#theme challenge: ff

[bardic-tales]

Introduction, a FF 7 / FWC AU fic

Summary: Bianca reunites with Sephiroth at the edge of annihilation, and together, they vow to remake existence in their divine image.

Pairing: Bianca Moore (f!OC) / Sephiroth

Other Characters: Jenova (mentioned), Planetary Defenders

Possible Trigger Warnings: Abuse, blood, body horror, canon-typical violence, cult-like devotion, delusions of godhood, grief, madness, mental instability, obsessive love, past medical experimentation, psychological trauma, religious imagery, self-harm (implied), torture (referenced), violence

The Planet did not whisper their names. It screamed them.

Night bent around the crater’s jagged rim, clutching at the wind as it screamed across a dead expanse of shattered stone. A storm of mako-tinged mist curled at Bianca’s ankles like restless phantoms, yet it wasn’t the ghosts of the Planet she listened for. It was him.

And she felt him before she saw him. Of course she did.

The red thread of fate burned against her wrist. It was alive, writhing, and thrumming with divine resonance. Then he was there. He emerged from the mist like a god descending from myth. Masamune gleamed in his hand. Its edge already stained with the blood of a world that dared to forget him.

"Bianca," Sephiroth said, low and reverent. His voice cut through the night like prophecy fulfilled.

She turned. Her wings rustled behind her. Ebony feathers glinted with purple, twitching slightly with the residual tension that never quite left her body. The black leather of her coat flared behind her as she moved, as her boots crushed the snow and dirt beneath. Her indigo, feline-like eyes locked onto his Mako-blazing gaze, and for a moment, the world narrowed to only them.

“You’re late,” she said, fangs peeking as she smiled like a predator. “I was beginning to think Meteor beat you here.”

A ghost of a smirk tugged at his mouth. It was just enough to crack the austere perfection of his expression.

“I was attending to your welcome,” Sephiroth murmured. His gaze trailing over her like a ritual blade.

Bianca stepped toward him without hesitation, and the air thickened between them, heavy with power, memory, blood. Her hand rose, fingers brushing the silver-lined spaulder on his shoulder. The metal was cold. Like him. Like her.

“I thought maybe you wouldn’t come back to me,” she admitted, not soft, not pleading. Just honest. A crack in the thunderclouds of her psyche. “I thought that maybe the Planet had you, like it had the others.”

"Oh, Bianca." His gloved hand rose, cupping her jaw with an intimacy only he could wield like a weapon. “The Lifestream? A prison. My will is stronger." His thumb traced her lower lip, a motion laced with reverence and possession.

Her throat tightened.

She wanted to cry, and she never cried. Not since Hojo. Not since Diana and the cold table and the skin she had to regrow like a phoenix with ash still burning in her lungs that very first time. But here Sephiroth was, speaking her name like gospel, and she remembered why she had followed him into the end of all things.

Because he remembered her when no one else did. Because he saw her before the fall. Because he had once said, “You are not broken, Bianca. You are divine. We and Mother are. Pain and fury are the only way forward.”

The aching, bright red thread shimmered again, wrapping itself around their wrists in a heart-shaped glow that pulsed like a shared heartbeat. She could feel his pain like it was her own—raw, buried, and utterly untouchable by mortals—and she welcomed it. She let it sear her veins, because his agony was sacred. It was the language of gods, the only language that she now understood.

“I missed the way you say my name,” she whispered.

“And I missed the way you bled for it,” he answered.

Their kiss wasn’t tender. It was violent. Teeth. Fangs. Tongue. Her blood-red nails dug into the back of his neck beneath his hair which shone like quicksilver. His grip was bruising with his hand fisted in her black waves, tugging at the white ribbon that fluttered like a surrender flag. She tasted mako and ozone and madness, but most importantly, him. The him she gave up sanity to follow.

They broke apart only because the air between them threatened combustion.

Behind him, the mist parted, cracking open by the silent arrival of a dark star hanging above the crater, as the world descended into orange light.

Meteor, she thought. Still far, still small, but closer now than ever. And oh, how beautiful destruction looked when framed behind his silhouette.

“Do you feel it?” he asked, voice dropping to a low hum as he stared into the cosmos with eyes resembling cold, ancient fire.

“I do,” she murmured, moving to his side, Noctemaris materializing in her hand with a high-pitched shriek of splitting dimensions. The blade pulsed in her palm: hungry and restless.

“Soon, Bia, the Planet will scream its last breath,” Sephiroth said, his tone as calm as falling snow. “And we will ride its husk across the void until the Promised Land bends to us. This is not annihilation. It is rebirth.”

Bianca's gaze locked on his profile. Every edge of him was sharp, glorious, and godhood incarnate.

“You always did have a way with poetry since your resurrection,” she muttered, cracking her neck. “But don’t forget. You’re not doing this alone anymore.”

His head tilted. “You are the other half of my soul. The mother of divine corruption,” he intoned. “Together, we shall tear open the womb of existence and plant a new star within its corpse.”

Bianca shivered, not from fear, but from the certainty that this was exactly where she belonged.

Far above and beyond mortal comprehension, A crack split the sky, and the stars shuddered. Something was coming. Something other. Another world colliding.

She looked at Sephiroth. He already knew.

"Other dimensions are collapsing into ours,” she said, her wings twitching with tension. “Something's bleeding through. Different worlds will soon converge into this one before they split apart once again.”

“And they will try to stop us,” he said with a smirk.

Bianca turned her head slightly, catching his smirk and matching it with one of her own. “They’ll fail. Like they always do.”

“No, Bianca,” Sephiroth corrected, gently, his hand once again finding her jaw, lifting her face to meet his. “They will kneel.”

She grinned. Jenova whispered chaotic hymns in an ancient tongue in her veins, and Noctemaris hummed like a thing alive.

In that moment, wrapped in his presence, in his 'Chosen One' prophecy, Bianca remembered exactly why she had clawed her way through space and time and death itself: not for salvation. Not for revenge. But to introduce the multiverse to the only love that had ever made sense: Him.

@themaradwrites @shepardstales @megandaisy9 @watermeezer

@prehistoric-creatures @creativechaosqueen @chickensarentcheap

@inkandimpressions @arrthurpendragon @projecthypocrisy @serenofroses

[truly-morgan]

Fandom: モブサイコ100 | Mob Psycho 100 Rating: Mature Relationships: Dimple/Kageyama "Mob" Shigeo Additional Tags: ekumob week 2024, Alternate Universe - Religious, Religious Guilt, Temptation Chapters: 1/1 [3.2k words] Series: Part 4 of EkuMob week 2024

Summary:

“Shigeo is but a humble priest trying to tend to the small village church he grew up around. His mentor, Father Reigen, is out of town for a couple of weeks due to family issues and he is left alone to care for the old building and the people that come to it.

It should be an easy enough job, he has helped his mentor more than once in the past.

A new man in town suddenly makes it all difficult to do, especially when he stirs things inside of Shigeo.”

[heesvnqie]

Against The Door- Yang Jungwon

pairing: yang jungwon x reader genre: enemies to lovers, smut warnings: explicit sexual content,unprotected sex (wrap it up irl!), oral (m & f receiving), rough intimacy, overstimulation, possessive themes word count: 2k a/n: Since y'all loved the Sunghoon one, a jungwon one for my won girls! Make sure to follow, lots of ffs coming actively!

The first time you met Yang Jungwon, you wanted to wipe the smug grin off his face. It was freshman orientation at Seoul National University, and he was already the center of attention—lean frame, sharp jawline, dark hair falling just messy enough to look intentional, and eyes that sparkled with a mischief that screamed trouble. He stood on the auditorium stage, delivering a speech as the newly elected student council rep, his voice smooth as silk, every word calculated to charm.

You were in the crowd, arms crossed, unimpressed by the way everyone hung on his every syllable like he was some prodigy. When he caught your eye, mid-sentence, his lips twitched into a smirk, like he knew you weren’t buying his act. That was the moment you decided you hated him.

By the end of the first semester, your hatred was a living thing, fed by every infuriating encounter. Jungwon was everywhere, a constant thorn in your side.

In debate club, he’d challenge your arguments with a lazy drawl, leaning back in his chair, one eyebrow raised like he was humoring you. “Nice try, Y/N, but you’re reaching,” he’d say, his voice dripping with condescension, while his eyes lingered on you a beat too long, something darker flickering beneath the taunt.

You’d fire back, your words sharp, your glare sharper, but he’d just laugh, low and mocking, his fingers brushing yours when he passed you a pen, the contact deliberate, leaving your skin buzzing with something you refused to name.

In the library, he’d appear like a curse, sliding into the seat across from you without asking, his books spilling over your carefully organized notes. “You’re in my spot,” you’d snap, shoving his stuff aside, but he’d lean closer, his knee grazing yours under the table, his cologne invading your space.

“Relax, Y/N, plenty of room for both of us,” he’d murmur, his voice a tease, his gaze flicking to your lips before he’d flash that infuriating smirk.

You’d grit your teeth, ignoring the heat creeping up your neck, muttering, “Fuck off, Jungwon,” while he chuckled, his hand lingering on the table, fingers twitching like he wanted to reach for you.

The worst was the campus café, where he’d saunter in, all swagger and charm, flirting shamelessly with the girls who swooned over him. He’d catch you watching, his eyes glinting as he called out,

“You look tense, Y/N. Need me to make time for you? Want me to order for you?” The way he said your name—slow, deliberate, like he was tasting it—made your stomach flip, but you’d roll your eyes, snapping, “I’d rather starve.”

He’d laugh, brushing past you to leave, his shoulder grazing yours, his hand “accidentally” skimming your lower back, the touch sending a jolt through you that you hated yourself for feeling.

By your second year, your rivalry was campus legend. Everyone knew you and Jungwon were fire and gasoline, always one spark away from combustion.

Debate club meetings were spectacles—your arguments crackling with intensity, his retorts laced with a flirty edge that made the room shift uncomfortably.

“You’re passionate, I’ll give you that,” he’d say, leaning across the table, his face inches from yours, his voice low enough to feel intimate. “But you’re wrong.”

You’d glare, your heart pounding, your hands itching to either slap him or pull him closer, the line between hate and want blurring with every taunt.

No one saw the way he’d linger after those meetings, waiting until the room cleared to corner you, his body too close, his hands too bold. Once, he’d grabbed your wrist to stop you from storming out, his grip firm, his thumb pressing into your pulse point.

“Why do you always look like you want to kill me?” he’d asked, his voice teasing but rough, his eyes searching yours.

“Because I do,” you’d hissed, yanking free, but his touch burned, and you’d spent the night replaying it, your body thrumming with a need you couldn’t shake.

You’d never admit how he haunted you—how his smirk crept into your dreams, how your skin prickled when he got too close, how your thighs clenched when he whispered some snide remark in your ear. He was your enemy, your rival, the bane of your existence, but every time he touched you—too often, too deliberately—it felt like a promise, one you were terrified to acknowledge.

The tension with Jungwon wasn’t just a spark—it was a live wire, crackling every time you were in the same room. By your third year, it was unbearable, a constant hum under your skin that you couldn’t ignore. Every debate club meeting was a performance, your arguments slicing through the air like knives, his retorts sharp and laced with that infuriating flirty edge that made your blood boil and your pulse race.

He’d lean across the table, his voice low, his eyes locked on yours, saying things like, “You’re cute when you’re wrong, Y/N,” his smirk daring you to snap. You’d fire back, your voice steady but your heart pounding, your body betraying you with every glance at his sharp jawline, the way his fingers flexed around his pen, the way his lips curved like he knew exactly what you were thinking.

Outside the club, he was worse—always finding ways to invade your space, to push your buttons.

In the library, he’d slide into your study nook, his books crowding your notes, his knee brushing yours under the table, lingering just long enough to make you flush. “You’re too tense, Y/N,” he’d murmur, his voice a tease, his fingers “accidentally” grazing your thigh as he reached for a pencil. “Need me to help you relax?”

You’d shove his hand away, muttering, “Keep your hands to yourself, Jungwon,” but the heat in your cheeks and the ache between your thighs told a different story.

The campus café was his playground, where he’d flirt with every damn pick-me, according to you.

“You’re staring,” he’d call out, sauntering over, his shoulder brushing yours as he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. “Jealous, Y/N? I can make time for you too.”

You’d scoff, rolling your eyes, but his hand would linger on your lower back as he walked away, the touch burning through your sweater, leaving you restless and wanting.

It wasn’t just the touches—deliberate, too frequent, too bold—it was the way he looked at you, like he could see every secret you were hiding, every pulse of desire you refused to name.

You hated him, hated the way he made you feel out of control, hated how your dreams were filled with his smirk, his hands, his voice whispering your name. But the truth was undeniable: Yang Jungwon was under your skin, and no amount of hate could drown out the want.

You swear you could have killed when your professor, with a twisted sense of humor, paired you and Jungwon for a critical group project due in two days.

The assignment was a beast—data analysis, a 20-page report, and a presentation—and the rest of your group had flaked, leaving you two to carry the weight.

You’d argued for hours over where to work, your voices sharp in the lecture hall, until Jungwon, with that infuriating smirk, said, “My place. Tonight. Unless you’re scared to be alone with me, Y/N.”

The challenge in his eyes, the way his voice dipped low, made your stomach flip, but you’d scoffed, refusing to let him win. “Fine,” you’d snapped, “but keep your ego in check.”

His house was off-campus, a sleek, modern apartment his parents paid for, a far cry from your cramped dorm.

When you arrived at 9 p.m., the night air cool against your skin, you were already on edge, your bag heavy with books and your nerves frayed from the thought of being in his space.

Jungwon opened the door, leaning against the frame, his hair damp from a shower, wearing a fitted black t-shirt and gray sweats that hung low on his hips. His eyes raked over you—tight flared pants, a cropped hoodie showing a sliver of midriff—and his smirk widened, his gaze lingering too long.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice teasing, but there was a roughness to it, like he was fighting to keep his hands to himself.

“Traffic,” you mumbled, slipping past Jungwon, trying to ignore the way his shoulder brushed yours. His apartment was sleek—dark wood floors, minimalist furniture, a large window with the city’s lights twinkling outside—but it felt too much like him, sharp and intense, making your nerves jangle.

The living room had a coffee table set up with his laptop, scattered notes, and two mugs of coffee, steam curling lazily. “Let’s just… get this done,” you said, voice soft, dropping your bag, but he was already behind you, his hand grazing your lower back as he guided you to the couch, the touch sending a shiver through you.

“Relax, Y/N,” he said, his voice low, teasing, his fingers lingering a moment too long, making your skin tingle. “We’ve got all night.” The way he said it—slow, almost suggestive—made your stomach flutter, and you nodded, avoiding his eyes, sitting on the edge of the couch to keep some distance.

He chuckled, settling next to you, his knee brushing yours, the warmth of his thigh through your jeans making you shift uncomfortably, your pulse already unsteady.

For a while, you managed to work, your voice quieter than usual as you discussed data sets, his responses sharp but laced with that flirty edge that always threw you off.

“You’re missing the point,” he said, grabbing the laptop from your lap, his fingers brushing your thigh, the contact sending a spark through you.

“Y/N, focus, yeah?” His tone was teasing, but his eyes were darker, and as he leaned back, spreading his legs slightly, you noticed it—the hard bulge straining against his gray sweats, so obvious it stole your breath.

Your eyes widened, your heart stuttering, and a hot wave of arousal washed over you, your thighs pressing together as your body betrayed you, your cheeks burning. You couldn’t look away, the outline of his cock so clear, thick and rigid, making your head spin, your core aching instantly.

“Y/N?” His voice snapped you out of it, and you jerked your gaze up, meeting his smirk, his eyes glinting like he knew exactly what you’d seen.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low, mocking, his knee nudging yours again, and you felt the heat of him, the way his boner shifted slightly as he adjusted, pressing against the fabric.

Your mouth went dry, your hands trembling, and you felt weak, your body humming with want, your panties already damp from the sight alone.

“I—um, yeah,” you stammered, reaching for the laptop, but your hand shook, and he caught your wrist, his grip gentle but firm, his thumb brushing your pulse, which was racing.

He pulled you closer, his other hand sliding to your waist, his fingers warm against your skin through your cropped hoodie, and you froze, feeling his erection press against your thigh, hard and unyielding.

A soft whimper escaped you, your body melting, your thighs clenching as the sensation sent a jolt straight to your core, your arousal spiking. You were practically sitting on his lap.

“You sure?” he murmured, his voice rough, his lips brushing your ear, his breath hot, making you shiver. “You look… distracted.” His hand tightened on your waist, his cock twitching against you, and you gasped, your hands clutching his shirt, your body trembling with need. The feel of him—so hard, so ready—made you dizzy, your resolve crumbling, your hate for him drowned out by the overwhelming want pulsing through you.

“Jungwon,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, shaky, as his hand slid under your hoodie, his fingers tracing your bare skin, inching toward your bra. His touch was bold, deliberate, and you couldn’t think, couldn’t move, your body weak under the weight of his gaze, his arousal pressed against you, driving you wild. “I—I didn’t mean to…” You trailed off, your cheeks flushed, unable to form words, the sight of his boner still burned into your mind, making your core throb.

“Didn’t mean to what?” he teased, his lips brushing your jaw, his hand pulling you closer, his cock pressing harder against your thigh, the friction making you bite your lip to stifle a moan. “Didn’t mean to stare? Didn’t mean to get so wet just looking at me?” His voice was filthy, his fingers slipping under your bra, teasing your nipple, and you whimpered, your head falling back, your body arching into him, helpless against the heat of him.

He groaned, low and primal, his control fraying as he pushed you back, your body hitting the door with a soft thud, his hands pinning you there.

His lips crashed into yours, the kiss desperate, messy, all tongue and teeth, years of hate and want pouring out. He tasted like coffee and mint, and you kissed him back, clumsy but hungry, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, the feel of his boner against your hip making you moan into his mouth.

Your thighs clenched, your panties soaked, the hard press of his cock sending sparks through you with every shift.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he growled, pulling back to look at you, your hoodie half-off, your bra pushed up, your chest heaving.

His eyes were wild, raking over you, and he ground against you, his erection so hard it made you whimper, your body trembling with need. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he said, his voice rough, his hands tearing at your jeans, yanking them down with your panties, the cool air hitting your skin making you gasp. His fingers found you, slick and ready, and he groaned, low and filthy, his cock twitching against you as he felt how wet you were.

“Jungwon,” you moaned, your voice shaky, your hands clutching his shoulders as his fingers slid inside you, two at first, curling just right, making your hips buck.

The feel of his boner, still pressed against your thigh, drove you insane—every pulse, every twitch made you ache for him, your body weak with want. “Please…” you whispered, your head spinning, your body melting into his touch.

“Please what?” he teased, his lips on your neck, sucking hard, leaving marks you’d have to hide. His fingers pumped faster, his thumb circling your clit, and you cried out, your legs shaking, your body overwhelmed.

“Want me to fuck you? Want me to make you come?” His voice was dirty, his cock pressing harder, and you nodded, frantic, your arousal dripping down your thighs, your body his to command.

He pulled his fingers out, licking them clean with a groan that made your core clench. He shoved his sweats down, his cock springing free—thick, hard, and so ready it made you whimper, your thighs trembling at the sight. His eyes were locked on yours. He then grabbed your hips, lifting you slightly against the door, your legs wrapping around his waist, your body weak and pliant.

“Ready for me?” he growled, his tip teasing your entrance, and you moaned, nodding, your hands pulling at his shirt, desperate. He slammed into you, filling you so deep you cried out, the stretch intense, the feel of his cock overwhelming, making your body shake.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his hands bruising your hips, his thrusts hard and fast, the door rattling with every snap, the sound of skin on skin filling the room.

“Jungwon,” you gasped, your nails digging into his back, your body trembling as he fucked you against the door, each thrust hitting deep, his cock so hard it made you see stars.

The friction of him, thick and pulsing inside you, drove you wild, your arousal coating him, your moans broken and needy. His hand slid to your clit, rubbing fast, and you were gone, your body convulsing, your orgasm hitting so hard you screamed, your walls clenching around him, your legs shaking.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, his thrusts erratic, his grip tightening as he chased his own release, the feel of you pushing him over. He buried himself deep, his cock pulsing as he came, his groans raw, his lips on your neck, biting gently as he rode it out.

You stayed there, pressed against the door, panting, his body still inside you, his hands softening, tracing your hips, your thighs, like he couldn’t let go.

He pulled back, his eyes meeting yours, softer now, a flicker of something new—vulnerability, maybe, or just the weight of what you’d done. “We’re not enemies anymore,” he murmured, his voice low, his lips brushing your shoulder, gentle, almost tender.

You nodded, still catching your breath, your body humming, weak from him. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice shaky, a small smile tugging at your lips. “But I’m not… I’m not done with you.” His eyes darkened, a grin spreading, and he kissed you again, slow and deep, his hands already wandering, ready for more.

"Aren't you so dirty for doing this?" You chuckled.

"We are. For doing it against the door." Jungwon smirked.

Taglist:-

@slutofpsh

@laurenalpha123

@dreamiestay

@amortenha

@peonywon

@mitmit01

@heeevangelizesme

@gvni-eve

@yourmomni

@leov3rse

@punchbug9-blog

@heesvnqie | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

[sungbeam]

ACTION FIGURES — KPOP FF COLLAB CALL

SAVE THE WORLD? □ yes □ no ⌧ what's in it for me?

the universe is as brutal as it is vast. when forces threaten to disturb its peace, those who rise to the challenge might become our greatest saviors or our most damning martyrs. they are the chosen ones—even if they never wanted to be.

THEME: superheroes—whether they're inspired by the iconic comic books or they're created entirely by you—we want their story. (also completely acceptable: vigilantes, anti-heroes, supervillains.)

RULES & GUIDELINES:

☆ idol x reader or idol x oc only; no idol x idol pairings

☆ nsfw works are allowed as long as you are 18+

☆ there is no min or max word count, and writers for all kpop groups are welcome!

☆ series (both written and social media) are also allowed as long as all installments are posted by the deadline

☆ do not romanticize themes such as rxpe, pxdophilia, and sxicide; any fics violating the guidelines listed will not be included in the final masterlist post

☆ side note: you can write multiple things for this if you'd like/are able to!

☆ all announcements regarding this collab will be posted here on my blog, @sungbeam! but i'm considering opening a discord server that you can vote for in the sign up form :]

DEADLINE: 01 september 2025 post your completed work between now and sept 1st with #action figures collab and also tag me!

ANSWER THE CALL: SIGN UP HERE to feature in our action figures collection!

**please boost!!

[daichiduskdrop]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚⋆·˚ ༘ *𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

CHAPTER 00 - PROLOGUE

Pairing: BTS Ot7 X fem! reader

Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Angst, Strangers to lovers, (might do smut in the future)

Warnings: loneliness, anxiety, indicated sa (hardly mentioned at all)

AN.: Hello everyone! This is pretty much my first time writing a FF, and English isn't my first language, so please be patient with me :)

If you enjoy this story, please let me know and I'll continue it. Don't hesitate if you have anything to say, I'm always looking for good advice. Please take care of yourself :))

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ੈ✩‧₊˚✧˚ · .*ੈ✩‧₊˚

It was a bitterly cold and snowy day. The frigid temperatures had been persistent for days, and there was no sign of relief in sight. December had just begun, but it already felt like an endless winter. While the snowflakes were beautiful as they fell to the ground, they brought a feeling of sadness and loneliness.

You loved the hot chocolates you would make for yourself in the small kitchen, you loved bundling up in a soft blanket on the sofa and watching anothe movie. You loved the seasonal Christmas themed ads that were blaring at this time of the year from every corner.

Yes, you loved Christmas, you stopped to remind yourself. Of course you did. Yet still, there was this deep nagging. A feeling of desire, that carried sadness.

'It's snowing like the world is about to end' you thought as you looked from the window that tightly sealed. There wasn't much to look at, even thought the afternoon was only just ending, through the strong snowstorm there was hardly anything visible.

You didn't watch the final race of the snowflakes for much longer. Standing up from your wooden floor you made your way to your apartment door - or more so tried to. Your pillows, blankets, old books and canvases were scattered all around so it proved to be bit of a challenge.

Your room was a mess, it has been like that for far too long. Old newspaper cutouts glued on the walls, posters, painting without frames hung up or just pushed in the corner of the room, where shadows hid them well. There wasn't enough space for them all. Books stacked up in tall chimneys, your phone somewhere burried in-between. You didn't bother to look for it too much.

Lacing up your boots, you took a last look in the mirror. As an omega it was always expected of you to look proper and taken cared of, even if it wasn't always the case. Your heavy jacket felt too heavy on your shoulders, but you knew that you would quite literally freeze to death otherwise. A white woolen scarf was tied around your neck, covering your face up to your nose. It felt comfortable against your cheeks and the scent was also pleasant, so even as it grew older, you still kept it and worn it every winter.

You grabbed your wallet, and pocketed your keys. The small bunny keychain dangled with the movement. It used to be white with few brown spots, but that wore of with the time too. Still, even if most of the colour was missing, you liked it.

With the lock clicking behind you, you started walking down the open hallway to the apartment building entrance. The rooms were only on one side, so it didn't take much time until the cold air swept you from the right. The layer of snow on the wooden railing has grown to over 10 centimetres, and that was only from this day, since it got swept pretty much every morning. The landlord was quite sweet, as allowing an omega a home when they were alone with no alpha or beta in sight wasn't too usual.

Hiding more into your jacket you quickened your pace, and after getting down the steps, you started the walk towards the pharmacy.

Snowflakes fell into your hair, as you made your way down the few streets and roads. Luckily, not many people were outside and so your smell wasn't noticed. It really wasn't too typical to see omegas walking on their own, basically anywhere. The society had strict standards that were followed since,- well, forever.

While some protested, it was just always for the better, anyone to see an omega that's completely alone, unmarked or at least scented was basically free to do anything they wished to.

It made you tremble just the slightest bit thinking about it, but you blamed it on the cold that surrounded you and shook it off. While you were on the outskirts of Seoul, it wasn't like you were constantly alone.

Yes, you reminded yourself once more. There were people around, like that nice looking lady down the street holding a hand of a little girl. She jumped and squeeled in the heavy snow, only to get lightly scolded by the beta for almost slipping in the forming ice. Pups were always the biggest priority, at least in every good pack.

As you walked further and further from your home, more stores appeared, lighting up the streets just enough for you to be more comfortable. The neon sings of restaurants, grocery shops, clothing boutiques and more were bright for your eyes, colourful and soon you started hearing bit more noise too. There were more cars passing by, people smoking cigarettes outside on the streets chatting together.

With the snow crunching underneath your feet you made your way to the mall closest to your apartment. You dusted of as much of the snow from yourself as possible, and walked inside. It felt a lot warmer immediately, but you didn't unzip your jacket too much. You knew your scent would carry too much and people would eventually notice, so you just continued on your way down the escalator, keeping to yourself with the crowd of people going downstairs with you.

Infront of you was another grocery store, that got you thinking about buying some food. The snowstorms often lasted a few days, and you doubted that it would be pleasant to walk here again tomorrow. You didn't have a lot home right now, as you avoided going until it was impossible. Plus the store here was a lot cheaper than the small shops closer to your apartment, that made a big profit from all the-

Your thoughts were interrupted by the loud sniffing behind you, something just lightly touching the back of your neck. Startled, you quickly turned, and nearly jumped from your skin. The man must have been in his forties, his eyes closed for a tiny second, before they opened and focused on your face. You averted your gaze, not wanting to seem like you wanted to start anything.

„What are you doing here alone like this?” his tone sounded concerned, but carried a weird undertone, that unsettled you even more. You felt chills run down your spine. You opened your mouth to answer, but your eyes could only widen more, as the last step lowered and you arrived at the floor. Stumbling, you regained your balance and nearly ran off in the way of the pharmacy.

Opening the door, a light bell sound chimed throughout the store, making few of the people in the queue turn to check the newcomer. Looking at your shoes, you shuffled to stand behind the last girl, her natural smell covered in a strong but very sweet perfume scent blockers. Growing up, in high schools, those were always popular for beta or even alphas to wear, to make themselves appear more approachable if their scent wasn't intriguing enough for their liking.

Such perfumes didn't work on omega scents, those were always naturally alluring and hard to cover. Scent blockers were then often used, but since you didn't go out a lot back in highschool, you hardly ever had to use them. You would, now being in college you were constantly around unknown people, so it would come with a nice benefit - sometimes all of the attention that came with being an omega wasn't nice at all. But those were expensive, and the even cheapest ones were bit too pricey for you. Plus the ones you ever tried always made you uncomfortable, and unsettled with how chemically they smelled.

The wet shoeprints with slight mud covered the tiled floors, as you patiently waited for your turn to receive your prescription. And so as the girl before you took the small bottle of medicine, thanked and made her way out again, you took the small paper from your wallet.

„Hi, what can I do for you?” asked the older man behind the counter. His hair was gray and his eyes seemed tired. With the winter season, there must be many people coming with bad colds.

„Hello,” you mumbled looking behind him at the shelves filled with medicaments, „I have a prescription of a medication from my doctor;” he leaned in closer to hear you better. Your voice was naturally just a bit too quiet. Placing the paper onto the sleek counter, you looked away as he nodded and opened it. Taking just a few seconds to read over its contents he bristled to the shelves, pulling out a brown bottle with a white cap.

„...Right here miss. I will just need you to sign a document, that states that your pack alpha is aware of this and agreed to your doctor decision.” smiling, his cheeks lifted as he took a paper from underneath the desk.

You blinked in a surprise, and felt your fingers start to slightly tremble. 'Since when was this a thing? You got your medicine just fine month or two ago, what --?'

„My pack alpha- I-”

He looked back at me after retrieving a pen with calm eyes.

„Yes miss, here... You just fill in your pack alpha's name, and your pack serial number, or if you can't remember the whole thing, you can just write your pack alpha's phone number, we can get in touch later and I will complete the form process with them. You don't have to worry about it at all.” Once again, the worker smiled brightly, seemingly trying to calm you down.

„I know the number is hard to remember, my daughters always forget it too.” lightly chuckling, you could smell just the lightest hint of calming pheromones in the air. Scrunching up the nose at the smell, your anxiety only risen.

If you won't get the medicine you will get in a lot of trouble, and miss even more college lessons, no, you can't miss anymore, and-

„umm- can.. can I just call them first? I'm not so sure-” your voice trembled just the slightest bit as you squeezed your fingers around the prescription. The man once again laughed and nodded his head.

„Of course you can! It's no issue. Just come back again with the prescription and we can go over this again miss.” Nodding slightly, stunned still, just turned on your heel and walked off, the ground slippery with the melted snow, making you almost slip a few times. You eyes clouded with tears and you sniffled loudly as you opened the pharmacy door. Defeated, you clutched your other hand in a tight grip, unsettled and confused. You could bet that your anxious scent was wafting off all over the place.

Your vision blurry, you started heading back towards the escalators, walking next to a shoe boutique and a barber shop, you reminded yourself of the way outside. Your plans were definitely different from this, and getting lost in a mall was also not included on the list so you tried your best way to walk where you remembered the right side entrance to be. With most of the people left by now, the 21nth hour was quickly approaching, and a many of trail scents left behind confused you even more.

More tears sprung up to your eyes, and your vision got even blurrier. Not having any scents to stick to, as the ones that were around when you walked to the pharmacy were exchanged for different ones, you were left in a sensory overload, not even noticing when a man bristly walked towards you.

„Hey.., hey, what's going on? What's wrong?” He bended to your eye level so you stood face to face. A white facemask was covering his face, so only his eye peeked through under his dark, long hair. A plain black newsboy cap matched with the long, thick coat that went bellow his bended knees. You looked away, just when your overwhelmed nose smelled that he was an alpha. A mixture of rain and a hint of levander that seemed to become more prominent every passing second. He was trying to calm you with his scent.

A small whimper broke out from your throat unwillingly. Your brain was just taking in bit too much for you to be able to process everything. Your scarf dampen with more tears falling onto it. The man hand quickly held your right arm, his other hand prying your fingers open, so you couldn't clutch your hands and accidently scratched yourself. He cooed at you and rubbed your arm while still holding your hand, squeezing just the smallest bit.

„...Hm? What is it?”

Looking up, you accidentally made eye contact, only to get yourself more stressed out. You were always taught to beware of any unknown people, especially alphas, and making an eye contact could be interpreted as a 'sure, let's get it on'.

His concerned eyes shocked you enough to stay like that for a bit longer. They were a lot cat like, and his eyebrows were furrowed, but not in a threatening way, no, it was worry.

„I was- was at the phar-macy..” you mumbled only to sob loudly, and your shoulders to start to shake. You looked at his facemask, trying to focus anywhere but at the alpha's eyes. Noticing you doing so, in a quick motion he pulled the mask bellow his chin, only to reveal a soft looking nose and full lips, left open just the slightest bit in focus.

His tongue darted out to lick them fastly, and he shuffled a bit closer, so the levander scent was even more prominent. „At the pharmacy? Did someone tell you something bad there? Do you not have enough money for your medicine?” His voice felt calming, but held a feeling of urgency in it. He stood back up, only to look behind you towards the store you came from just about two minutes ago.

„N-No.. that's not - it... My prescrb- prescrt-” stumbling over the word you whined softly, angry with yourself. This was really not what you needed to happen right now.

„Prescription kitty. What's with it? Had it already expired?” once again he lowered himself back down, but didn't let go of your hand and arm even once. Softly rubbing his thumb over your hand, he once again cooed at you.

„Need pack al-pha...” you cried out softly and looked at the floors. Frowning even deeper, he let go of your arm and pulled out his phone from his pocket. His other hand just pulled you a little closer, so his scent was even clearer.

The man fumbled with it for a few seconds, pressed it to his ear and waited, as the faint sound of ringing could be heard. A soft beep sound and another strangers voice went through, not loud enough for you to decipher.

„hey, where are you?”

„No, listen, I need you to come to the lowest floor, um- there is a,” whipping his head around he looked at the stores around us, „hairdresser shop here and uhh.. a pharmacy too, look just can you hurry please?”

„Ill tell you here, it's an omega .... Jimin-ah are you a fucking idiot?! Who said anything about heat? Aish..! Just hurry up, could you?”

For a second his scent got covered with a burning grass, a smell of agitation. Just as quickly as it came it was gone thought. Pocketing his phone once again, he looked back at you.

„My packmate is going to come here in a bit okay?” his voice once again soft.

„P-Packmate?” your eyes blew wide, only for more tears to come. What did that mean? Was they about to do something? Your worried thoughts circled your mind.

„Yea, but don't worry, okay? He's very-”

„Yah, hyung, what is it? What's going on?” you heard another man, only to be hit with another alpha scent, reminding you of soft vanilla blooms. „Gosh her scent is sweet..” he said lowly, so you hardly understood what he was saying. Looking up, you were met with eyes of another man. This time, circled rimmed glasses and a black face mask pretty much covered his whole face, only a small bit of his black hair peeking through underneath his dark grey beanie. A long, dark green trenchcoat with a crossbody purse like bag adored his body, making his shoulders stand out.

„I don't know...”

„Whats your name 'mega?” the newcomer asked, bending slightly to match your height too.

„..Y/N” you said as you looked away again. All of the scents were confusing you, and you shuffled at your feet. You could sense your flight or fight instincts start to come in, with how long you have been unsettled.

„..okay. Okay.” he sighed out. „My name is Yoongi, and that's Jimin. Kitty, where is your pack? Why are you here alone like this?”

You took a longer pause, too overwhelmed to answer quickly. It must have been bit too long for them thought.

„Hyung-”

„I don't ha-ve a p-pack..” sniffling, you avoided their gaze, hiding more into the scarf.

„..Well shit.” Jimin muttered, exchanging anxious looks with Yoongi.

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ੈ✩‧₊˚✧˚ · .*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Next:

[ruegarding]

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

ok we're going off-road w this one

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

afterwards, annabeth has a similar moment w damasen:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

anyway, back on topic.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but w akhyls he tries anyway,

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

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

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

thanks for coming to my tedtalk.

[insomniac4000]

Hello! May I request a ff about chrizzMD where y/n participated in the 20v1 and everything kept going wrong for her but somehow she managed to win or something like that? Thank you very much x

I really enjoyed writing this. If anyone wants a sequel with their first date let me know

20vs1 ChrisMD

When Y/N saw the tweet that the one, the only ChrisMD was taking applications for a football themed 20v1 she immediately thought about entering. She had a following, it wasn't huge by any means, about 75k subscribers where she did book reviews and some travel to different destinations and attractions like odd museums, places off the beaten path. It was enough to make a living and that was enough for her, knowing not everyone achieves major success but she could do what she loved and paid the bills so she liked her life.

One of y/n's worst personality traits was her indecisiveness, she liked the thought of doing the video, it could be fun and of course she thought Chris was a very attractive man but on the other hand what if she made a fool out of herself? She went back and forth about this for days, it was her friends who eventually convinced her it would be a good opportunity. It was only when she had filled in the application and sent it off that she realised she was one day over the deadline.

“Fuck,” she said to herself when she read the line again and cursed her indecisiveness again. She pushed it all to the back of her mind however and once again just concentrated on her content, using a random number generator to chose the order of the five books she had just purchased to review.

To her surprise one day y/n received an email to the account she used for professional matters, when she looked at the address of the person who sent it her heartbeat quickened, she could feel it beating hard through her chest, it was from ChrisMD. She went to click on it quickly and in her haste clicked on the one wrong email at first, but she found the right link and read the words, trying to keep calm.

Dear y/n Thank you for your interest in the latest 20v1 video. We had more applications than we thought so firstly we would like to thank you for your patience while we went through them all. We didn’t expect the response we received and are sad we cannot have everyone in the video we would like to. However we would love to have you participate in the video, please respond to this email if you are free to film next week Thursday and we will give you further information and instructions. ChrisMD and his team.

The message was professional and a little cooperate but y/n had to real in her excitement, this was a video for content and Chris probably wasn’t truly looking for love in a video, then again who knows what would happen.

The day of the shoot y/n was incredibly nervous. She walked onto the pitch and met all of the other girls, Chris’s producer Jamie introduced himself to everyone and explained what was going to happen for the first round. The weather wasn’t great, it was grey and cloudy which wasn’t too unusual for London, everyone just hoped it wouldn’t start to rain.

“Oh my God there’s Chris!” A girl with an American accent enthusiastically shouted, y/n looked over and there was the small curly haired man, taking a seat next to Calfreezy and ArthurTV. Y/N had to admit that although she did find Chris attractive he was much, much more attractive in person than he was in photos, he seemed quite relaxed as he laughed at something Arthur had said. The girls were all lined up, y/n was firmly in the middle of the pack.

The first challenge was to go up and introduce yourself, you were to say a pick up line and then try and score a goal. Y/N watched on as she saw her fellow competitors go bye and soon enough it was her turn.

“Okay Chris next up this is y/n,” Jamie said off camera knowing this would be edited out of the video, the girl walked in front of the table and had a small nervous smile on her lips.

“Hello y/n how are you?” Chris asked smiling and nodding at the girl in front of him. She smiled and swept her hand through her high ponytail.

“I’m good how are you guys?” Her voice came out a little more high pitched than usual but at least it wasn’t shaky.

“Good thanks, so when you’re ready.”

“Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again wearing my Arsenal Jersey?” Y/N said, and Chris laughed a little bit, ArthurTV however wasn’t as impressed.

“Then why didn’t you just wear an Arsenal top?” The brunette asked, a confused yes slightly mischievous look on his face.

“Actually yeah!” Chris laughed along with his friend. Y/N looked down at her England top and panicked slightly, fumbling over her words.

“It’s the Euro’s I’m being patriotic,” she replied hurried.

“Fair enough, kick the ball when you’re ready.” Chris could tell the poor girl was really nervous, he had gone through all of the applications and knew a small bit about all of the girls there, he knew this wasn’t the usual type of content y/n was used to so understood her nerves, he wanted to make sure at least the girls all had a great time regardless. Y/N took a deep breath before running up to the ball, kicking it with her right foot she looked and put her hands on each of her cheeks when she saw it slam into the post on the right hand side.

“Unlucky! But you seem really sweet so I’m going to put you through to the next round,” Chris said, his hands clapped together in his usual way whenever he spoke in videos.

“Thanks!” Y/N replied and skipped a little when she went back to the waiting area to watch the rest of the girls.

The next segment was taking free kicks. Something y/n wasn’t looking forward to too much, she wasn’t much as footballer, she instead used to do dance and gymnastics when she was younger so the complete opposite end of the spectrum to football.

“Any tips?” Y/N as she placed the ball in the spot. “Just run up and follow through with your foot, like one swift movement,” Chris coached y/n nodded before muttering to herself. “I’m going to hit someone,” when the eventual video was released this utterance was clipped three times, which could only mean that her foresight was unfortunately correct. She had a good run up but looked in horror as the ball span and landed straight into Arthur’s face.

“OH MY GOD I AM SO SO SORRY!!!!” Y/N exclaimed through her hands which were over her mouth in shock. Both Chris and Freezy of course found this hilarious and Chris couldn’t stop laughing at the sight of his friend now rolling around on the floor.

“I am really am sorry,” the girl said over and over again as she walked over to the injured party.

“That was amazing, for nearly decapitating ArthurTV you’re through,” Chris stated clapping his hands in amusement.

“This is going to go on the shorts channel isn’t it?” Y/N replied blushing as she walked away, causing further laughs from Chris and Freezy. Round three was a talent round. Instead of doing something she did usually y/n decided to learn a new skill, she had spent hours and hours learning to juggle.

“Oh no she’s got more boys, quick everyone duck!” Arthur joked when y/n walked up.

“I’ll stand far away enough so no one should get hurt this time,” the girl explained. She started off well, juggling the three red balls with ease, that was until she dropped them, cursing as she did.

“At least I didn’t hit anyone this time,” she said sheepishly.

“You know what, I’m going to put you through to the final round,” Chris said with a smug smile on his face, y/n was as shocked as anyone and thanked Chris before calming herself. The last portion was a chat with Chris, Arthur and Cal. Y/N sat down saying hello again.

“So, you hit the bar, hit Arthur in the face, dropped your balls and you’re still here,” Cal started off the conversation.

“I know I can’t believe it!”

“He must really want to shag you,” Arthur added and the girl sat there open mouthed and Chris places his head in his head.

“Fuck sake,” the curly haired man uttered.

“I have had a shocker though, and I was late getting my application in. I must seem really scatty but I promise I’m organised,” y/n defended herself and Chris nodded.

“Give me some book recommendations,” Chris asked looking into y/n’s eyes. They were green with flakes of brown throughout, Chris loved how unique they looked.

“The ministry of time is a great escapism if that’s the kind of thing you’re looking for,”

“I am always looking to escape the intrusive thoughts,” Chris revealed and y/n couldn’t help but agree while feeling her heart a little.

“I get that too, but books are a great escape.” The talk they had wasn’t too humorous but it was deep and real and meaningful, as much as a five minute conversation could be. The final girls lines up, the three hosts looking over towards the two finalists. Chris had his hands clasped together as he faced the women.

“Well it’s been a fierce competition and you both did amazingly well but my winner and unfortunately a date with me is, y/n! congratulations!” Y/N smiled in shock and hugged her opponent. She ten made her way over to Chris and for the video they held hands and looked back towards the camera but both y/n and Chris felt a little thump when their hands intertwined. After the shoot y/n held back at Chris’s request, he had his phone in his hand and a sweet smile on his face.

“Thank you so much for coming. I know it was a video but if you did want to go on that date for real then I’ll be happy to,” Chris asked a little shaky. Y/N smiled and nodded.

“I’d love to.”

[lozchi]

KNOCKDOWN

Masterlist Pairing(s):Sukuna x F!Reader, Modern AU

Themes: Suggestive content, profanity, mild violence, slow burn, childhood friends to lovers, OOC, fluff, angst(ish)

Prologue: 1.7k words

The kindergarten playground was a battleground of tiny tempers and unfiltered emotions.

“THE GIRAFFE IS MINE! AHHHGHHHHH!”

 And no one exemplified this more than Ryomen Sukuna.

Even as a youngster, Sukuna was a formidable presence. He constantly found himself in trouble, getting into conflicts with peers and receiving harsh rebukes from teachers who were unable to tame his unruly nature.

"I apologize for hitting Tanaka's balls, I will do it again…"He trails off.

"Sukuna!"

"Alright! I won't! Tsk, adults."

In the sandbox one day, Sukuna noticed two boys your age standing near you, whose names he didn't care to remember. Their pushing and teasing was causing you to cower in fear from their cruel words. You hastily use your arm to wipe away your tears and snot, wishing they'd go away.

“I juz wan’ play here! I was here first! Lemme be!” You yell. 

“You're a girl! You can't tell us what to do!” Sukuna's usual urge for fights found a new purpose. 

“I'm not a bad boy if I'm helping someone, heh.” He thinks to himself. 

With a determined glare, Sukuna marched over, fists clenched. "Hey, you dummies!" he yelled, his voice carrying an authority that belied his age. 

The bullies turned, sneers plastered on their faces. "What's it to you, poopy head?" one of them taunted. 

Before the boy could react, Sukuna's fist collided with his nose causing a horrifying sound. The boy fell back, holding his face while blood streamed down. Sukuna dodged the swing from the other bully with quick reflexes. He responded by delivering a quick punch to the bully's abdomen, leaving him breathless. The bully bent over in half, struggling to breathe before falling to the ground.

 “Mommy! Mommy! Help me!” The boys cried in unison.

 "Had enough?" Sukuna spat, standing protectively in front of you as the bullies scrambled away in tears. 

You looked up at your savior with wide, grateful eyes, wiping your tears away.  Boy, was he in so much trouble that day. 

“Ff-thank you, ‘K-Kuna.” You sobbed. 

He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Just don't cry about it." 

From that moment on, you were drawn to Sukuna like a magnet. At first, he found your constant presence irritating. You would trail behind him, mimicking his every step. If he ran, you ran; if he stopped, you stopped. When he sat on the swings, you’d sit beside him, your small legs dangling in the air. During snack time, you’d offer him your favorite treats, hoping to win his approval. Sukuna often rolled his eyes at your antics. 

"Why are you always following me?" he grumbled one day as you trailed behind him.

"Because you’re my hero," you replied with a bright smile, holding out a piece of candy.

"Want some?"Sukuna's scowl softened just a fraction as he took the candy. 

"Fine, but stop being so annoying."

 He found himself looking forward to the treats you brought and the way you cheered for him after his fights.

You would defend him to the other kids, proclaiming proudly;

 "Sukuna's the strongest! No one can beat him!" 

Even when he found your declarations embarrassing, a part of him enjoyed the attention. Slowly, your  loyalty began to chip away at his tough exterior. Without realizing it, Sukuna began to appreciate having you around. 

The dynamic between you and Sukuna only deepened as you both entered high school. Sukuna’s reputation as a fierce fighter had followed him, and it wasn't long before other delinquent students sought to challenge him, either to prove themselves or settle old scores. You often found yourself waiting near the school gates or in the secluded corners where these fights typically occurred. 

The aftermath was always the same: Sukuna standing victorious, his opponents nursing bruises and pride. You would rush to his side, your bag already prepared with a first aid kit.

"Hold still," you would command softly, dabbing at a cut on his cheek with antiseptic.

"I don't need your help," Sukuna would grumble, though he never pulled away.

"Stop being stubborn," you’d reply, focusing on cleaning his wounds. "If you keep this up, you’re going to have more scars than I can count."

Sometimes, it would be other delinquent students wanting to mess with each other, using Sukuna as their proving ground. But no matter how many tried, Sukuna remained undefeated. His skill and ferocity in battle were unmatched, and you were always there to patch him up afterward.

One evening, after a particularly brutal fight, you were carefully bandaging Sukuna’s knuckles. 

"You really should find a less violent hobby," you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

He chuckled, wincing slightly as you tightened the bandage.

"And what would that be? Knitting? Horseback riding? Ooh, what about pottery?"

You smiled, shaking your head. "I just worry about you, that's all."

He looked at you, a rare softness in his eyes. "I know. Thanks.”

Once you turned eighteen, the news hit you like a freight train: Sukuna had to leave for another country. The weight of his departure was heavy, pressing down on your chest as you tried to process it. His last day arrived all too quickly, and you found yourselves standing in the empty school courtyard, the familiar surroundings now filled with a profound sense of finality.

"I can't believe you're leaving," you said, your voice shaky with emotion. "I'll miss you so much."

Sukuna's usual bravado was absent, replaced by a quiet resignation. He met your eyes, his own filled with a sadness. 

"I don't really have a choice," he murmured, his tone uncharacteristically soft. "But you have to promise me something."

"Anything," you replied instantly, desperate to hold onto any part of him.

"Stay safe for me, got it?" His voice was firm, but you could hear the underlying plea.

"I will," you promised, your throat tightening as you fought back tears. "You too, Sukuna. Stay safe."

He gave a small nod, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than usual. "I mean it. Don't do anything stupid."

"I won't," you assured him, though you wished you could say more, do more to make him stay.

As he turned to leave, you felt an ache in your heart, a deep, gnawing sense of loss.

 "Sukuna," you called out, your voice breaking slightly. "I'll miss you."

He paused, his back still turned to you. For a moment, it seemed like he might say something, but all he could manage was a low hum of acknowledgment. "Protect yourself for me," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You watched him walk away, each step taking him further from you and deeper into an unknown future. As he disappeared from sight, you couldn't help but feel a pang of regret. He wished he had said it back, wished he had found the courage to tell you how much you meant to him. But for now, all he could do was carry the hope that one day, he would have the chance to make things right.

No way of contacting him, Sukuna gradually became a distant memory. The sharp, vivid images of your childhood together blurred as you got busier with your studies. The demands of school, extracurricular activities, and the push towards your future left little room for reminiscing. Each passing day added another layer of distance between you and the boy who had once been your closest friend.

Meanwhile, Sukuna was on a different path. He threw himself into intense training, honing his skills with a singular focus. His natural talent and relentless drive quickly propelled him to the top of the mixed martial arts world. As you buried yourself in textbooks and exams, Sukuna was making headlines, becoming a prodigal MMA fighter known for his unmatched ferocity and technique.

Years slipped by, and the memories of Sukuna became like old photographs, faded and tucked away in the back of your mind. Occasionally, something would trigger a fleeting recollection—a particular song, the scent of antiseptic from your first aid kit, or the distant sound of a playground. But these moments were rare and quickly overshadowed by the pressing concerns of the present.

Unbeknownst to you, Sukuna’s name began to rise in the sports world. Articles, interviews, and televised matches showcased his prowess, but in your bubble of academic pursuits, his fame went unnoticed. You had yet to discover the remarkable journey Sukuna had undertaken -- the one that had transformed him from the fierce protector of your childhood to a celebrated MMA prodigy.

Despite the cashflow and all the attention that came with his success, Sukuna felt a deep, gnawing emptiness. The trophies, accolades, and the roaring crowds failed to fill the void left by your absence. He would often find himself staring out at the arena from behind the scenes, lost in thought. 

Sukuna imagined what it would be like to see you in the crowd. He could almost hear your voice cheering for him, a familiar sound that had been a constant during his childhood fights. He pictured you there, standing amidst a sea of faces, your eyes bright with pride as you shouted his name. 

"YES! THAT'S SUKUNA! LET'S GO!" he would hear you say in his mind’s eye, your voice as clear and encouraging as it had been all those years ago.

He hoped that one day, you would see how far he had come, that you would recognize the man he had become and the battles he had fought. He longed for the moment when he could finally show you the success he had achieved and hear you say,

"I’m proud of you, Sukuna.”

But for now, those thoughts remained unspoken wishes he carried with him as he fought in the ring. Every success, every achievement was colored with the anticipation that one day you would be present to observe it, to witness his growth, and to take part in celebrating his achievements.

One day, though, the paths of your separate lives would cross again, and the faded memories would be brought back into sharp focus. But for now, you remained unaware,  while Sukuna continued to conquer arenas far away, all the while imagining your cheers in his heart.

Taglist:

just put it under this post or any of the chapters I'll release. I would be posting polls or asking readers about certain things sometimes that would possibly affect the story in a minor way so stay tuned. :)

[erindevlin101]

BLOOD TIES - vampire!sim jake x reader!

Synopsis - When Y/N L/N moves to the eerie town of Cendres Hollow, she’s warned to stay away from the forest—and the seven cursed boys who live in the mansion beyond. But curiosity draws her in, especially after one of them, the cold and mysterious Jake, saves her from danger. As she becomes entangled in the lives of these vampires, Y/N finds herself falling for Jake and challenging everything she thought she knew about monsters, love, and fate. But their growing bond attracts deadly attention, and Y/N must fight alongside the coven to protect the future they never thought they could have.

Genre & Warnings: Paranormal romance, urban fantasy, gothic drama, and new adult. Contains explicit sexual content, vampire violence, and mature themes (blood, death, transformation, pregnancy)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Epilogue

a/n: omg hey guys! I had this ff written out months ago and forgot to post it. This is a really short fic so enjoy the ride lol. I will be posting the chapters pretty quickly unless I get busy with something. see you all soon in chapter one soon!

[squoxle]

Golden Rule - L.HS ff ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡

🎧 pairing: inexperienced!heeseung x badgirl!reader

🎧 summary: your cute and nerdy classmate lets you have your way with him in exchange for help on an assignment

🎧 cw: corruption and exhibitionism kink, oral (m. receiving), religious themes, mentions of bullying, college au, hee’s a bit subby

🎧 wc: 1.4k

You had been feeling horny for the entire week and knew you had to get your hands on some good dick or else you’d literally combust.

Introducing your person of interest: Lee Heeseung.

He was the type of guy you could guess everything about without even speaking to him. From his glasses, the way he tucked his ironed dress shirts into his belted pants, the way you only saw him either sitting with his legs crossed at a church sermon or studying his heart out at the library.

Heeseung was the epitome of a Christian nerd, but it was his insanely good looks that drew your attention to him in the first place.

You two first met at the beginning of the school semester, but you weren’t sure if you could call it a friendship just yet, especially not with the way you’d fantasize about him with your fingers between your legs every night.

It currently 6:00pm: the same time he’d come to the library to study every week day.

“What’re you working on,” you asked, taking a seat beside him at the table.

“Nothing much. Mr. Sweeney gave me this stupid hand written essay that I have to turn in by tomorrow, so I’ll be pretty busy for the next few hours.”

“What for? I thought Mr. Sweeney taught Bible. There aren’t any writing assignments for that class.”

That’s honestly the only reason why you took Bible class this semester.

“He does, but this isn’t a part of the curriculum. It’s a punishment for the prank I pulled on Jake and his crew yesterday… let’s just say, I didn’t get away with it as easily as planned.”

“Oh, so you do have a naughty side?”

“Hardly,” he sharply defended, “All I did was swap their video game discs out with episodes of The Brady Bunch on dvds. But, Sunghoon snitched, so now I’m here.”

“Tough.”

“I know. It’s not like I don’t deserve it, anyways.”

“Nobody deserves to be bullied, Hee. Those guys were assholes and you stood up for yourself! They’re the ones who should be playing Shakespeare for the night,” you argued passionately.

His eyes widened at your use of a swear word, such language that was forbidden by your university code of conduct.

“I appreciate you taking sides with me, but please don’t call it bullying. Makes me feel all… soft, and… vulnerable,” he cringed at his own words.

“You look pretty soft and vulnerable to me,” you mumbled, hungry eyes falling to his pouty lips.

“Excuse me?”

You cleared your throat, “Uhm, what’s the paper on?”

“The Golden Rule.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “The what?”

“Loving your neighbors as yourself? You should really pay more attention during Mr. Sweeney’s sermons.”

You chuckled at his comment, nudging him on the shoulder, “Hey, maybe I would if he wasn’t so damn boring… How many pages does it have to be?”

He sighed, “10 at least.”

Having to come of with 10 pages worth of “Golden Rule” greatness sounded much more challenging than you knew it actually was.

All he had to do was write in VERY BIG LETTERS.

You peered over his shoulder, examining the paper. He was just getting started on page two.

“Hmm. We have similar handwriting,” you added, making Heeseung look at you with his desperate doe eyes.

“Oh my God, ____! You have to help me!”

“Watch out, church boy. The pastor might make it 11 pages if he hear’s you calling the Lords name in vain.”

“Ughhhh,” his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he groaned, “Can you please just help me out?”

“Uh-huh, and why would I do that?”

“Look, I’ll do anything! You’re a way stronger writer than I am, and my brain is in the verge of kermitting suicide!!”

He was right. Writing was never a strong subject of his, so he really did need your help.

“Fine,” you gave in, looking around the library before whispering in his ear, “If you can be quiet while I suck you off until you finish page two, I’ll do the rest.”

His eyes widened in disbelief, “What?”

“You heard me,” you said cattily, sneaking under the table and between his legs.

“____, get from down there!! This is inappropriate!”

“Says who,” you giggled, unbuckling his leather belt.

“We’re not a married couple, ____. Hell, We’re not even dating!” He whisper-yelled from above the table, fidgeting with the pencil in his hand.

You could feel how tense he was just my touching his thighs, “You’ve never been approached like this before, have you?” You asked yet stated.

He took a deep swallow, already feeling himself throbbing in his pants, “Of course not… I’m trying to save myself here, y’know?”

“Aww, that’s cute,” you pouted, rubbing his bulge through his boxers.

“F-fuhh,” he mumbled, screwing his eyes shut at the feeling, “I don’t know if I can do this, ____.”

“With God, all things are possible, Hee! You should really pay more attention during Mr. Sweeney’s sermons,” you mocked, shimmying his boxers down to his ankles.

You adjusted yourself under the table before grabbing a hold of his impressively large dick, starting with gentle pumps.

“I’m not hearing the pencil penciling, Hee. Be a good boy and keep writing,” you slithered in a sing-song voice, licking a stripe up his shaft. The foreign texture of your tongue sent pleasurable shivers down his spine.

“____,” he cried with a surpressed moan, “how am I supposed to focus when you’re down there doing that?!” He worried, looking around as if waiting for someone to catch you two.

You released your lips from his heat with a pop, “Down here doing what, Hee? Sucking your virgin dick in the library? I always knew you had a naughty side.”

“Mmm,” he moaned again, rutting his hips up into your mouth, “please tell me you’re almost done, ____.”

You grinned at the sound of his begging, feeling yourself grow wetter with each second you spent between his legs, “Depends on if you either finish that last page or cum in my mouth first.”

Taking him past your lips again, you bobbed your head up and down, stroking the remaining inches you couldn’t fit comfortably in your mouth.

He tried his best to keep writing, but with that way you were sucking him off, his hands couldn’t help but drop the pencil before getting lost in your hair.

“Fuck,” he whined, finally letting the word come out.

He started to use your head like a toy as you sucked him in even harder, “just like that, baby. Please don’t stop.”

You were surprised by how his body slowly submitted to you the more you pleasured him.

Meanwhile, he was surprised that this was actually even happening. You moaned with the gag that tried to escape your throat, clinging to his thighs as your tried to hold in your sounds.

Your eyes started to poke with tears as he used your head more aggressively than before, finally shooting his warm load down your mouth, panting as if he’d just ran a marathon.

“Shh, you’re so noisy,” you teased, stroking him to a point of overstimulation.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he whimpered, taking your hands in his to stop your ministrations.

You licked the cum that dripped from your mouth before pulling his pants back up, getting from under the table.

You fixed your hair with your hands after literally just getting your face fucked by your sweet classmate, taking in his hot and bothered frame.

“How was it?” You asked casually, sitting next to him as if nothing happened.

You tried to ignore the sticky moisture that stuck to your thighs from your own arousal, figuring that you’d think about this moment while you pleased yourself later.

“Amazing,” he said with a shaky breath, still feeling his orgasm fresh in his veins.

“I’m taking about the page you just wrote, silly,” you teased, moving the sheet of paper closer to you before examining what he came up with, “Dude!”

“What, dude?” He asked back with flushed and sleepy features.

“This is garbage!” You exclaimed, ripping the piece of paper in half.

“Yeah, I don’t know why you would’ve expected anything different.”

“Gimme that,” you retorted, snatching the pencil from his hand, “I’m gonna need some coffee to write all these pages for ya…”

“Ugh,” he groaned, understanding that you were indirectly asking him to get you something to drink.

“Iced?”

“Always.”

He got up from the seat, searching through his backpack before pulling out his wallet, “Thanks by the way,” he smiled, trailing to the library exit.

“What can I say? It’s the Golden Rule,” you replied, jotting down the first of many sentences you’d write for Lee Heeseung, the guy you just blessed with the best blow job of his life.

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:

@chlorinecake @hoyeonheeseung @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon

[splatsvilles-fashionista]

Splatoon 3 Fashion Challenge - Week 55:

I don't have too much to say here today, so let's just move onto this week's theme:

Weapons of Fresh Season 2024!

(That's right, we never did one of these this season!)

Special Rules: Like with all previous versions of this seasonal challenge, your task is to pick one of the weapons released this season and build an outfit around it! For reference that means your choices are the Douser Dualies FF, Recycled Brella 24 Mk I, .52 Gal Deco, Foil Flingza Roller, New Squiffer, Custom E-liter 4K (and the scoped variant), Custom Explosher, Dread Wringer D, Nautilus 79, and the Glooga Dualies Deco!

Rules:

Put together an outfit of any kind that you feel matches this week’s theme. Be sure to give it a name, as well!

Send it to me via ask or submission, please don’t add it to a reblog, that makes it very easy to miss! Also, please make it clear that it is a submission for the challenge and not just a regular submission.

Only one outfit per person! You can submit multiple photos of that single outfit, though.

Please include the gear you picked in the submission. It makes my life just a touch easier!  

The the deadline for outfit submissions is 10 PM UTC on Tuesday!

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

hiiii! could you recommend me some catching fire AU/married in cf fics? thank you soooooo much <3

Hello Anon!

Below is a list of MarriedinCF!Fics. Hopefully some of these are new to you! I've added this topic to future masterlists and have a few more ready to post! Happy reading!

74th Hunger Games Challenge: We Always Were-Jamie Sommers (ff) Summary: A/U This is based on a challenge in which K&P enter the 74th Games as a couple. This is based on the book, the movie but mostly my imagination. Everyone's POV. Find out how Peeta gets with the Careers. What Gale thinks about K&P's relationship... Sequels are Catching Fire: Rekindling and Mockingjay: Broken Wings A.M.-Lenai17 (ff) Summary: Snow is convinced during the Victory Tour that Peeta and Katniss are genuinely in love. What happens when Snow asks just a few more things of them? AU A Change of Heart-MooseDeEvita (ff) Summary: AU. Instead of the Quarter Quell, Snow forces Katniss to marry Peeta as entertainment for the Capitol. This turns out to be just what Peeta and Katniss needed to finally act on their own feelings for each other. Afterglow-taliiaa (ao3) Summary: Katniss feels she owes Peeta an apology after she realizes how her sudden suggestion of marriage hurt him. Always-dandilyon (ff) Summary: Peeta and Katniss are forced to get married a little earlier than they anticipated. How will it effect the Quarter Quell, and eventually, the rebellion? A Marriage Between Victors-optimus_pam (ao3) or (ff) Summary: What if the Victory Tour ended with a wedding rather than an engagement? A story that explores what would have happened if Peeta and Katniss had been forced to marry. How does this change affect their relationship? District 12? The rebellion? As Real As Real Can Be-albinokittens300 (ao3) Summary: During the nights on the train, Katniss comes to accept how deeply she feels about Peeta. And when they have to be married for the Capitol, she decides to do something for them. Even if it's only them who knows. Barren Prologue-silverdoe91 (ff) Summary: AU of Catching Fire where Katniss & Peeta actually get married and she receives a second visit from President Snow before the Quarter Quell. Behind the Veil, Beneath the Shroud-ghtlovesthg (ao3) Summary: She's an escape artist and he's a master of disguise. Having convinced Snow and Panem during the Victory Tour, the star-crossed lovers find themselves the darlings of the Capitol. And all that entails. AU following the Victory Tour.

Blazing Free-LemonLuvGirl (ao3) Summary: Catching Fire reimagined. Canon Divergent. Katniss Everdeen & her co-victor Peeta Mellark have spent every waking moment since they won the 74th Hunger Games trying to appease President Snow and keep their loved ones safe from the Capitol's wrath. They have played their parts to perfection as star-crossed lovers, and mentors. But when Snow puts a new inconceivably sadistic demand on Peeta and Katniss, they have to decide whether they will continue to used as pieces in the game, or whether to change the rules all together. (Mature themes, mentions of depression, allusions to non-consentual sex, underage drinking and drug use, violence, cursing, Everlark smut, some Everthorne drama, minor character death, etc.)

If anyone knows of a fic like this, please reblog, reply, or send an ask with fics fitting this idea and I’ll add it to future masterlists!

As always, if you have any questions, comments, or suggestions, please feel free to shoot me an ask!

[saritasoyyo]

Soundtrack to Life (20 years ago)

"Tagged by @laurie-ipsum who posted, “I’m playing around with a story about making mixtapes…I found this forward that my friends and I did in the ‘00s. Felt like it could be repurposed here as an ask/challenge thing.”

I was tagged by @carolinawrenn.

I used to LOOOOOVE to make mixtapes/Mix CDs for friends and crushes. (and they made them for me, once there was a small fight between which guy I was dating in grad school had introduced me to Neutral Milk Hotel.) I would spend HOURS making art collages & handwriting the track list on the case insert. Everyone got a piece of art. I wish i could find one to show you all how beautiful they were.

I'm just going to let the music take me where I want. I have eclectic tastes personally. But in general, for the kids out there--Mix Tapes usually had a thesis! a THEME! (Love! Driving to Ohio! Crying in Bed!) and you picked things to make the person you were gifting the mix to EXCITED! Since if it was on a tape, ff was a pain in the derriere, they had to listen to the whole thing. Skip Track & Shuffle were a whole new ball game on CDs and not tapes.

Sarita's Scenes on a Mix Tape

opening credits: Do You Realize by The Flaming Lips

waking-up scene: "Sleepyhead" by Passion Pit

average-day scene: "These Days" by Nico

first-date scene: "Kiss Me" by Sixpence None the Richer

falling-in-love scene: "First Day of My Life" by Bright Eyes

love scene: "I like that" by Janelle Monáe

fight-with-friend scene: "Hate to Say I Told You So" by The Hives

break-up scene: "Happier than Ever" by Billie Eilish

get-back-together scene: "The Promise" by When in Rome

fight-at-home scene: "Heavy Metal Heart" by Sky Ferreira

heartbreak scene: "Limit to Your Love" by Feist

mental-breakdown scene: "Reasons Not to Die" by Ryn Weaver

driving scene: "Road to Nowhere" by Talking Heads

lesson-learning scene: "Unpretty" by TLC

deep-thought scene: "Paranoid Android" by Radiohead

flashback scene: "One More Time" by Daft Punk

party scene: "Lights & Music" by Cut Copy

happy dance scene: "Viva la Felicidad" by Mongo Santamaria

night driving scene: "The Engine Driver" by The Decemberists 

regret scene: "Who Knows Where the Time Goes" by Eva Cassidy

long-night-alone scene: "Pulaski at Night" by Andrew Bird

death scene: "Knockin on Heaven's Door" by Bob Dylan

closing credits: "These Are the Days" by 10,000 Maniacs

Here's the whole thing. I suggest listening to it all the way through without skip or shuffle like a proper mix. But if you insist it'll work on shuffle too.

Tagging a few people who might be interested in this Mix or even MAKING THEIR OWN!! Please feel free to hop in and make your own! Tag me. I love to know other people's musical tastes.

@staud @marycontraire @capinejghafa

[bardic-tales]

Day 23 | Day 25

31 days of FF 7 Headcanons: Day 24: Role in the Fight Against Sephiroth

Bianca Moore’s role in the fight against Sephiroth is not that of an adversary, but of an accomplice in divine cataclysm. She does not stand in his way. She stands beside him. In a world that sees Sephiroth as the ultimate threat, Bianca is the dark miracle that affirms his dominion.

She is not redemption, nor resistance. Born of corrupted divinity and forged in prophecy, Bianca embraces Sephiroth’s vision not out of subjugation but one that she has chose. Together, they embody the end of the old world and the architects of the new. While they are bound by love or loyalty, they are also an inevitability. Her presence in this war is not a challenge to Sephiroth’s reign. It is to set the crown upon his head.

possible trigger warnings: abuse, body horror, death, existential dread, manipulation, mind control, psychological trauma, religious themes, self-identity crisis, violence

Bianca Moore’s role in the fight against Sephiroth defies traditional alignments of hero or villain. She is not a warrior on the front lines fighting against him, but rather a complex anomaly She is a force drawn to him, shaped by prophecy and bound by a cosmic bond deeper than mortal comprehension. Her presence is not that of a resistance fighter, but that of a harbinger, a sovereign whose destiny is tangled with Sephiroth’s own.

When others flee from Sephiroth’s chaos, Bianca walks into it, driven by a haunting conviction that their union is fated: divinely orchestrated, even if it leads to destruction. She is not there to stop him. She is there to stand beside him, to complete him, and to destroy everything should they have of it.

Strategically, Bianca plays a deeply psychological and metaphysical role in the conflict. Her existence alone acts as a catalyst. Their soul-link amplifies Sephiroth’s instability and ambition. Her influence is not measured in battlefield victories but in the shifting currents of Sephiroth’s intent. She serves as both mirror and muse, a being who evokes memories and provokes new obsessions. Through her, Sephiroth glimpses both ruin and rebirth. In the dreamscape, her presence is weaponized. Her mind infiltrated and rewritten by Sephiroth’s will, but her subconscious influence remains intact. She tempers his rage just as often as she deepens his madness, making her the unspoken pivot point of the entire cosmic struggle.

Bianca’s contribution to the cause is wrought in blood and sorrow. She undermines Shinra’s experiments from the inside, a walking paradox whose celestial and infernal lineage throws Hojo and Ravencroft’s scientific calculations into chaos.

As the celestials were birth to contain threats like Jenova, her very biology disrupts Jenova’s influence by mutating it, making her an anomaly Hojo cannot control. Her blood stabilizes SOLDIER degradation for a time, but then, it makes the subject deteriorate at a faster rate. Her escape from the lab is not just a rebellion. It is a prophecy in motion. Each step she takes outside the Manor is a rejection of mortal systems and a return to divine intent. She doesn’t fight for the Planet. She fights for the truth of who she is: the other half of a sundered soul, the light made flesh who chose the shadow willingly.

When the final confrontation looms, Bianca stands at Sephiroth’s side, not as a subordinate or puppet (although she still is under his influence as she was broken in the dreamscape). She has ceased to resist the darkness and instead reshapes it in her image, becoming something beyond villain or martyr. She rules her own kingdom of silence and flame, her power rivaling Sephiroth’s, not as his rival but as his consort.

Together, they are the union the Creator tried to sever. A prophecy realized. The fight against Sephiroth becomes not a matter of defeating a man, but of surviving the birth of something new: a divine monarchy forged in loss, pain, and cosmic design that extends far beyond the confines of the Planet into Creation itself.

Ultimately, Bianca is not a hero nor is she a mere villain. She is the storm that comes after the fire or the silence after the scream. In the battle against Sephiroth, she is not the enemy to defeat or the ally to rely upon. She is the question that has no answer.

As the Harbinger of Death and Rebirth, her role is to ensure the cycle ends and begins again, standing at the apex of ruin and creation with a crown forged from celestial light, infernal shadow, alien horror, and the memory of a love that chose annihilation over mistreatment and abuse.

@themaradwrites @shepardstales @megandaisy9 @watermeezer

@prehistoric-creatures @creativechaosqueen @chickensarentcheap

@inkandimpressions @arrthurpendragon @projecthypocrisy

[mysticalartist91]

*Jenova is excluded for obvious reasons

[maze-mind]

ALL about the tropes I know of. Some might be missing because idk about them.

Let me start. This is all about the tropes I READ, not write. A lot of things I write are things I wouldn't read in my spare time.

The colors stand for categories of tropes, ff types, cliches, and character dynamics.

Sooo..

------

Personal favorite tropes;

HIGH SCHOOL AU

CANON UNIVERSE

SLOW BURN

SWEET FLUFF

HEAVY ANGST

ANGST WITH A HAPPY ENDING

HURT/COMFORT

ROAD TRIP

AFRAID OF STORMS

TAKING CARE OF A SICK PERSON

ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP

ENEMIES TO LOVERS

ENEMIES TO FRIENDS TO LOVERS

ATHLETIC RIVALRY

FRIENDS TO LOVERS

GRUMPY X SWEETHEART

---

Iconic;

FUTURISTIC AU

COLLEGE AU

ROYALTY AU

BODYGUARD AU

APOCALYPSE AU

REUNION AU

KIDS AU (they are the kids)

MEDICAL AU

CRACK

DARK FIC

SLICE OF LIFE

ROM COM

PARTY GAMES

MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

JEALOUSY

KISSING IN THE RAIN

MEETING THEIR FAMILY

WEDDING

INJURY

HOLIDAY TRIP

UNREQUITED LOVE

ROOMMATES

ACADEMIC RIVALRY

---

Okay;

OFFICE AU

SUPERNATURAL AU

HOGWARTS AU

MYTHOLOGY AU

SECRET AGENTS AU

SOCIAL MEDIA

CRIME STORY

x OC

OUTSIDER'S POV

ACCIDENTAL INTIMACY

MEMORY LOSS

MUTUAL PINING

LOCKER ROOM

IN DENIAL

MISTAKEN FOR A COUPLE

INTERRUPTED INTIMACY

SINGLE PARENT

UPTIGHT x CARELESS

CHILDHOOD BEST FRIENDS

PARTNERS IN CRIME

CONFIDENT x PANICKED

---

If there isn't anything else;

PSYCHOLOGICAL

SOULMATE AU

MAFIA AU

NEIGHBORS AU

COFFEE SHOP AU

HISTORICAL AU

BODY SWAP AU

FLORIST AU

UNRESOLVED SEXUAL TENSION

SHARING A BED

LOVE TRIANGLE

FAMILY DRAMA

PREGNANCY

PRACTICE KISSING

BREAK UP

THEMES OF RELIGION

ACCIDENTAL CONFESSION

STRUGGLING WITH SEXUALITY

FAKE DATING

FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS

SIBLING'S BEST FRIEND

INTRIGUING STRANGERS

EMPLOYEE x CUSTOMER

MODEL x PHOTOGRAPHER

TUTORING

---

Absolutely not;

A/B/O SOCIETY

INCEST/FORBIDDEN AU

DEMON AU

ABDUCTION AU

CHALLENGE/BET

MPREG

CHANGING ROOM

FIRST TIME

ONE NIGHT STAND

TERMINAL ILLNESS

DISABILITY

SECRET ADMIRER

DRUNK LOVE CONFESSION

PLAY FIGHT/TICKLING

TRIPPING/FALLING OVER PERSON

AGE GAP

ARRANGED MARRIAGE

EXES

CHEATING

TEACHER x STUDENT

ISOLATED/STUCK TOGETHER

BEST FRIEND'S SIBLING

BULLY x VICTIM

MUTUAL OBLIVIOUSNESS

SUGAR PARENT x SUGAR BABY

LAB PARTNERS

BUILT ON MISUNDERSTANDINGS