the spatula down in a hurry, "Be right back." You left and locked yourself in the bedroom.

"Dear Janna," Sevika mumbled, shaking her head. With the cigarillo between her lips, she walked into the kitchenette area, examining the mess you created in a haste.

"Please, just calm down," you told yourself.

You didn't want Sevika knowing you were a succubus but you felt your tail creeping under the skirt of your dress, horns protruding on the top of your head through the silky locks of hair you had brushed before deciding to present yourself to the woman. You didn't want to take advantage or feed off of her. You just wanted her. Was it such a crime to crave love as a Succubus? No, don't answer that. That was a rhetorical question.

"Are you okay?" Sevika knocked on the door, startling you once again.

"Yeah, I'll be back in a minute," you answered in a shaky voice.

You walked upto the big mirror in the room, taking a few deep breaths and closing your eyes. All you needed to do was calm down, breathe normal and act human. But how could you when Sevika's mere presence under the same roof as you caused your panties to dampen and mouth to itch? You groaned slightly, but managed to compose yourself in record time.

The door creaked open, and the scent of perfectly cooked chicken hit your nostrils, Sevika was standing in front of the skillet, effortlessly turning the meat on its surface using the spatula. The salt that was sprinkled all over the floor was also tidied up. Your eyes widened slightly in astonishment as you walked towards her.

"You can cook?" You asked in a voice that would suggest you were playfully shocked.

Sevika gave you a side glance, smirking, "You sound surprised."

You grinned and leaned against the kitchen counter opposite her, watching her loosen up in the environment of your small apartment was starting to grow on you. You really wanted her to be yours. Desperately so, too.

"I know what you are."

Part 2?

[altades]

Alternitive Universe Eve I think she'd be the paralyzed eve from S2, but she rebuild herself when mark was visiting and used his body to gain viltrumite powers. Might also brainwash him to use against omniman later (mark can heal from losing half his body weight right?)

She isn't evil she's just crashing out cuz mark destroyed her world, killed most of her friends and then paralyzed her so she just has to sit there and watch it happen everyday - which yeah made her a little unhinged but that's understandable

It broke her to the point that her mental blocks give out - letting her use her powers to the fullest extent, fighting mark and winning. She almost dies too but uses marks body to rebuild herself (she eats all his limbs😔)

Some sympathizing doctors hide her and Mark - cuz of course he can't just die and leave her alone - and the doctors couldn't kill him. But Eve, realizing she'll probably need help to stop Omniman wants to try to brainwash Mark the way she did in her backstory

Mark wakes up later, still fucked up completely, wanting to kill eve, but bro got no limbs so thats not going to work lol. She tries to erase his memories and put in mental blocks like she had so he can't kill (or disobey her). It doesn't work at first,

But cuz this mark is... Insanely obsessed with her he eventually gives in. So he gets put in a tube to regenerate. 

Eve stats a rebellion - probably with the help of dinosaurus - assembling all heroes who are still alive to kill nolan

It goes as well as you'd expect - nolan is almost impossible to kill, so they use the "the son you thought died because of your incompetence is actually alive and he's brainwashed to hate you :3" mental nuke to get him unstable enough and beaten down enough for eve to control him

So with both evil graysons now under control they start rebuilding. Alan shows up, Eve gets him to help her rebuild earth. They fight Thragg, find out mark is the fucking emperor (cuz OF COURSE he is), the viltrumites execute Thragg (eve isn't taking any chances)

I also think it would be an interesting position for eve to be in - even though SHE saved earth, SHE went up against the viltrume empire, SHE is the good guy Mark still gets to be the main character SOMEHOW. 

And that motherfucker is still weirdly obsessed with her😭😭😭

Also i think she'd get together with Rex - they lead the rebellion together (kind of. He was her emotional support) And Mark is very jealous. 

Maybe Eve could get an heir from Mark - a child she can raise to be the new emperor, and who will be a good one. Just to add to the drama

Mark also regains his memories at some point - he even changes for the better, but he's still a weird non-human freak with little empathy. He's also weaker cuz all his limbs are not fully viltrumite.

The robot parts are there to keep her body from shifting too much - since the mental blocks are gone. But she can basically shapeshift and heal immediately - as long as she's not worn out or insta-killed she's practically unstoppable.

I also think she can’t immediately kill viltrumites cuz their body is so dense it's like moving mountains. But she's strong enough to fuck them up.  Thinking too much about her becoming Evevincible and saving the universe and all that