#God someone should explore this idea though

[imminent-danger-came]

Okay, so hear me out. Someone a while back mentioned that maybe Wukong's plan was to die once Qi Xiaotian was fully trained and ready to take over the full Monkey King schtick. Maybe the kings who are involved in a plot to kill Sun Wukong, if that is what's going down, don't know. (That sounds like a thing Wukong might talk to only a few of the kings to prevent stuff from happening early. And considering there's only eight kings in that meeting that we see...)

I'm imagining a very messy situation if that gets out. From the kings setting things that can't be stopped into motion for nothing to Xiaotian having what I best described as a meltdown at the thought of Wukong leaving him for good.

I think I saw an animatic with an idea like that once!

Personally however, that's not something I think Sun Wukong would do. He's self-sacrificial, sure, but part of that is from knowing he has the protection of being immortal 7 times over—throwing himself into danger time and time again is something he can get away with. Another thing is that when Wukong leaves, he always does so with the intention of coming back even in the most dire of circumstances. Wukong planning to become a mentor to this kid and then abandoning him with the weight of the world and the mantle of Monkey King on his shoulders—that's messed up. Which of course Wukong is flawed and makes plenty of mistakes, but that's a certain flavor of messed up that feels very not-Wukong to me. Even when Wukong makes his own selfish choices, he is usually working for others best interests at heart (whether or not it actually IS there best interest is a different conversation entirely). There's just not really a justifiable reason for anyone other than himself to leave like that. It's also the opposite of the conclusion he comes to at the end of s3: "Mei was right—I need to stop dragging you into my fights." And, well, if your plan was to die and give up on the world anyways, why bring up a successor at all? In the s4 special we were shown Wukong's paranoia over mortality—over dying—what would cause him to do that 180? ((Which these questions aren't really a counter point but more of something I'm asking to flesh out the idea.))

While it's definitely a fun and angsty concept (certainly something the fandom should explore if they want to), I'm not sure it has a place in the current story. If that was Wukong's plan, it would have happened (or have been greatly hinted at) at the beginning of s4 ("I think you actually might have done more for the world than I ever had!" which is very "the Student has become the Master"). I could see something more along the lines of Wukong sacrificing himself for MK in some way (which he commonly does), and really pushing his immortality to the brink. If Wukong's gonna die, it's going to be somethin' like that.

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

could you do finnick odair giving you head? i loved your last fanfic!

of course! thank you so much <3

forbidden fruit | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick was your mentor; intimacy was strictly prohibited. but he just couldn’t help but succumb to your sweet taste. in the training centre, no less.

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: oral (fem receiving), fingering, orgasm, finnick is a swallower!!!, swearing, kinda exhibitionism

notes: i just know finnick would be like a god at giving head. sorry it was a bit short; i had another wip going on as well. definitely enjoyed writing this though ;)

word count: 1.3k

This was wrong. So very wrong. Finnick was supposed to be your mentor. You were supposed to be doing one-on-one training. But, God, if you said having his tongue lapping between your thighs felt anything but perfection, you would be lying to yourself.

“Oh,” you breathed out. “Fuck, Finnick.”

His muscular arm had swung your leg over his shoulder, allowing him even deeper access to devour you against the wall of the empty Training Centre gymnasium. The lower half of your body had been stripped bare; your clothes discarded to the floor by the man kneeling beneath you.

He traced tight circles around your clit with the tip of his tongue, only stopping to suction his mouth around it and suck. A cacophony of shocked cries and desperate moans left your mouth. You should have known he would be able to make you feel this good. He had a wicked smile and a wicked mouth that could do filthy things.

Teeth nipped gently at your clit, causing your hips to jerk forward with a startled gasp. “Oh my God.”

Finnick removed his head from between your thighs, peering up at your expression with sinful sea-green eyes. Your mouth was slightly agape, brows were drawn together, and cheeks were flushed with a warm pink. His chin and lips were drenched with your juices. He really was devouring you whole.

“Gotta be quiet, sweetheart,” he purred, pressing a kiss to the tender flesh of your inner thigh. “I know it feels good but…” His lips trailed up your thigh, getting closer to the place you needed him most. “…we wouldn’t want anyone to find you like this, would we?”

Oh, you knew what would happen if they did. However dangerous the consequences might have been, the idea of someone walking in on Finnick with his face buried in your pussy was exhilarating. Downright arousing.

You weren’t even sure how you ended up in this situation. One minute, you two were practicing hand-to-hand combat and the next, his tongue was exploring your body as you cried out his name in pleasure.

“I’ll be quiet. I—” Suddenly, his tongue was dragging from your soaking hole to the peak of your clit. “Promise.”

Your hand flew to your mouth, dampening the pleasured noises that threatened to escape. Another hand dropped into his hair, fingers interweaving with the messy bronze strands as you tugged him closer. He groaned into your pussy, sending a wave of euphoric vibrations through your body, stimulating the muscles in your stomach that pleaded for a release.

“Sweet girl. Taste so good,” his voice muffled into your skin.

Your heart fluttered at his praise.

And then, before you could even think, Finnick had pulled your other leg over his shoulder, holding you against the wall with pure muscle. He immediately continued his movements, leaving you only seconds to be baffled by his strength.

He flicked his tongue back and forth over your clit, his tongue rough in pressure and wild with speed. Tears were forming in your eyes, overwhelmed by the pleasure he was giving you. Your stomach was tensing and caving uncontrollably; chest rising and falling with fast, uneven breaths.

Even Finnick seemed to be gaining gratification from getting you to your high, obvious in the frenzied enthusiasm and moans that vibrated against you.

Somehow, he had managed to shift your weight onto one shoulder and dropped a hand to your core. His finger teased at your entrance as he continued working your swollen sensitivity with his tongue. He sunk his long finger into your pussy, instantly curling upwards into that deep, heavenly spot that had you biting your palm and your eyes squeezing shut.

“Fuck!” you cried into your hand.

Multitasking wasn’t a problem for him. He sucked, lapped, and tongued, all while curling and pumping his finger in and out of your hole, knuckles probing at your inner walls as he did. Then he added another finger, and you could feel its effects deep within your stomach.

Clit being assaulted and dripping-wet hole stuffed, your orgasm came creeping into the light. It was building slowly. First to be affected was your mind—your thoughts were utterly immoral. You were light-headed and blood buzzed in your ears.

Next was your lower half. Your thighs clenched around Finnick’s head, hips grinding against his tongue which only encouraged him further on. Then your breaths became shallow, a whine or whimper occasionally escaping with each exhale.

His mouth left your heat, fingers still pumping. “Are you close, sweetheart?” he asked in that carefully crafted seductive voice of his. You nodded frantically, pushing his dishevelled hair from his forehead as he gazed up at you. “Let me hear.”

Your hand fell from your lips. “But you said—”

“Forget what I said.” He leaned into your heat, his words fanning warmth against your pussy. “I want to hear my name coming from that pretty mouth of yours as you come.” An unhindered broken moan echoed around the room as he forcefully plunged his fingers into that spot deep inside you. “That’s it, sweetheart.”

The sound of your pleasure filled the gymnasium. You couldn’t even think about the possibility of someone walking in. Not when a white-hot heat was consuming your entire being.

He returned to your throbbing clit, hungrily sucking it in his mouth as if he were tasting a foreign delicacy. The pressure of his suctioned mouth had the heat feverishly spreading around your body, filling you up before it had the chance to explode. And with another pump of his fingers, a blaze erupted in your stomach.

“Finnick!”

Your moans rose an octave, head falling back against the wall as you repeated his name and strings of curses over and over. Sparks trickled down your legs and to your toes. Immense pleasure crested over every inch of your pulsing body, rendering you immobile in Finnick’s arms. Still, he didn’t stop.

Unbeknownst to you, just the sound of you reaching your climax had him coming undone as well, groaning into your gushing slick as his cock twitched and spurted white ropes in his pants.

He licked a long stripe up your slit, collecting your juices with his tongue. Fuck, he had never tasted anything sweeter. Anything more delicious.

As the wave of bliss began to pass, your tensed body began to relax. Finnick noticed, slipping his fingers from your hole and removing his mouth from your overstimulated clit. He watched as your fatigued body started to crumple in on itself, thankfully having the right idea to help you off his shoulders.

He settled you onto his kneeling lap, creating a wet patch on his pants. Not that he cared—it kind of turned him on again.

You couldn’t even look him in the eyes. How were you supposed to face him after… that? Much to your discomfort, Finnick turned your head to face his with a finger. The dry one, of course. His eyes searched yours with a look you couldn’t quite describe. Worry? Anxiety?

“You regret it?” he asked.

It took you a moment to decide; ultimately, you shook your head. That was the most exhilarating thing you had ever experienced in your life. Saying anything else would be a lie.

He smiled.

“But we shouldn’t do it again,” you said softly.

“No…” he sighed, the smile dropping from his face. “But we will.”

And there it was again—that devilish smirk. You couldn’t resist returning it with a sheepish smile because you knew he was right. You would do it again.

[personasintro]

A part of Mutual Help series!

pairing: mh!jungkook x reader

warnings: explicit language, Kiko is mentioned (this deserves it's own warning)

genre: fluff

word count: 1.8k+

a/n: Merry Christmas! ♡

Mutual Help Series

.

.

“Oooh, what could be in here?” Taehyung muses, pursing his reddened lips that has gotten its own intense color thanks to the cold weather outside. 

What was he doing outside when you've been at this place for around an hour? Flirting, of course. 

“Knowing you, probably tons of condoms.” you answer, causing Taehyung to stop shaking the present he's just gotten from Jimin. It stops rattling under his grip as he shoots you a glare across the table. 

Unfazed, you reach with your chopsticks for a piece of meat before you put it in your mouth. Next to you, Jungkook cackles under his breath and Jimin looks proud by your little comment. 

“Well, miss I-don't-need-anyone, we all like to have our fun. Maybe you should try it.” Taehyung bites back. Though his tone sounds serious and deep with his thick accent, there's a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. 

You know how far you can take it to joke with each of your friends. Taehyung's got a thick skin and there's only so little you could actually say to offend him. Not that you would ever want to. Taehyung loves jokes and fun, he loves teasing and most of the time he's the one who takes it too far but never to actually cause a damage to your friendship. Whatever he says, you know should not be taken to heart literally. Therefore, no matter what he says about your single life – you don't take it as an insult. 

“Hooking up with a bunch of strangers? No thanks.”

He grins, “Maybe you should try it.”

“You offering?” you shoot right back, Jungkook choking on his soda as Jimin laughs out loud.

“You know what? Once you grow up a little, text me.”

You snort, “Stop acting as if I was a child.”

Taehyung shrugs, “No, but you're the baby of our group.”

Groaning, you frown. “Don't call me that.”

“Deny it all you want, Y/L/N but we all know the truth.”

“You guys scare almost every guy that looks at me. It beats the point of having fun.”

“Don't say shit like that, now! I'm all for you exploring and having fun.”

“Our point of fun is slightly different than hers, Tae.” Jimin comments, putting more meat to your plate as you thank him with a grateful smile. For the meat, of course. Although, he's not that off about the entire fun topic. 

“We all know what kind of fun we're talking about.”

“Alright, let's move on, yeah?” Jungkook calls, shaking his head at Taehyung.

“Here we go, protective Jungkook.”

“Why do you always somehow bring up sex in every conversation?” Jungkook scolds him.

Taehyung gasps, feigning offense as he points his finger at you. “First of all, she started talking about condoms!”

Jimin laughs out loud while you shoot him a glare for being too loud. God, you hope the owners won't kick you out. Talking so publicly about sex is often frowned upon. No one who wants to enjoy their meal wants to hear someone talking about sex from the other table. Unless those people are… open like Taehyung. He's always been a bit shameless. 

 Jungkook glances at you upon Taehyung's finger that's directed toward you. You shrug innocently. “So what? You automatically got into it.”

“You know it doesn't take too much for me.”

“That's true.” Jimin nods along with Taehyung's response. 

You laugh, “Just open the goddamn present, Tae.” 

He cracks a grin and starts laughing before he rips the package open. Surprisingly, it's not condoms – you would seriously laugh your ass out if it were – but it's a box of popular male fragrances in smaller versions. You recognize all of them, silently praising Jimin for this year's present. 

You all exchange presents for each other. There was an idea coming from Jimin, you think, last year to pick up a secret Santa for each year. But there's something special and thoughtful about buying everyone a gift. And it makes a slight burden to all your wallets, but nobody said the presents have to be expensive. Yet, they're always meaningful and nobody gives shitty presents here. 

You meet every year before Christmas since all of you spend it with your families. You've decided to make your own and celebrate it together, even if it's beforehand. This year it has to be because you're flying back home sooner than usual. 

They were kind enough to meet no matter what, said it wouldn't be the same if you weren't here. 

After that is done, Jungkook is the one to take you home since Taehyung came to pick you up. There's fog everywhere with snow sitting down and not melting anytime soon. You love when there's snow around Christmas time.

On your way home, it's not that late by the time you arrive. Jungkook helps you with your presents upstairs and accepts a cup of tea you offer him with a stern look. You're quick to shed the layers of clothes and make yourself more comfortable. You bring Jungkook his tea and make a hot chocolate for yourself.

“What you got in there?” you ask, plopping next to him as the warmth and scent of home hugs you. 

“A little something,” he says with a cheeky grin. 

Spotting the same Christmas wrapping paper he has used for all his presents, you give him a knowing look. You're about to protest and scold the shit out of him when he shakes his head with another grin. 

“Stop.”

“No, you stop!” you whine, “You already gave me your present.”

And it was great. Jungkook has given you two tickets to a water park that's located on Jeju Island. That alone tells you it wasn't quite cheap.

“It's not much, I swear.” 

“But why? We all decided on one present.” 

Grateful that he's so thoughtful, you're slightly annoyed that he broke the rule that perhaps never was so serious but it makes you feel bad. 

“Just because.”

“That's not a valid reason.”

“Sounds very valid to me,” he sings out, teasing you a little further as you both giggle. “You'll understand it once you open it.” he finishes it with that, urging you to open it.

Hiding the heat in your cheeks, you playfully roll your eyes and start unboxing the little box he has managed to sneak in his jacket. Curiosity and excitement takes over you because Jungkook's presents are always something else. You rip the package and gasp as soon as you recognize the familiar box.

“Kook!”

“You told me you ran out the other day.”

“Did you–”

“Bought it when Jimin bought Taehyung's present? Yeah.” He answers, already knows what you were about to ask. But you're too stunned to scold him for interrupting you.

You open the box and pull out your favorite perfume. A few weeks ago, you don't even know how that conversation came up but you mentioned to him that your perfume is running out indeed. It wasn't anything intentional of course, more of a whine when you were about to spray a tiny amount as you were about to go out. You thought he was barely listening to you, urging you to rush out your ass outside. His exact words. 

But he's always listening. 

“I think I'm gonna be more careful what I'm about to say in front of you. You're gonna buy me everything I mentioned.” you chuckle, taking a good inhale of your favorite flowery and powdery scent. You mostly use it during warm seasons but it's a good one even in the winter.

It's your staple scent. Everyone knows it. It's special. You were using it back at home and it not only smells incredible, it also holds a certain emotional attachment you have with it. 

“Don't worry about that, you're out of my budget.” 

You kick the side of his thigh as you cross your legs under your butt, carefully placing the bottle on the table next to the ripped wrapping paper. “I wanted to buy it after Christmas.” 

“You don't have to anymore.”

You give him a look, questioning his answer for everything as he simply justifies his thoughtfulness in the most basic manner. He always brushes it like it's nothing. But it's very special to you. He is. 

In seconds, you wrap your arms around him and hug him tightly. He lets out a surprised gasp, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he hugs you back. He's warm, smells like a mixture of his wooden cologne and winter air. 

“Thank you.” you mumble into his shoulder before you slowly pull away. “But seriously, you should stop spending so much money on me. Don't you have a girlfriend to spend money on?”

As far as you know, she's fine with it but who knows. Jungkook isn't the type to let anyone get into your or guys' friendships. But he's also in love and people in love tend to be slightly blind, if you must say so. Not that you speak from your own experiences but well, it's quite known. And Jungkook is definitely in love. 

“Don't worry about Kiko,” he assures you, “She'll get a good amount of presents too.”

“Well, I hope she loves you for you and not for your bank account.”

He scowls, causing you to give him a childish toothy grin that acts innocent. “She's not like that.”

“But I'm serious, you should stop spending so much money on people. Especially on me.”

“I spend my money however I want and you know what?” he asks with a grin, leaning closer to you as you watch him with wide eyes. “It's none of your business.” he flicks your nose with his thumb causing you to cuss him out as you push his forehead to get him away from your proximity. 

“So really, just accept it.”

“You're stubborn.”

“You're telling me?” he laughs out loud as if you just told him the biggest joke.

Rolling your eyes again, you purse your lips. “I wanted to be nice, you moron.”

“Be nice by just accepting it. And the simple thanks is just enough, not needed though. The hug was very nice.”

You slap his arm in a teasing manner which causes him to laugh even more. “I'll hug you for the rest of my life.”

“Promise?” he smirks. 

“I promise.” you giggle, nodding.

“Well, then Merry Christmas.” 

“Merry Christmas, Kook.” you smile, the warmth spreading all over your heart. Even though this year hasn't been all rainbow and sunshine, it's alright as long as you have these people right beside you. 

Who cares about presents? They're nice and show the thoughtfulness behind them by each of your friends. What you need the most is just them. And the special relationship you have with each of them will hopefully last your lifetime. Because if it doesn't, nothing will ever be the same. 

Without them you would feel lost. At the moment, you're anything but lost. You have your second family, hoping this tradition between you never dies and will continue years and years.

[md-intermission-archive]

"Murder Drones: Intermission": A Story of Understanding

Uzi Doorman: Understanding Loneliness

I feel like during the development of this episode, Uzi was the hardest character for me to wrap my head around. To my understanding, she’s feisty, angsty, and plays up this persona of being apathetic. A sort of lone wolf thing.

She’s snappy towards her classmates who ostracize her, snappy towards adults in her life, and overall gives a middle finger to anyone who isn’t on Team Uzi. It’s a very “me vs. the world” type of thing. That, to me, just felt like the callous shell of someone who’s painfully fragile and has been hurt so often.

I will admit, I may be projecting slightly, but I honestly read her as like… a neurodivergent kid who didn’t know how to navigate social circles, so she just became incredibly bitter. Her father didn’t help her situation at all because he also treated her like a freak, literally calling her a disappointment in his business ads. Then on top of all that she had no mother figure to look up to. All of this accumulates into a habit of isolation. “No one will love me, so fuck it. I’m on my own”. She acts like she’s fine on her own, when in reality she’s so starved for genuine connection. With that in mind, in Intermission I wanted to peel back those layers a little bit. I wanted to explore self-isolation and that hunger for love. 

Some people clocked this I think: the way Uzi’s attitude is toned down in Intermission. I didn’t want to play up her angsty teen act as much (and I capped her at one “bite me”) because then I’d risk falling into the trap of making her into a caricature of herself. The way I framed her in my head is “if she wants connection, then she’d be happier around people who she sees as her friends. If she’s also fragile though, she’ll make an immediate 180 at the slightest hint of meanspiritedness”. This was the guideline I gave myself when it came to bouncing her off of V and N. N melts her icy demeanor. He’s very gentle and encouraging with her. One example being how N kneeled down to her eye level when speaking to her when she was putting up her walls again. As someone who’s constantly ostracized, she needs a gentle touch in order to relax.

I made sure to keep that in mind, that while she was being treated gently, she should show more signs of happiness. Comfort. Part of that comfort is also reflected in being mischievous/playful. As for the 180 she makes if shown any sort of cruelty, that’s reflected in acts of self-isolation. 

This is something I’ve observed from myself and people in my life. If someone is already deathly afraid of rejection, they won’t reach out for help and their immediate instinct will be to isolate. In the beginning of the EP when Uzi’s having her Solver flare up her immediate thought is “I’m going to put up a firewall (repress) and just not even mention this to anybody”. Then when N offers to help, she still shows signs of being uncomfortable because she’s not used to it. It isn’t until V’s comment calling her a lost cause irks her that she decides “screw it let’s give it a shot”. She hates being underestimated, so this reaction made sense to me. Meanwhile the climax of the episode is where I wanted the most overt display of her fears to be presented.

As I said earlier, Uzi’s sensitive to rejection. She attacked the only people in her life who care about her, and the worst part was it wasn’t even her fault. Uzi is a person who really wants a sense of control over her life for the sake of security, so that loss of control and the idea of “oh my god they hate me now” was the final straw for her. So, she isolated. She ran off (or in this case, flew off), she barricaded herself, and she cried.

During the scene when Uzi's found, I had a bit of an issue figuring out where to go from there with her. I had two options: I could once again lean into her badass persona and have her fight back, or I could have her fold. I decided the latter. To her, she just lost the only people who cared about her, she's a monster to worker drone society, her father doesn't care about her.

What's the point. She's doomed to be alone.

If V didn't have her revelation, Uzi would've let herself die. While I understand that's an upsetting choice to make in the narrative, given Uzi's circumstances it felt like the appropriate reaction. Which is why the events following were so important.

While Uzi's at her lowest point she's shown pinch of kindness.

While it’s true V’s initial intention was to off Uzi, her showing compassion and sympathy was what helped calm Uzi down. Rather than making her put up walls like V usually does, V was able to break through them a tad. That interaction, N pouncing at her with a hug, and the final scene was meant to cement in Uzi’s head that she finally wasn’t alone (even if V still struggled to not be prickly with her). The three are still incredibly messy, but there’s that sense of trust that Uzi now has people in her life that actually care about her despite her messiness. The mischievous attitude even comes out when she says, “you found a nanospark of warmth in your heart to care about me”. She now feels more comfortable with V to an extent, and she finally has a support system.

I think…the reason why I love Uzi so much is that she’s sadly reflects the experience of what it's like not being able to fit into society's mold of acceptable. Even if she might not be neurodivergent, the bullying and isolation she experiences is very familiar. I wanted to do her justice as much as I could with that all in mind and with the resources I had. I wanted to give her one happy ending to a day when every other feels like utter hell.

The angsty teen may be badass, but her heart is still fragile.

[froggiewrites]

May I request some Luffy smut? Maybe including some aphrodisiac of some kind or influence from a devil fruit- I don't mind! I'd just love to see your ideas

I am SO sorry this has taken so long, thank you to everyone who's sent in requests for being so patient. Life has been kicking my ass this month so badly I haven't even been able to read any fanfic, let alone write it. Fingers crossed that the end of November is kinder than the beginning!

I'm really excited to have finally finished this request, I'm a big sucker for sex pollen/aphrodisiac stuff so this was really fun for me! Also, this was my first time writing for Luffy, so I hope I did him justice!

Need

Pairing: Luffy x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You find your Captain in dire need of a little help. What kind of friend would you be if you didn't provide? Warnings: Smut, Sex Pollen/Aphrodisiac, Oral Sex (Reader receiving), Vaginal Sex Word Count: 1.8k

You should have known something was wrong when the ship was quiet. The Thousand Sunny is never quiet. There’s always the sound of clashing metal, of excited voices, of a song dancing its way across the deck. But you don’t hear a single noise outside of your door, nor do you see anyone as you pad your way outside. 

You knew that you were docking soon, that your crew would leave to explore the island, but you didn’t expect them to leave without waking you up. You had been on night watch last night, so you certainly needed the rest, but you’re not used to them not at least momentarily waking you to let you know where everyone’s going.

Your surprise and confusion only grows as you hear someone crashing through the brush, and you see your Captain emerge, sprinting precariously toward the ship as though he’s being chased.

“Luffy?”

He doesn’t answer as he continues to rush forward, launching himself up onto the Sunny. Luffy stumbles onto the deck, teetering dangerously towards the railing. Before you can rush to catch him, his back hits the wood, and he lowers himself to the ground, legs splayed out. You can’t even tell if he can see you until he murmurs your name. He’s dripping with sweat, his face red.

You kneel down between his legs, leaning forward to try to get a good look at him. You can’t see any visible injuries, but clearly something is horribly wrong. “Are you okay, Luff?”

“No.” His voice is nothing but a whine, his eyes glassy and unfocused. “Need…something.”

“Something?”

Luffy glances around, pout on his face. “Something. Dunno what.”

You reach out to rest your hand on his forehead, which is burning so hot you almost pull it back in shock. He leans into your touch, giving off a soft hum. “You have a fever. Do you know what happened to you?”

“Nothing happened. We were all exploring, and we split into groups, and then…hm…I ate that fruit Zoro picked.”

Oh god. Zoro’s not exactly a botanist, or a survivalist, and for a single moment you believe with every fiber of your being that your dear friend has accidentally poisoned your captain. “What kind of fruit was it?”

“I dunno. It was sweet. And red.”

You sigh. “That doesn’t narrow it down at all. God, you would think that eating one mystery fruit in your life would be enough for you.”

His indignation beats out his discomfort for just a moment. “The first one went really well.”

You guess you can’t argue with that. “Can you remember anything else about it? We can rule out any devil fruit since you haven’t…exploded.”

“It was warm. And it made me wanna come find you.”

That makes you pause. “It…made you want to find me? Like specifically me?”

“Yeah.”

You have a bad feeling about this. “Do you know why you wanted me?”

He squints in concentration. “To…make it better.”

“How?”

He grabs your hand and places it back on his face. The sound he makes is borderline erotic. “Like this. This helps.”

The warmth against your hand, the moan that escapes your captain, the tent you can see growing in his pants, it all starts painting a very troubling picture. A very tempting one, but troubling nonetheless. “Luffy, are you warm anywhere in particular?”

“My stomach. And lower.” He pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around you and burying his face in your neck. His nose nuzzles against you, and he takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent and sighing. His hands gently massage against your hips, reveling in the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips. “You’re soft,” he murmurs, lips brushing lightly against you. You clench your thighs involuntarily, a move you hope he doesn’t notice.

“You’re—ahh!” One of his hands moves up to your breast, squeezing your breast through your shirt, and he moans again at your squeak. “You’re not in your right mind, Luffy! I think that fruit was—ah!” His hand slides beneath your shirt, then your bra, and finally he pinches your nipple. 

“Come closer.” His voice is thick as he pulls you onto his lap. “I think this is fixing it. Feels nice.” He jerks his hips, and you can feel his hardness rub against you. You try to keep your moan inside of your mouth, but when you do, he huffs, and ruts into you harder.

“Luffy!”

He grins. “That’s better.” As his hand begins to slide down the front of your pants you finally come to your senses and grab it, stopping him in his tracks. He blinks at you, a little clarity coming back to his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“You–you’re clearly under the influence of something, and I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want–”

“I want it.” The hand slides slowly down further. His voice grows hungrier, more desperate. “I need it.”

With the way he’s looking at you, pupils blown out and cheeks flushed, you believe him.

“Well if you really need it, I’d hate to deprive you, Captain.”

He grins, and before you know it, you’re pinned to the deck, your shirt and bra removed, Luffy’s teeth pressing insistently against your chest. He shoves his hand unceremoniously between your legs, making a small noise of satisfaction against you when you squeal. His fingers slide against your clothed clit, sending a shiver up your spine and slowly building the heat in your gut. He hums quietly, “It’s wet.” He looks up at you. “For me?”

You flush, before nodding quickly. You can’t bring yourself to look at him out of fear you’ll combust. You can see the sweat sliding down the muscles in his arms and chest, his tongue peeking out of his mouth as he pants. He looks even better than you’d ever dreamed, his eyes radiating a hunger than you never expected to be directed at you.

He quickly slides down your pants and underwear in a single motion, and in your surprise you press your thighs together, shielding yourself from him. He practically growls, “Stop that. Wanna taste.”

He pries your thighs apart, diving into you with the same enthusiasm he does everything else. His tongue laps at you with reckless abandon as he sloppily takes everything you’ll give him. His hands pull you impossibly closer, his nose brushing against your clit as his mouth explores. When you moan, he laughs against you, the rumble of it spreading across your sensitive skin and making your thighs tense around his head. You worry you’ll suffocate him, drown him, but he doesn’t seem to mind losing to you.

You can feel the tension building in your body, your legs shaking as you come closer and closer to your peak. Your hands grip the grass beneath you, one second away from ripping it out of the deck entirely. Some part of you is hyper aware of the fact you are out in the open, where anybody could see or hear, but the rest of you is lost in the pleasure of the moment, in the feeling of your Captain’s tongue against you. So you don’t try to stop your back from arching as your climax grows nearer, nor do you make any attempt to hold back your cry as you cum on your Captain’s face.

He pulls away from you, his face dripping, his pupils blown out, and his lips upturned into a dazed smile. You can’t bring yourself to look away as he slowly licks his lips, savoring every drop of you. Without a word, his mouth crashes into yours, and you can taste yourself on his lips. His hands roughly force down his pants, exposing his weeping cock to the cold air. He lets out a borderline whimper of relief against your lips, before pulling back just long enough to whisper, “Get ready.”

“Lu–ah!” He thrusts into you in one smooth stroke as his lips once again insistently press against yours, stealing your breath away. You can feel every inch of him as your body welcomes him in, clenching around his length. He moans into your mouth, the sound deep and wanton. He gives both of you little time to adjust before his hips are rocking, chasing the release he’s been so desperate for. He’s moving so quickly you’re surprised he was patient enough to even wait this long. His hands are borderline bruising on your hips, his teeth clacking against yours as your kiss grows rougher and rougher, as your dear friend and Captain pounds into you with the fervor of an animal in heat. 

You can feel his muscles tense under your fingers as you pull him tighter. His breaths grow more ragged with every moment, and as he finally pulls away from your kiss you get to see the beautiful sight of the dam breaking as Luffy finally cums. His face is filled with a mix of relief, exhaustion, and affection as he gives a final few thrusts, your own climax coming not soon after. He collapses on top of you, and the weight is more comforting than crushing, though it steals your breath away anyway.

“I was right.” His voice is sleepy and slow, and you can’t help but picture the faces of your friends as they find you stripped bare and pinned to the deck below your Captain. Sanji might have a breakdown.

“Right about what?”

“I needed you. You fixed it.” His hand comes to rest on the back of your head affectionately, and he places a comically loud smooch on your forehead.

“So you’re all cured?”

“Ye–” He hums, and you can see an idea take him as his face scrunches up and his eyes shift away. “No. I think we’ll need to do this again.”

You can’t keep the smile out of your voice as you respond. “Oh yeah? How many more times, do you think?”

“I dunno. A lot. It could take a while.”

You laugh. “You know, I think we can do this as many times as it takes.”

He lets out an overjoyed laugh. “Awesome!”

“But first we should get inside before anyone else gets back. I don’t really want them to see me like this.”

He nods, quickly scooping you up and carrying you in the direction of his cabin. Before you can say anything else, you hear the voices of your crew coming closer, and you quietly urge him to rush.

You only get a moment of relief before you hear Zoro’s confused voice.

“Whose clothes are these?”

Your panic is quickly overshadowed by Luffy’s booming laugh rumbling through his chest, spreading the same infectious joy that he always does. The embarrassment is worth it, just to hear such a wonderful sound.

Tag List:  @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @saturogojosgirl @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay

[dude-boi]

Fantasies.

6.6k words.

Summary: Joel, your dad's best friend, should not be thinking of you the way he has been, shamelessly. What happens when he grows tired of your incessant teasing?

 Warnings: Not proofread. No Ellie! SMUT. Hefty age gap (Joel is around 50, the reader is around 22)... unprotected p in v... praise, fingering, mirror sex, slight masturbation.  Also, the reader has light insomnia. Tbh, I want to make a second part to this but we'll see. 

--------------------- Joel Miller. Your dad's best friend/ business partner. Your dad and he work together on some business, one you had no idea about (though you rightfully assumed smuggling). But you didn't dare ask any questions, because it kept you all safe and kept a hefty amount of rations on the table. He's been around for as long as you can remember, watching you grow up into the young woman you are now. You both didn't talk much, but you were used to seeing him around all the time, your dad couldn't do anything without him.

  So, when you found yourself thinking of Joel at 2 A.M with your hand between your thighs and soft pants escaping your lips, you couldn't help but feel a little ashamed, even if you were of age. In all twenty-two years of your life, you'd always have some kind of interest towards Joel. It started out innocently, how any little girl would have a wholesome infatuation towards a someone who'd show her attention. But it developed into something else, something more taboo. It felt wrong to think of him like that, to imagine it was his thick, calloused fingers pumping into you instead of your own, to imagine him taking  your innocence, your purity, your virginity. The thought of someone so close to you, someone so much older  taking care of you and making you feel good just turned you on so much more. He wasn't an ugly man, by any means. In fact, he might've been the hottest man you've ever seen. Everything about him was just right. His salted hair, his gruff beard, his nose, the scar on it, his built arms, the way he stays close to you when your dad forces you to go exploring with him, his accent. Oh god the accent, it just ties everything up with a little bow.

  As you curled your fingers in and out of you, you couldn't help but imagine Joel calling you darlin' or sugar, little nicknames he'd given you through your childhood. Images of his arms flashed through your head. Images of him sitting here, fingering you as he praised you, calling you baby girl, and saying how good you're doing. You couldn't hold yourself back any longer, cumming around your own fingers as you softly gasped out his name, a mantra of Joel, Joel, Joel  filling your own ears.

  The euphoria you felt after was indescribable, but it was tainted with the feeling of guilt, but it made it all the more delicious. 

-----

You weren't surprised to find Joel sitting at your breakfast table the very next morning. He was over at your house, a lot.  It was a casual thing, he'd be on the couch with your dad discussing work stuff and spend the night in the guest room next to yours. A part of you had silently wished he could hear you touching yourself, mewling and calling out to him. The idea of getting caught made it all the more better.

  So seeing him eating a bowl of cereal in a dark brown t-shirt at 8:45 in the morning didn't phase you at all, but it did make you self conscious as you were suddenly hyper-aware of your body in a tank top and shorts. And clearly so was Joel, the way his gaze hardened as his eyes lingered. He looked up at you through his eyebrows, his spoon just leaving his mouth as he swallowed.

  "Mornin'," he told you, finishing up his food. He wasn't a man of many words, his eyes did the work for him. And right now, he couldn't keep them to himself. You smiled after remembering what you did last night, thinking of him while you did.

  Keeping eye contact, you replied with a soft grin. "Hey, Joel." Your stomach churned and stirred as you thought about what would happen if he found out about your... fantasies. And your fears were apparent on your face as you poured yourself a glass of water in the kitchen.

  Joel noticed your discomfort, and he decided to pry. "Ya' look rough." He raised a brow in curiosity. His arm flexed as he stood up with his bowl in hand, walking towards you in the kitchen. He was putting away his dish. You chuckled nervously, thinking back to your scandalous events the previous night. You felt your face grow warm. "Gee thanks." You replied in a sarcastic yet monotone tone. "Just worn out, didn't sleep till like 2."

"Well, that's no good. You're gon' be tired today then." He tutted, sounds of tsk tsk tsk leaving his lips as he internally reprimanded you for not taking care of yourself.

  You tilted your head as he turned around to face you, he leaned against the counter too. He dried his wet hands on his tee. "Today? What's today?" It sounded like there were plans you were unaware of.

  "Daddy didn't tell you?" He crossed his arms as he sighed, looking at you. You both were staring at each other and if you didn't know any better, you would've sworn he looked you up and down.

You shook your head, still confused. "No?"

  Shaking his head, Joel told you about the plan your dad had come up with. "'He wanted me to take you out today, says you can't be home for a couple hours." You were confused, why couldn't you be home?

  "Why not? Is this work-related?" You asked, knowing if it was, you would go with Joel no questions asked. You would've gone with him regardless.

  He nodded a nod of affirmation, clearing up your doubts. Your father would have people over to discuss business or to give things to people and he didn't want you around for it, valid. You sighed, wanting to have a lazy day, but you didn't complain.

  "Where are they, anyway?" You noticed how you hadn't seen them all morning.

 "They had to run out and grab a few things f' the meeting." It annoyed you how your parents would always meet with smuggling clients in your own home. Whatever.

He had told you to go and get ready and you obliged. 

  "Where are we going?" You questioned, swearing it would be your last question.

  "Just out, drive around."

  You nodded again before leaving the kitchen. You could barely keep it together. The second you turned around, you bit your lip to stay quiet, afraid that you would scream if you didn't. He had that effect on you. But you were unaware of the way Joel adjusted his jeans as he watched you stride back up the stairs in those tiny shorts. 

  You took a quick shower, slipped on a pair of jean shorts and a white t-shirt that was a size too small for you, because God knows your true intentions with Joel. You paused in front of the vanity that lay across the foot of your bed. You brushed your hair down and smoothed your shirt. You just wanted to look good for him, was it a crime? As you trotted back downstairs, he looked up at you from the couch and bit the inside of his cheek. You almost missed his action, but you didn't as you bit back a sly smile.

  His eyes shifted around the room before he stood up and grabbed his flannel. You both stepped out to the front door to slip on your shoes. You clung onto Joel's arm for stability as you put your boots on, he clenched his jaw. He had to control himself. Joel unlocked his truck and opened the passenger side door for you, what a gentleman. Before you knew it, you both were off.

  A CD played quietly as you both wallowed in comfortable silence, it was a silence you'd grown to love and look forward to over the years. He wasn't a very vocal person, but you didn't mind that. The windows were open and the sun beamed down onto your face, illuminating your features softly. You looked over to Joel who had one hand on the wheel and the other out the window. He looked tantalizing, provocative, almost. The way his jaw was clenched, how the top two buttons on his shirt were unbuttoned, how he looked so concentrated as his chest rose and fell, the way his hair got all fluffed up by the wind, the way he tapped his fingers on the wheel to the beat of the song. His fingers. Those same large fingers you'd dream about. The scene was almost pornographic, you wanted to scream.

  You ogled him, and it didn't go unnoticed. He peeked over at you and then looked back to the road. "What?" You heard him, but you weren't listening. His words sounded like muffled noises as you waded in your explicit daydream. Joel put his left on the steering and waved his right in front of your face. That snapped you out of it.

  "Oh, yeah. Sorry-" He raised a brow and you stared at him, a sultry stare. "Just tired," You gave a half-assed answer, hoping it would please him. Looking back down into your lap, you smoothed down your shirt.

"What're you doing up so late?" he interrogated. It put you in a weird spot. You obviously couldn't tell him what you were actually doing, so you tried your best to tell as much as you can. You would always try to avoid lying to Joel, partially because it made you feel bad but mostly because he could tell. He could read you and your body language too well.

  "I don't know. It gets lonely, and I can't sleep. You know, the norm'." You chuckled softly, but you weren't lying. It really does get lonely and there's not much you can do about it. And you've struggled with sleep recently, insomnia creeping up on you with age. You've mentioned it before, but not how it keeps you up for hours.

  "You gotta take care of yourself. You're not... a kid anymore." he huffed, he wouldn't say it out loud but he felt this urge, an urge to take care of you and keep you under his wing forever, keep you his girl forever. But he can't do that, can he? How could he feel this kind of way towards his best friends daughter? He would catch his eyes loitering over you when you emerged from your bedroom in your shorts and tee, and he could feel his heart beat every time you looked up at him with soft eyes, thanking him for whatever gesture he'd do for you. Because that's all Joel did, help help help, give give give. Joel felt something for you in a way he didn't think was possible for him ever again. He felt ashamed  in the best way possible.

"I've got you, don't I?" You joked, snorting a bit. You peered over at him to see his reaction. His jaw clenched as he forced out a tiny smile ."Uh huh, yeah." 

  -----

Joel had pulled over for a bit to take a break. You were on some empty bridge over a lake, the scenery was beautiful. He had brought water, which you very desperately needed. The summer heat seared your skin, moisture droplets pooling in the dips of your body.

Your hands found their way to the cupholder by Joel's thigh. Although you wanted to place your hand on his leg and inch it higher, your controlled your urges and grabbed the water bottle instead of his dick. You unscrewed the cap, tilted your head back, and opened your mouth to waterfall the water into your mouth. Joel observed the way you licked your lips before drinking, the way your throat bobbed up and down upon swallowing, the way rogue droplets of water trickled down the corner of your mouth down to your throat, and if they were lucky, into your shirt and onto your chest. You peeked over at Joel. You almost choked on your water after seeing he was staring. A lightbulb flickered above your head as you had what seemed like a great idea. You "accidentally" spilled water onto your shirt and watched it cling to your breasts, the color of your bra fading in slightly.

 "Ah shit. I'm sorry-" you apologized before Joel grunted and mumbled incoherently before lifting himself off the seat and reaching into the backseat over the center console. His shirt lifted slightly, revealing the waistband of his boxers under his jeans. He grunted again while he grabbed something and gave it to you, a rag. You thanked him and watched him as your rubbed it against your chest. You decided to have a little fun with it, make it antagonizing, painful. His eyes met yours and he watched as a twinkle of mischief appeared. You hands squeezed the rag as you rubbed it against your body, slowly.

It angered Joel. It angered him in a different way. It angered him to see you sitting here, driving him up a wall when he'd rather he fucking you against one instead. He was angry at the world for making this beautiful girl in front of him his best friend's daughter. What he wouldn't give to just grab your face.

 You held back a smirk as you placed the rag on Joel's lap after finishing "drying" yourself. It wasn't very dry obviously, but it was good enough. Still not done, you picked up the bottle again. But this time, you put your mouth on it. Your blushed lips wrapped around the head of the bottle as you took one last gulp as Joel watched your throat bob.

 You left a hefty amount for Joel as you pulled it away from your lips, the smallest string of spit connecting to your lips and the bottle. Bringing it back down to hand to him, you bit the inside of your cheek. You noticed how his eyes were already on you before you looked, it made you swell with hope and delusion. But you weren't crazy. He was looking, staring, scanning, analyzing your every move. It was a habit of his, something he'd learn to do when his life was always in danger. But he used it for other purposes, like looking at the beautiful young woman next to him.  

He took the bottle from your hand with no words exchanged, your fingers brushing against his momentarily. The contradiction between both of your fingers was almost electric, your soft fingers against his rugged digits, your petite hand against his broad one. His eyes found yours again. He decided to play your little game with you. He watched you intently as he wrapped his lips around the bottle, the bottle you just had your mouth on. His free hand gripped the rag you tossed at him. 

He enjoyed this little game you played with him, and this wasn't the first time either. The amount of times you'd brush your knee against his, graze your fingers against his shoulder, look at him pathetically when you were bored. And now that he had the chance to reciprocate it without anyone around, he felt like he could have you wrapped around his little finger. It felt wrong, but he couldn't care less.

 You clenched your thighs together as you watched him wrap his chapped lips around your spit-ridden bottle. Did he know what he was doing to you? 

Deciding to have mercy on you, he put the bottle back down in the cupholder. Joel got out of the car, his excuse being to get some fresh air, but in reality he needed to adjust his half-hard cock. You threw your head back in the seat and splayed your arm across your face while something between a sigh and a groan exuded out of you. Your thighs instinctively rubbed together in hopes to soothe the dull ache forming. This was probably the hottest thing you've experienced in your entire lifetime, which you thought was embarrassing. Being 22 and a virgin having done absolutely nothing, but Joel having experience made it all the worth while. You would always imagine that he'd take care of you, teach you the ropes, show you how to touch yourself while-

"What happened t' you?" Joel interrupted your thoughts as he popped up at your window. You jumped took your hand off your face, looking to him as your thighs stopped moving. 

"Jesus, Joel." You shook your head, a hand resting on your chest.

 "Didn't mean to scare ya', pretty." 

Pretty. 

He must've noticed your reaction with the way he chuckled. It was a deep, guttural sound. He walked around front, grabbing his aching back to get back in the driver seat as you sat up in the seat, embarrassed, somewhat turned on, and ready to go home. Joel glanced at his watch before starting up his truck once more. 

"Your daddy should be done now," was all he said before you both drove off to your place of shelter.

 ----- 

That evening was pretty uneventful. After Joel brought you home, you had thanked him with the softest smile and the most twinkling eyes you could conjure up, your last attempt to rile him up. You went up into your room to take a nap until dinner, assuming it would just be you and your parents tonight.

 However, that was not the case. Joel was there, he stayed for dinner. On a normal occasion, dinner with Joel made you all giddy and excited, but not today. Not after you saw how Joel reciprocated your stupid little game. It made your stomach churn, in both a good and bad way, you couldn't decide.

 At the little circular dining table, Joel took a seat next to you, your mother next him, and your father next to her which brought him seated right next to you. You couldn't help it as your leg bounced, a form of excitement settling in.

 Dinner started off normally, passing around food as your father made conversation to Joel about the meeting. Your mother would occasionally include her input, which left you sitting there all quiet. 

"He wants to meet again next week. Both of us." Your father voiced to Joel as he nodded, his eyes flickering beside him to look at you. They went on, talking about god knows what and junk you couldn't care less about.

 In a world like this it was easy to feel neglected, unseen, lonely. Even with all these people surrounding you. So when your lip twitched while you poked at your food, Joel noticed. He interrupted your dad and mom to reel you into their conversation.

"We had fun today." Joel sounded. His voice was so gruff yet so smooth. "Me and you, right?" He looked up at you through his eyebrows, a thin grin falling upon his lips as he remembered your events of the day.

Caught off-guard, you lifted your head up and looked around the table to see all eyes on you. "Hmm? Oh, yeah. Was a beautiful drive." You couldn't care less about the drive, Joel was the only beautiful thing in your eyes for miles. 

"Is that right, sweetie? I'm glad it wasn't boring. She didn't bother you, did she Joel?" Your mother smiled warmly at you before turning her attention back to Joel, who seemed to be thinking, reminiscing. A smirk played onto his face as he stared at you and then her. 

"Shes a good girl. Not too much." He told her playfully. But he lied, you got him all hot and bothered. 

-----

Dinner felt like an eternity. You couldn't even hold your appetite the way Joel made you feel. You wished for it to be over so you could just lock yourself in your room till morning. It felt like a dream, the whole day was absolutely unreal in the best way possible. To make your day even longer, your mother had offered to let Joel stay for the night, again. It's not like he had anywhere better to be. He was like a permanent fixture in your home, he had that designated guest room next to you and everything. 

You finished your dinner as soon as possible and tried to leave upstairs when your mother stopped you. "Be polite, could you please clean up the dishes?" she asked you, slightly jerking her head towards Joel to tell you to be a nice host. You spat out a smile and a slightly annoyed nod before you got up to collect plates. Instead of going to Joel first, you picked up your dad's, then your mother's and then Joel's. You leaned over by his shoulder almost into his lap, giving him a slight view of your breasts. He was so close to you, you could smell him and he could smell you. His jaw twitched as he started to grind his teeth. His breath was shallow and he had no expression on his face. Your hair brushed his shoulder as you got back up, giving Joel a cute little smile. He smiled back, but it wasn't genuine, you could tell. He adjusted the napkin on his lap, attempting to hide something. 

You turned around and walked back to the kitchen with a little pep in your step, ecstatic that you almost made him break. As soon as you were in the kitchen and away from the table, you let out a snort. Humming, you rinsed and washed each dish slowly, taking your sweet, sweet time. That was until someone had found their way to the kitchen, and that someone was Joel. 

You decided to pay no mind to it and continue washing. He grabbed your shoulder and spun you around, causing you to let go of the dish into the sink. With soapy hands, you balanced yourself by grabbing the ledge behind you.

 "The hell ya' think you're doin'?" His expression was unreadable. His teeth were clenched and his brows were furrowed. Even in a moment like this, when his body is almost pressed against yours and your back is digging into the edge of the sink, you still couldn't help but notice how good he looks. The wrinkles and smile lines against his sun kissed skin show cased his life, his experiences, his hardened past.  

"What are you talking about?" You shook your head and lied, this was fun. You crossed your wet arms, once again wetting your shirt. 

"Oh please. Ya' think I don't know what you're tryin'? Pickin' up the dishes, the water bottle, the shirt. I might be old, but 'm not stupid, darlin'." 

Darlin'. You swore if he called you anything else besides your name you would tie your hair up and get on your knees now. You just snorted before turning back around to finish up washing the dishes. Your ass was ghosting against his crotch. He took a step back, angrily. "Joel, please. I haven't done anything. Think your just imagining shit." All you heard was a scoff before he exited the kitchen, and you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

 -----

Around 12 A.M, you were up in your room in a short nightgown, reading some book to get your mind off of things. Today's events were wayyy different than any other interaction with Joel, it kind of excited you. Knowing he was next door just made you more nervous, yet excited.

God you were so turned on, so so riled up. Assuming Joel was asleep, you had tossed your book to the side of your bed and settled against your headboard comfortably. The walls were thin, you knew that. But Joel was an older man, he would sleep through anything. That's what you convinced yourself as you slipped your hand back between your thighs, rubbing softly just like the night before. Soft mewls filled your own ears as the familiar burn in your stomach formed, your fingers rubbing harsh circles on your clit. Taking it further, your slipped a finger inside, a pant leaving your lips. 

"Shit... Joel.." You tried so hard to whisper, and you thought you did, until someone knocked on your door. You stopped dead in your tracks, the noise startling you. There was another knock, a bit louder. You slipped out of bed and wiped your sticky hand off on a towel that was hanging on your closet door before going up to open the door. 

For fuck's sake. It was Joel. This made your heart sink slightly, what if he had heard? Why was he even awake? Before you could even open your mouth to question him, he pushed past the half-cracked door and shut it behind him, locking it as well. 

"What the hell, Joel?" you inquired, angry that you were interrupted and embarrassed to be standing here in your short little nightgown. It made you feel childish. 

He didn't say anything, just studied you up and down before taking a step closer, like you both were in the kitchen, bodies pressed up against each other. "Trouble sleepin'?" His face was hard to read. He looked.. amused? You shook your head in disbelief, trying to come up with an answer. As you opened your mouth to answer, he cut you off. "'F you're gonna lie to me, don't bother speaking," You closed your mouth quickly, caught off guard. Bingo, he got you there. He looked smug, smug that he finally was getting you back after all those times. He leaned down and in, his face right in front of yours with your breaths swirling together between your lips. He moved again, this time leaning into your ear to whisper, "Because we both know what you were doin' in here. Right? Touchin' yourself, moanin' my name, you think I couldn't hear you? 'M surprised the whole house didn't wake up to you sayin' my name like that." This was the most he's ever said anything to you in one go. So he did hear you, he heard you all those nights youd fantasized about him fucking you into oblivion. Your face flushed hot. Incredibly humiliated, you looked down, staring down at your bare toes as Joel kept his lips near your ear. "What happened to that confidence, girl? What about that stunt you pulled in front of your parents? Where's that little loud mouth?" He chuckled dryly as his rough, large hands found their place at your chin. Those same hands you'd fantasize about were holding your chin between two fingers and lifting it up to look Joel in the eye. "Poor girl... she's 'mbarrassed..." was all he said before holding your hand and leading you to the edge of your bed.

He sat down on it with legs slightly spread as he patted his lap, gesturing you to sit. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod, was all that ran through your head as you sat on his lap, back flush against his chest as you both were facing your vanity. From the reflection of the mirror, you could see Joel smiling, brushing hair behind your ear. He was tantalizing, slow, and it was killing you. You wanted him to put his hands anywhere he wanted, but he's being careful, precise. Getting impatient, you let out something between a whine and a Joel. He was amused. You started to grind on him in a pathetic attempt to tarnish that familiar ache in your lower belly. With a laugh, Joel's hands found their way to your knees, spreading them apart while he made sure you were watching in the mirror. Your dim, warmly lit room cast an orange tint over you both, Joel's silver hair glistening in it.

He spread your legs open and flipped your gown up above your hips, revealing your cotton panties underneath. If you knew this would've happened, you would've worn something cuter. You looked away from the mirror, embarrassed for what felt like the hundredth time tonight.  

He noticed your embarrassment and your attempt to hide it.

"Well aren't these cute." He said, talking about your untouched, white panties. 

"Oh please." You slightly rolled your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek as you looked down to his hands that traced lines up your bare thighs and to your core. He stopped touching you and you looked into the mirror to make eye contact with him. 

"You gonna gimmie an attitude? 'Cause I'll leave you here all hot 'n bothered, just like you did to me." 

"No, I'm sorry, Joel please," you whined, he had you begging before he barely even touched you. 

"You gonna be good?" 

"So good." That was all you whispered before Joel split your legs apart farther while his left hand wrapped around your stomach, both keeping you in place and keeping your nightgown up. His right hand settled between your wide legs, messing with the hem of your panties before simply pushing them to the side, revealing your glistening cunt. 

A satisfied, mmh noise left Joel's throat his middle finger prodded around, gathering slick between your slit and dragging it up to your clit. You gasped, the feeling being much better than you could ever dream of. His fingers rubbed up and down your folds, his thick finger softly rubbing your clit in small circles.

You could see it all, see your cunt and his finger wet and glistening, see the way his jaw clenches as he watches himself touch you, you could see it all in the mirror. You saw the way his middle finger disappeared inside you and re-appeared before it disappeared once more. You saw the way your mouth fell into a loose 'o' shape as his thumb simultaneously prodded at your clit. 

As the pressure built up in your lower belly, Joel added his ring finger. You clenched around him as he curled his fingers inside of you, thumb still on your clit. You looked away from the mirror, unable to stay focused as the the wet squelching filled your ears and you stomach burned. 

He let go of your stomach and brought his hand up to your face as the gown flipped back over his hand fucking into you, gripping it harshly and turning it back towards the mirror. "Keep watchin'." He was stern, you were aware of that by the way squeezed your face before letting go, flipping your gown back up. All of this while simultaneously fucking you with his fingers. It was magical. Your own fingers never felt this way, they didn't make you squirm like he did or make you whine as loud. They didn't make you cum like this either. Your moans got higher as his fingers pushed in and out of you faster, your orgasm approaching. You squirmed so much, so Joel's left hand held you in place tightly. His grip almost hurt. 

"'S alright, let it go baby." He mumbled so quietly you almost missed it. 

Feeling it upon you, you almost yelped, but Joel clapped his left hand over your mouth and held it shut tightly, your moans disappearing into his palm. Your jaw went slack as the knot in your stomach unraveled, coating Joel's fingers white. He let out a satisfied hum as he rode out your orgasm, your legs shaking ever so slightly. It was intense. Your head was reeling as Joel prompted you to look at the mirror, and you did. You saw yourself on his lap breathing heavily and a mess on his jeans and fingers. He wiped his fingers off on his jeans before holding both your shoulder and helping you up, holding you while you found your balance. 

You gripped on to his arm while he stood in front of you, smoothing down your gown. You peered up at him through your lashes and he looked down at you. You felt like you had to do something for him after he did this for you, you had to help him out too, right? Assuming so, you got down on your knees while keeping eye contact the whole time. As soon as your knees hit the cold floor, you held onto his calves and peered up at him. 

"I've never... never done this before." You bit your lip as your face turned red with that confession. He laughed dryly, rubbing one of your cheeks with his thumb.

"Oh get up." He held you by your shoulders and brought you back onto your feet. "'S your first time, 'm not gonna make you do that. Maybe next time." He continued to chuckle. 

Next time. 

Joel had pushed you back onto the bed softly, the back of your knees hit your plush sheets. You plopped onto the bed with your knees supporting you up and your legs hung off the edge as Joel slotted himself between your knees. He just gazed upon you, watched the way the warm light lit up your cheeks. You did the same, you watched his hungry eyes dart up and down your body, the way his white hair lay all messed up, the first two buttons on his shirt unbuttoned and his shoulders hunched and probably aching. His hands found the edge of your nightgown and he pulled it over your head and tossed it to the side, drinking in your beautiful body. He ran his hands up and down your soft skin, remembered every curve and dip. 

You couldn't wait any longer. Panting heavily, you grabbed the his belt and pulled him down so your hips were touching. You squeezed your thighs together to relieve the feeling that was building up once again. 

"So eager." Was all he mumbled before he was undoing his belt and slipping his jeans down to his knees, revealing his boxers and his hard bulge. Just by the looks of it, he was huge. There was a small wet patch on his boxers where his precum leaked out. Your mouth hung open as Joel watched your face while he slowly pulled down his boxers. It wouldn't fit. No way. He was too fucking big. It sprung out and slapped against his stomach, curving ever so slightly to the left. Not only was it long, it was thick too, it would definitely hurt. 

"It won't fit, no way. I've never done this before, Joel there's no way it'll-" he cut you off.

"We'll make it fit." That had shut you up. Whatever Joel said, goes. You didn't dare talk back to him now, not after seeing what he could do to you. With his knee, he pushed your knees apart and cupped your cheek with his gruff hand. He just watched you as he bent over, cock brushing against your bare, sticky thigh. You laid on the bed all sprawled out, heavy breath and messy hair, ready to do whatever Joel wanted you to. 

Lodging the tip of his cock inside you, he held onto your waist with one hand while he used his other to support himself up. 

"Pleaseee Joel." You pleaded, not being able to wait anymore. He didn't need anymore convincing. He practically hurled himself forward, thrusting inside of you as his cock stretched you out painfully. Your instinct was to clench around him to ease the pain but it didn't help. You were squirming and whimpering, the pain felt like you were being split in half. Joel grunted as he slipped inside. You were pulsing around him impossibly tight. 

Joel cinched his brows and grunted as you tightly wrapped around him. "Relax. Relax b'fore you- kill me." He was referencing to how tight you were, your back arching off the bed. Joel's hand found its way to your clit, rubbing soft circles onto it to try to get you relax. It helped enough, enough for Joel to start moving. He set a merciful pace to start you off slow, it being your first time. 

"Shit, squeezin' me so tight." Joel grunted out as he pulled his hips back and slammed back into you, punching all the air out of your lungs. He began to speed up, the tip of his cock reaching that spongy part inside you. He stretched you out wide and the pain slowly converted to pleasure. You mewled out loudly, holding on to the thin sheets of your bed. He had grabbed the backs of your knees and brought them up to your chest, this new angle had him reaching deeper than before. 

"Fuckfuckfuck Joel.. Joel." a mantra of Joel's escaped your pretty lips loudly as he nailed into you hard. Maybe you were a little too loud because Joel's hand found its way back to your face and was clasped over your mouth again. 

"Shut up. What would your daddy say if he saw you clenchin' around my cock and screamin' my name like that, hmm? Not such a good little girl anymore, are ya'?" He taunted. You wanted to swat him away and reprimand him for embarrassing you like that, but the feeling of his dick hitting your cervix made you forget about everything else in this world. Each thrust pushed all air out of your lungs and all thoughts out of your brain as Joel would mumble some incoherent praises, telling you how good you were doing. 

He only sped up, thrusting in and out while he kept his hand over your mouth. Your moan were muffled and Joel's deep groans and the sound of skin slapping was all that could be heard. It was obscene. You couldn't last any longer, not with the way he was holding your legs up to your body and definitely not with the way his cock was buried inside you. That familiar knot built up inside you once more, threatening to snap with every snap of Joel's aching hips. He could feel it, he could tell you were close the way you pulsed around him. So he sped up, sped up to a pace you didn't even know was possible as you came. You came all over his cock, a white ring forming around it as he kept fucking it out of you. 

"Such a sweet girl , so so sweet." He didn't even know what he was saying as he could feel himself getting closer too. Joel didn't stop, he didn't even slow. You didn't have time to recover from your almost painful orgasm as he chased his own. You were so fucked out and he fucked you more, it started to hurt. It was overstimulating. 

"I can't.. 's enough, Joel 's enough-" you choked out. 

"You can take it, I know you can." was all he grunted out as you whimpered back arching once more. Joel's hips stuttered, but he didn't slow. He kept going, abusing your puffy hole as he choked out one last broken moan before pulling out to cum on your stomach. His hands let go of your legs as he gave himself one last tug. Hot ropes spurted out of him and onto your stomach, you could only whimper at the loss of his dick inside you. 

He used his hand to cup your cheek, caressing your sweat ridden face softly. "Told ya' you could take it." You could only roll your eyes as your legs ached and your head spun and Joel laughed. He liked seeing you fucked out like this, his cum all over your stomach and your cunt red and stinging. You were so exhausted. 

Before you passed out, the last thing you remembered was the feeling of a warm towel cleaning you up and Joel's honey smooth voice saying, "Relax, baby girl. We can talk about it tomorrow." 

In the state you were in now, you couldn't even tell if this was a dream. Tomorrow. Would you even be able to face him tomorrow?

----- 

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine Shanks turning into a cat

Benn: supposedly the ruins are guarded by some sort of shapeshifting enchanter.

Shanks: I heard that and asked the locals at the bars and the marketplace, and they said there hasn't been a sighting of the creature in a few hundred years. But they all told me that no one has gone up there in a long time because they avoid it.

You: then is it really a good idea to go there?

Shanks: meh, [waggles his hand side to side] We'll probably be fine.

You: ... count me out, I don't want to risk it.

Benn: you'll lose your cut of any treasure we find.

You: that's fine, I'll look after the ship with Hongo while y'all go into the creepy ruins. [watches them leave]

The next morning

You: [wakes up from someone pounding on your door]

Hongo: [yells on the other side of the door] Wake the fuck up! We have an emergency, we need all hands on deck.

You: [follows him up on deck to see the group that went to explore the ruins looking winded, tired, and dirtier than usual.] What on Earth is going on? What happened?

Benn: The villagers were right, we shouldn't have gone there to attempt to claim the treasure.

You: sounds about right

Benn: Although they were wrong about one thing, the sorcerer wasn't a shape-shifter himself. He changes other people's shapes.

You: oh gods, who got changed?

Benn: [pulls a large Somali cat out of his pack and holds him at arm's length.] Guess

You: ... is that... the boss?

Benn: [does that lipless awkward white-people smile and nods his head]

You: [takes the cat into your arms] Is he lucid?

Shanks: [thoroughly enjoying the scratches he's getting, and purring up a storm]

Benn: No idea, he's been like this for only two hours, most of which I spent running. But Yassop and Lucky Roux are in the village looking for anyone to help us, so we'll have more information soon.

Shanks: [meows loudly, and clings to your shoulder when you try to put him down]

Hongo: as a cat, he's a real mama's boy.

An hour later when Yassop and Lucky Roux return

Yassop: So we found the village historian lady, who had some information for us. She said that he is a cat for all intents and purposes. He can understand us, though, which should make it easier. She showed a scroll from three hundred years ago, detailing how a bandit robbed the ruins of its treasures. For which the sorcerer changed him into some animal, forget which one, but that's not the important part. The important part is that to undo the spell, we must take the treasure back to the ruins and put it back where we found it.

Shanks: [decides this is a great time to ask for food, and makes a chewing noise with this mouth to let you know.]

You: [rolls your eyes and puts him down] Not to interrupt, but Lucky, is there any canned chicken in the kitchen?

Lucky Roux: yeah

You: Alright, follow me, captain. [goes into the kitchen and starts prepping his food]

Shanks: [meowing at you and standing up with his front paws on the cabinet door]

You: [meowing back condescendingly] You know what? I hope that old lady was right, and you still understand me, just so you know I'm mocking you.

Shanks: [bites your foot]

You: OW, fuck you [puts the plate of food on the floor and goes back out on deck] soon as that little shit is done eating, take him and the treasure straight back before he has another chance to bite me.

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon

[lostinforestbound]

Hi! Could I request hcs from you on Rolan being jealous?

Absolutely! I had fun exploring this topic, so I hope you enjoy! This will be Rolan and a GN!Tav. To the people reading, Please feel free to add on to this and share your ideas!

Rolan and Jealousy

In Rolan's opinion, Jealousy is an improper and ugly thing to have; it sounds hypocritical when he gets jealous of a lot of things himself.

It's instinctive; his life has never been fair to him, and he never got to have what a lot of others do. It's deep rooted into his insecurity.

Loving parents? He wanted that, as his own family abandoned him. Food on the table? He wanted that too, why did he deserve to starve? Wizard Schooling? As an orphan, he never stood a chance of getting into one. No matter though, he doesn't need schooling! He's a prodigy!

Gods, he knows he shouldn't be jealous at all anymore, he will have everything he could ever want soon. It's unbelievably petty.

This jealousy starts extending towards Tav without him meaning to.

When they start taking interest in someone else, even if it's a simple conversation, his mind trails into the thought "That should be me."

As much of a loud, prickly person he is, he surprisingly says nothing about it. Instead is stews in his heart ready to burst, but he keeps it together.

Why is he so jealous if they're not even his partner? It's absurd and childish. Especially since he is unworthy of their attention. Once he has everything to provide for Cal and Lia, then he'll be worthy.

If Tav and him are together, it is a different story.

His jealousy is still quiet, but they notice how he holds their hand tighter when they speak to certain people. How his tail wraps around their calf. How he glares when other people decide to flirt with them.

Once he works on his own insecurity and Tav's reassurance that he's the only one for them, his jealousy starts fading away to nothing.

That doesn't stop him from playfully stealing them away from their companions with a "fuck off, they're mine".

Writing Blurb

When did he become such a prickly, bitter person? When, at some point of his life, did he become so jealous? Why is he so jealous of Tav, of all bloody people? Is it because they're a savior? That they saved his siblings where he couldn't? He should be grateful!

So why is he bitter, even though they saved everyone, including himself? Is he truly this entitled?

He doesn't see them approach him as he stews in his own thoughts. Usually he's not this insecure with himself, but he feels unworthy of them. He doesn't deserve them, not yet. The tower is not truly his, he has to refurnish everything to make it all of their homes. Cal and Lia love it so far, but there's still so much to be done.

Files need to be organized. All of the dealings fall on his shoulders now thanks to Lorroakan's demise. There's so much to do so he cannot truly have them yet-

His thoughts stop short when Tav kisses his cheek. "You're still dealing with these people? Don't you think it's time for a break?"

He subconsciously leans into the touch but stops when he realizes they pulled away. "I can't yet. There's too many-"

"You can do it later. Come have tea with me, or would you prefer some wine?"

He waves a dismissive hand, staring back down at the mess of papers in front of him. "I can't, Tav, they're all-"

A hand comes to his face, gently but firmly turning his head towards theirs. They don't say say anything at first, looking him straight into the eyes which makes him shut up instantly. He knows that determined look too well, and his mouth goes dry.

"You know I love you very much, right?" Before he could speak up, they continue on, "I'm already impressed with you. I don't need you to work yourself to death to prove you want to make this work. I love it here, and I love you. You shouldn't have to 'prove' anything to anyone, especially not to me."

"You're a savior-" Finger press to his lips before he finishes.

"I couldn't have done that without your help. Your arcane cannon saved my life that day. I thought I was done for until I called for your help," They state, pressing a kiss to his jaw then lips, "You're more than enough for me. Now, how about some reading and wine?" He closes his eyes briefly before that playful smirk returns, looking up at them. "I suppose if you want me to read to you that badly, I shall."

[gor3-hound]

sneaking out of heaven

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

part one, part two

cw: 18+ content, religious guilt, sexually repressed reader, allusions to abusive parents

a/n: i'm soooo nervous about this one lmao... will be smut eventually, but part of is kinda just... setting things up, yay!! not really sure how to tag this part either, so sorry if i missed anything :// title from the waterparks song of the same name <3

word count: 1.3k words

Growing up in the church offered you the only sliver of normalcy in your childhood. Your father, the pastor, was a strict man. He'd always made his expectations of you clear, and you were not one to go against his teachings. After all, his words were the extension of the words of God, as he had made abundantly clear.

You'd never been to a public school, and living in such a small town meant you were not subjected to things that most young girls were. Your father favoured it. This way, he could ensure his daughter stayed free of temptation. That she would be safe under his watchful eye, and never stray from the teachings of God.

Still, in the Church, you felt at home. In God's eyes, all men were created equal. You felt like you had some semblance of free will, less trapped under your father's thumb. As long as you devoted your life to God, you would be safe. He would provide for you, and you'd be able to leave this town.

This did not mean you did not miss the things that most teenagers got to experience. Fiddling around with the computer your dad allowed you for home-schooling purposes and finding incognito mode was something that instantly fed into your curiosity. Your dad couldn't monitor what you were doing, and it made you feel more comfortable to explore.

You never ventured too far, of course. It was as though you felt God Himself would strike you down if you looked at something you shouldn't. No, all you did was watch teen dramas with your volume muted late at night when you knew your father was asleep. You read the subtitles as you watched, fascinated by the idea of partying and going out. Having fun. Being free.

You couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to speak with someone your own age. This town was filled with old folks, and those who had kids all seemed to decide to have them a good ten or so years before or after you were born, so you were left being the only teenager there.

As you got older, the need to spread your wings and leave the nest only grew. Your father got stricter, roped you into more church duties. Anything to keep your curious mind wandering too much.

That was until the Kennedys moved into town.

Along with them came a boy, only a few years older than you. You could feel the tension in your father's body as you stood next to him while greeting them after they attended their first Sunday Mass there.

Their son, Leon, stood behind them looking incredibly uninterested. It was as if your father could sense what the boy would do to your mind, how he'd plague your thoughts late and night when you were all alone. You shook his hand that day, and that contact alone was enough to cause your downfall.

As you lay in bed that night, you felt the devil claw his way into the corner of your mind. He made his home there, filling you with thoughts that left you weak to temptation. As wetness pooled in the gusset of your panties remembering how Leon's hand felt in yours, you sobbed.

You prayed for God's forgiveness when the thoughts subsided. Apologised profusely for even thinking about touching yourself. The next morning, your shower took twice as long. You pretended it was the heat of the summer, but you knew it was your attempt at washing the dirty thoughts from your mind.

Every Sunday, Leon was begrudgingly dragged to church by his parents. And every Sunday, you fall further and further into sin. Until one day, you can't find Leon as you gaze into the pews.

It bothers you more than it should. You should be relieved. If he had convinced his parents to allow him to avoid church, you'd be rid of your temptation. God had heard your prayers, and he had offered you a solution.

You were not so lucky.

As you leave the church, Leon is propped outside against one of the walls. He's smoking, his lips the picture of sin as they wrap around the cigarette while he takes a drag.

His gaze flicks to you, and he tosses it to the floor, stopping it out with the toe of his boot. He grabs your arm, dragging you to the side of your church despite your protests.

“I've seen you watching me.” He says bluntly, but your brain can only focus on the sound of his voice and the way his hand feels as it lingers on your arm. You blink a few times, taking longer than usual to register his words.

“I-I haven't…”

“You have been, though.” He says harshly, brows furrowing like he's ready for a fight. “Think you're better than me? I can feel you judging me, y'know. I didn't want to come to this shitty town. I know I'm not like you.”

Your expression twists into one of confusion. Judging him? If anything, you were the one that deserved to be judged. You shake your head quickly, your heart beating so hard it felt like it would come out of your chest.

“I wasn't… I was just… just curious, that's all.”

He narrows his eyes like he's trying to see if you're lying. After a moment of studying you, he seems pleased enough with your answer and releases your arm.

“Cool. Your dad just really laid it on to my parents. They won't get off my back. Thought he sent you to keep an eye on me or something.” He says with a shrug, his gaze trailing over you.

“I'm not my father.” The words come out more sharp than you intended, and you're instantly scolding yourself mentally for speaking in that way. You take in a deep breath, looking down at the floor before meeting his gaze once more.

“I was wondering if we could be friends?” You ask softly, your voice shaking with slight nerves. Your father would probably crucify you if he knew you were alone with a boy, and here you were trying to bargain more time with him.

“It's just… well, I've never been able to hang around someone my age before, and-”

“Never?” He interrupts, brows furrowing as he looks at you. A small frown tugs at his lips, and you want nothing more than to kiss it away.

You shake your head softly, embarrassment burning in your chest.

“Shit. Does your old man keep you locked up in the church basement or something?” He asks with a laugh that only grows louder when he sees how affronted you are by him cursing.

He's joking, but it's not so far from the truth. You've been tethered to this town since the day you were born, kept on a leash so tight you could feel your airwaves being restricted more and more with every tug made by your father.

“It's just… I've never left this town.” You say quietly, and just like that, Leon's expression softens.

“You don't seem so happy about that.” He replies. The look on your face confirms his suspicions, but you don't say anything in response.

“Hey, well… I'll tell you everything you want to know.” He says with a smile that makes you weak in the knees.

If God created everyone in His image, he must have put a little extra of Himself in Leon Kennedy. You're not entirely convinced you're not in the presence of an angel. Or perhaps a demon sent by the devil to lure you into a life of sin.

You brush the thoughts away quickly. Leon was a human, plain and simple. It didn't matter what he looked like. All men were created equal, you remind yourself. There was nothing wrong with talking to him.

“So we're friends?” You ask hopefully, extending a hand in hopes of making contact with his calloused palms once more.

“Yeah. Friends.”

[writingwithcolor]

Depicting Real World Religions Alongside Constructed Religions

Maya asked:

Hi WWC! Thank you so much for this blog, it's an infinitely wonderful resource! Do you have any suggestions for how I can balance representation of real religions with fantasy religions, or should I avoid including these together? Does the fact that certain things bleed over from our world into the fantasy world help legitimize the appearance of real world religions? I feel like I can come up with respectful ways to integrate representation in ways that make sense for the worldbuilding. For instance, no Muslim characters would practice magic, and both Jewish and Muslim characters would conceive of magic in ways that fit their religion (rather than trying to adapt real religions to fit my worldbuilding). I also have some ideas for how these religions came about that fit between handwave and analogous history (though I realize the Qur'an is unchangeable, so I'm guessing Islam would have come about in the same way as IRL). BTW—I'm referring to humans, not other species coded as Muslim or Jewish. I may explore the concept of jinns more (particularly as how Muslims perceive fantastical beings), but I definitely need to do a lot more research before I go down that road! Finally, I saw a post somewhere (*but* it might have been someone else's commentary) suggesting to integrate certain aspects of Judaism (e.g., skullcaps in sacred places/while praying, counting days from sundown instead of sunset) into fantasy religions (monotheistic ones, of course) to normalize these customs, but as a non-Jewish person I feel this could easily  veer into appropriation-territory.  *One of the posts that I'm referring to in case you need a better reference of *my* reference: defining coding and islam-coded-fantasy

[This long ask was redacted to pull out the core questions asked]

"Both Jewish and Muslim characters would conceive of magic in ways that fit their religion (rather than trying to adapt real religions to fit my worldbuilding)."

Just a note that while having religion be part of magic is a legitimate way to write fantasy, I want to remind people that religious characters can also perform secular magic. Sometimes I feel like people forget about that particular worldbuilding option. (I feel this one personally because in my own books I chose to make magic secular so that my nonmagical heroine wouldn’t seem less close to God somehow than her wizard adoptive dad, who is an objectively shadier person.) I’m not saying either way is more or less correct or appropriate, just that they’re both options and I think sometimes people forget about the one I chose. But anyway moving on—

Your decision to make the water spirits not actual deities is a respectful decision given the various IRL monotheistic religions in your story, so, thank you for that choice. I can see why it gets messy though, since some people in-universe treat those powers as divine. I guess as long as your fantasy Jews aren’t being depicted as backwards and wrong and ignoring in-universe reality in favor of in-universe incorrect beliefs, then you’re fine…

"I saw a post somewhere (but it might have been someone else's commentary) suggesting to integrate certain aspects of Judaism (e.g., skullcaps in sacred places/while praying, counting days from sundown instead of sunset) into fantasy religions (monotheistic ones, of course) to normalize these customs, but as a non-Jewish person I feel this could easily veer into appropriation-territory."

That was probably us, as Meir and I both feel that way. What would make it appropriative is if these very Jewish IRL markers were used to represent something other than Judaism. It's not appropriative to show Jewish or Jewish-coded characters wearing yarmulkes or marking one day a week for a special evening with two candles or anything else we do if it's connected to Jewishness! To disconnect the markers of us from us is where appropriation starts to seep in.

–Shira

To bounce off what Shira said above, the source of the magic can be religious or secular--or put another way, it can be explicitly granted be a deity or through engagement with a specific religious practice, or it can be something that can be accessed with or without engaging with a certain set of beliefs or practices. It sounds like you’re proposing the second one: the magic is there for anyone to use, but the people in this specific religion engage with it through a framework of specific ideas and practices.

If you can transform into a “spirit” by engaging with this religion, and I can transform into a “spirit” through an analogous practice through the framework of Kabbalah, for example, and an atheist can transform through a course of secular technical study, then what makes yours a religion is the belief on your part that engaging in the process in your specific way, or choosing to engage in that process over other lifestyle choices, is in some way a spiritual good, not the mechanics of the transformation. If, on the other hand, humans can only access this transformative magic through the grace of the deities that religion worships, while practitioners of other religions lack the relationship with the only gods empowered to make that magic, that’s when I’d say you had crossed into doing more harm than good by seeking to include real-world religions.

Including a link below to a post you might have already seen that included the “religion in fantasy worldbuilding alignment chart.” It sounds like you’re in the center square, which is a fine place to be. The center top and bottom squares are where I typically have warned to leave real-world religions out of it.

More reading:

Jewish characters in a universe with author-created fictional pantheons

–Meir

[lucianxxd]

Cyno and the God.

C/W: fictional scenario, SAGAU, third person point of view writting, fake religious practices, gender neutral reader and Traveler.

tags: @desirabletravel

Word count: read and find out.

previous chapter | ???

Chapter 2.

You felt you've been dumped in cold water once you woke up after you suddenly lost consciousness, you are sweating cold still paralyzed at the dirty ground, once you gain energy to stand up, you fall back but your one knee prevents you from falling completely, you breath heavily trying not to pass out again, you look around hoping that someone could help you but the only thing you see was a destroyed, abandoned temple.

Your eyes widen in panic that makes you stand up completely, you look around and hit a feeling of familiarity, you remember you used to explore this ruin, not in reality but in a game, a game that you once became addicted to, but that's impossible, if this abandoned temple only exists in the game, how did you got here?

You look at your palms then notice its tan-skin, you become tense and begin to investigate the rest of your body and slowly put piece by piece together.

'Am I... Am I Cyno??'

You loudly exclaimed in your head. You panic and begin walking left and right while biting your fingers, nor should I say, Cyno's fingers?

"No! This is my body! Wait no-... Wait what??" you stammered in panic by yourself, you have no idea what to do nor what to think "w-wait, maybe... maybe this is a dream??" you said to yourself and finally decided a conclusion in your situation, you look at the entrance of the pyramid and see the desert, you look in disbelief since you've never been in an actual desert before, you tried to remember the map of the game but the image ended up distorted.

You were conflicted by the situation, you can't stay in the pyramid due to a lack of food and water, and if the academia were alarm at the mahamatra disappearance it will take a couple of days for them to find "you", and if you decided to go out, there'll be a possibility that you won't survive in sandstorm and wondering enemies, best scenario you'll find food and water though, you hope.

You groaned frustrated and slapped your forehead a couple of times before calming down, you remember you are Cyno and had a weapon to protect yourself but the only problem is... you don't know how to summon it like Cyno did.

"okay, I can do this..." You said as you exhaled, you close your eyes and continue to clear your mind as you focus, you felt the power of Cyno's vision electrocuted your body but your meditating mind completely turned the pain into a slight tingle, you slowly open your eyes and saw the weapon slowly appearing but you lost your deep focus and you've been intensely electrocuted making the weapon fell then disappeared "great..." you sigh in disbelief.

Despite the danger and fear of dying you completely decided that you have to leave the temple and travel back to Sumeru, while you were traveling, you noticed how scary silence Sumeru's desert was, you never noticed it then while playing Genshin, maybe because you are not in your character's shoes at some point, you now felt guilty for leaving them in the desert when feel like logging out. You sigh then look around to find a sign of life, anything nor anyone except for hilichurls nor any other threats.

While you carry on traveling you started to wonder how you got here again, you know you concluded your situation as a dream but you weren't even going to sleep then, you try to remember but your mind tells you nothing, as you keep wondering absent minded, you've attracted an enemy, you were confused at the noise behind you but before you could completely turned around the Primal Construct shot at your direction that sent you flying, thankfully you weren't injured but slightly burned since it didn't shot you directly.

The machine makes another sound threatening to shoot you again, of course you run since you have nothing to defend yourself, you dodge its attack running for your life like a mad man, you look back and the freaking thing was chasing you! You panic and try again to summon Cyno's weapon, your distress ignores the pain of the intense electricity, you gasp finally manage to summon the weapon under your grasp and in a panic you stiffly swing the weapon then throw it right straight on its eye, the machine dropped as its body went paralyzed because of the electro that went with the spear, you breath heavily feeling your heart beat shakes your whole body, you stand there frozen in fear unable to move until a familiar voice was calling for you

"Cyno!! Are you alright?!" Paimon exclaimed in worry as she and the Traveler quickly went running on where you stood, they looked at you worried as you silently looked at them still in fear of what recently happened "um, Cyno, are you okay?" Paimon breaks the silence when she notices you're unable to respond, you snap out of your mind and your lips twitch as you respond "I-I'm fine..." the only response you manage to voice out "are you sure, because you seem pretty traumatized on Paimon's point of view?" Paimon continues to ask "I'm fine.. really, the thing just scared me out of the sudden..." you answered again trying to sound casual, Paimon and the Traveler look at each other confused "I see, what were you doing in the desert anyways on the day of Nirmaata Ka Din?" the Traveler asked 'Nirmaata Ka- what?' you wonder confused

"u-um, I-I don't know actually..." you said while looking away "huh??" the Traveler and Paimon said in unison "l-look, a lot of things just happened recently and I can't wrap them all in my head and I just... I just wanted to go home" you explain trying to remain calm and casual, thankfully, Paimon and the Traveler understand and offer to go with you. You sigh in relief before you begin to walk with the Traveler.

"so, what was Nirmaata Ka Din, again?" the Traveler asked confused to Paimon while you walked behind them listening "huh!? Seriously, didn't Zhongli already explained to you in a great long, 3 hours details what it was??" Paimon exclaimed slightly irritated, Traveler just scratches their head while laughing nervously "I seem to forgot since-.. you know a lot of things just happened recently..." Traveler said cautiously as Paimon placed both of her tiny hands to her hips while floating, you just chuckles silently finding their bond amusing

"Nirmaata Ka Din is a festival that was known as the day of the Creator and every nation celebrates it in one whole month, some nations celebrate it once a week in the past but Rex Lapis insists that the festival will last for a month than any other festivals to show the Creator how much an important deity they were..." Paimon explains and it caught your attention, Creator? you've never heard there's a high deity in the game name The Creator?

"...both gods and humans must celebrate it and the ones who don't celebrate it, well- umm, Paimon's not sure, there are no single souls in Teyvat that doesn't really celebrate the Creator's festival..." Paimon said "so, it's like a birthday?" Traveler asked "not really, no one actually knew where and how the Creator was born, their existence was pretty much a mystery..." Paimon answered as you keep listening in interest "plus The Creator's festival isn't even a birthday celebration but it's like a call for The Creator to come back, since gods hear and answer prayers the 7 archons established this festival so humankind and other deity got together and pray for their Creator to come back to Teyvat..." Paimon explains, the information shocks you that made you stop walking

"originally it's supposed to make the whole land of Teyvat to pray for the Creator's return but it became something that brought the gods and humans together..." Paimon explains, they began to notice that you haven't been following them, they both look at you confused "uh, Cyno?" Paimon called out "the Creator, who's the Creator?" you accidentally muttered and both of them look shocked "Cyno, are you okay?! you've been acting strangely recently??" Paimon is the first one to react as always, you look confused but remember you are not "you" in this world, you are "Cyno", you figured Cyno might know a lot of the Creator than you, despite you are curious to know who is this Creator you keep your mouth shut for the sake of Cyno "oh! uh, sorry, I can't really think clearly since I feel exhausted..." you lied and again they believe it "oh, I see, you want to rest for a bit before continuing-..."

"no, Traveler, i-it's fine, if we stop now we might arrive at Aaru Village pretty late, I see you two are going to Aaru Village to visit, right?" you bet your whole life in a non-existing gamble to be right "that's right, Dehya wrote us a letter to come and visit Sumeru for the celebration..." Paimon said and continues to explain that Candace is inviting them to her home for the celebration and the others will be there too then continue yapping about the variety of food that be served until the Traveler stops her and brings her mind back to reality

"so, yeah, you were going, right, well obviously you were!" Paimon said after you nod the three of you continue your journey to Aaru Village.

"Traveler, Paimon, it's good to see you two again!" Candace exclaimed after the three of you enter inside the house "Candace, long time no see, how are you?" the Traver spoke, as the three continued having a cheerful reunion, you were standing in the doorway feeling anxious, sure, you've been here in the game but in real time it's just incredible, you didn't notice the door just open and Alhaitham just enters inside bumping you slightly "oh, general mahamatra, I haven't heard from you since hours ago..." Alhaitham said sound concern despite his calm expression, you didn't respond, you failed to acknowledge you've been intensely staring at him for a sec, when you noticed how weird you look you look away "a lot of things happened and I'm tired to talk about.. it..." you only reply pretending to be Cyno as always but deep inside your heart is beating rapidly "I see, have you manage to caught the researcher yet?" Alhaitham asked and you fell silent for a sec "caught.. who?..." before things fell in awkward silence like before Dehya chaimed in the conversation by approaching the both of you "hey, you two, don't just stand there come and take a seat..." she said and the two man nodded, when you took a seat at the table you didn't notice Alhaitham took a glimpse at you in the further left seat of the table suspiciously before turning his head away

"oh Cyno, you're here!" Tighnari said as he walked inside the house with Collie "I just arrived.. w-with the Traveler..." you swear that if you stutter one more time you're going to throw yourself "ah I see, where did the three of you meet?" Tighnari asked again as he took a seat beside him "at the desert, I was just finished fighting with a wandering machine there..." Tighnari looks at you suspiciously "oh, why were you in the desert, aren't you supposed to be resting since it's Nirmaata day, plus you've been experiencing a strange psychosis lately, it really concerns me when you explain it" he said as he looked at you concern, you just look back in confusion having no idea what he's talking about "I-I'm fine, honestly I forgot about it since it disappeared..." you said smiling slightly still had no clue what voices Cyno had been having "oh, that's good to hear then just tell me if it comes back all of the sudden..." Tighnari said and you nodded in response.

The evening goes on and you look around feeling surreal, at some point you started to think this isn't a dream anymore but a new reality set for you, your interaction with the other characters in the game in real time really made you the happiest since you've been dreaming to actually interact with them outside the game's codes, you sigh in relief as you smiled before you felt your mind went light and your eyes is shutting on their own.

Welcome back Creator, may your creations worship you once again.

A/N: Tysm for reading! I know I haven't updated for two whole weeks?? 😭 since stuff happened irl, thank you for your patience, hope you enjoy this recent chapter. I'll be correcting the errors soon but for now I must sleep.

[runesofthedelta]

There's some real funny character stuff that occurs post-no-mercy and into a true pacifist.

Chara seemingly returns to their old self, as the narrator, on that post-geno-pascifist. Frisk still gives their name as Frisk at the end.

The game is actually pretty forgiving about both geno and pascifist. Because there's nothing in either or that suggests that the world has fundamentally changed.

... But Chara, isn't forgiving.

Undertale falls with the idea that the characters are people. It asks "if a protagonist can actually Save their Game in real life, how would that affect the world and its people?", It follows every trope when it comes to RPG monsters, asking "If our hero is so heroic, what about all those monsters they slaughtered by the hundreds to get to the end?"

Its a deconstruction on the ideas of RPG. Most of the time, it reconstructs just as well, letting you explore what you'd like and still making it just in time for a happy ending...

... Until you decide to go on a killing spree.

In a reset post-geno, you have only one LV. By the end, the kid we've been playing identifies themselves as Frisk. Chara is still the Fallen Child we name, and is still the fairly amicable narrator.

Until the end.

If we choose for Frisk to leave Toriel (to... gods knows where), the picture we receive has all our "friends" crossed out, and the character of Frisk replaced with Chara.

( This might imply that they went after our friends... but truth is, at 1 LV, shared between Frisk and Chara, they have no killing intent at all. )

Crossing out this picture is a "Fuck You" to Chara. Frisk and Chara finally get a happy ending... but you, the Player? Absolutely Not. Chara won't allow it.

If we choose for Frisk to go with Toriel, Frisk lives with her and can be found sleeping in a bedroom as we watch. Once Toriel leaves a pie slice, Chara turns over and stares at our "camera".

( Still LV1, you can't get the true pacifist run without LV1 )

All this shows...

That Chara and Frisk share the LV. And about after Ruins, in Geno, is where Chara just takes center stage. Only in aborted runs or resets, does the stage return to Frisk and Chara chills out.

That Souls transcend Time and Space. Its the only way Chara would know enough or be around enough, to know what we the player did in a post-geno-pascifist world and ending.

Neither Frisk nor Chara control the Red Heart. We do, the Player. Even though the Red Heart is Frisk's soul, and that Chara is attached to it because Chara is a post-mortem consciouss that should have a Human soul, and persumably, their soul was Red too. ( I would've said that we don't know, because there were other humans... but Chara's speech in Geno specify Frisk. )

Frisk, cannot do a genocide route. At the start of it, Chara takes over right away, and stops talking to Frisk, and starts talking to Us. in every Neutral and Pacifist Route, Chara talks to Frisk. In Geno, Chara takes over, and Frisk isn't a factor. But once Chara gets the Red Soul, from us the Player, Chara will willfully just go back to talking to Frisk. Until we, the player, try to get involved in the ending scene--in which case, Chara takes right back over.

Chara encourages mercy and mischief, when someone is playing the game to be merciful. Very rarely do they interfere with the choice (one known exception is refusing to allow crying), and only in the true lab does Frisk interfere with Chara's set choices... of which Chara will staunchly back up Frisk's reactions from then on.

Even post Geno, Chara encourages mercy and mischief, but this is more specifically pointed to Frisk.

( Because if Chara just wanted to screw everyone, why wait for a geno-play? Why not just do it in a regular True Pacifist... Its because they don't actually want a Genocide. Who does? )

Chara wants to help, and protect, Frisk, as the "narrator".

They read to Frisk, they understand Froggits for Frisk, they give options, give descriptions. (I've got my own personal HC about who exactly is reading the HP, EXP, LV, ATK and DEF, because I'm pretty certain Chara isn't that indepth about monsters they couldn't have possibly met.. but they're definitely the flavor Texts and Descrptions). They kinda translate Frisk for Us the Players, so they do semi-know that there's a third (HC: Or fourth) party here.

( I believe the reason why ties into how the Red Soul operates as a human soul. Free Movement? Prime power to escape nearly any situation? Red Monster Magic about alarms and warnings? Red Text meaning Danger? The Red soul pays attention to Danger, and its first instinict is to Flee--thusly, Frisk is actually a pretty scarred kid. )

Chara's first instinict upon waking up to Frisk, inspite of how much others have claimed that Chara hated humanity... was to help by any means necessary with what little they can do. Especially since Frisk is a scared kid who doesn't know what to do at all.

So when that allpowerful third-forth party comes in, and decides that death by any means necessary is the goal...

What's Chara to do, except, take the brunt of it instead? Let Frisk take the backseat, and Chara does the dirty work so that Frisk doesn't get hurt.

Then Chara performs their ultimatum. They sever our connection to the world, and it stays dead, or we give them the Red Soul.

And upon taking the red Soul, Chara seemingly returns to just the merciful-mischievous narrator, at LV1, with Frisk.

... Only now, they stay with Frisk. And when it looks like that we, the player, are looking at them outside of the underground--Chara looks Back.

They took the red soul to ensure this little kid, Never Gets Bothered or Hurt by Us again.

ADDENDUM:

This ain't the first time in anime fiction where a dead semi-psychotic seemingly soulless spirit, fond of mercy and mischief but also fond of giving those with ill-intent their just rewards, who possesses a younger soul and bolsters and protect them.

Who woke up confused about where they were and what was going on.

Who definitely got themselves killed pulling something that didn't work, and they still had to fix it after they was dead.

Who's actions did result in a friend of theirs becoming a total asshole in his next life.

Who has played both psycho and savior.

And was a royal child.

... And y'know, they just happen to like children's card games.

[antimony-medusa]

Guys, every time I post something about like “you may not realize this but you’re really coming up on a kink here, consider tagging”, as the post escapes my circle I keep getting people coming into my notes like “YEAH I’m sick of those FREAKS in the fandom, get them out” and like that is not what I’m saying at all.

I have been posting things because I think some people aren’t realizing how they’re coming across in some cases, or not realizing that this connection is tropes they’re super into has a specific name. It happened just the other day with someone coming up to me like “wait intox kink is a thing”? And yes. These are all things. There are names for all these things.

I’m posting these things because a) it starts to get rude to take some of these tropes and insist there’s nothing but vanilla posting happening in this fic. In the same way as you wouldn’t show up to work in a bikini there are fic subjects that are rude to drop on people unwarned.

And like, when I hit things I’m not into unwarned there’s a whole spectrum there from raising my eyebrows and continuing to having to click off a fic, but I do not have a moral or ethical problem with people writing family relationships I consider to be suspect. I think you should tag it to be polite but in the same way as I would go Huh about someone coming into my work in a bikini, I think they’ve misread the tone of the room, but they have not committed a mortal sin. I’m not saying that this person who showed up in a bikini is someone we should shun out of the community. God, I have hit legit triggers unwarned for before, and I don’t enjoy that, but I don’t think the person who did this is a terrible person or something. You messed up but you’re still like, fine.

But I’m also posting it because b) knowing that what you’re into has a name can be an experience full of joy. Mortifying? Yes! Especially if you realize that this is a theme through multiple of your works and you had no idea! Ask me about my fucking discovery that I found dubcon interesting and I’d been writing YA novels with romantic interactions structured around uneven power deferentials. I wanted to throw myself into the sea and never write again.

But once I went ohhhhhhh that’s why I found interactions where one person had a dearth of options to be interesting, I could b) not put it in my work unwarned for and not for all audiences c) investigate that theme more fully and decide if I wanted to celebrate it structurally and focus in on it or just include it as a fun highlight d) seek out other works with that tag and see other people exploring that. e) understand the baffling reactions I had going on from people where sometimes I could bring up a story and it would go well and sometimes they would hate it and it seemed random? Connected to Whump? Me trying to do romance was bad? No, it turns out one of my friends hates consent issues and I think they’re fun. You know how much easier that made interactions with that friend?

Like, part of the posting I have been doing is because there are tropes you don’t bring up in polite company. Incest is one of them. Consent issues. Daddy kink. If I was doing these things and putting them in the platonic tag, I would want to be warned that I was doing it. And sometimes the tone of my posts has gotten a bit hysterical because seeing endless waves of this stuff presented as though it’s vanilla can make you feel like you’re in the mirror dimension. *I* know that you shouldn’t be doing that, but everyone around me had shown up to the exam wearing a banana bikini. They are gonna go out into the work world like that. Do they not know? Etc.

But like if you spend enough time with yourself you’ll find you’ve got one or two interests you have to pick the friend group to talk about because people will think they’re weird. Everybody is like this. People are strange and complex. I don’t want to get into pointing and going ahahahahahahah look at that, and I’m sorry if I’ve gone down that path.

I just think that it would be helpful if we use the right words for things occasionally.

[alpaca-clouds]

The DnD Lore Problem - Accessibility and Characters (and how BG3 might not help)

You know what? I am gonna talk about DnD Lore and the accessibility of that lore. I talked about this exessively before. But to summarize that long blog very shortly:

Wizards of the Coasts currently makes the mistake of putting basically most DnD Lore behind a paywall, rather than offering official ressources. This leads to a lot of tables actually playing with their original worlds, rather than Toril/Faerûn, which in turn also means, that they are not spending money on official products. While my anti-capitalist ass things that the lore should be accessible just so that people can enjoy it, I also think that this inaccessibility actually costs WotC A LOT OF MONEY.

Today I want to talk about another aspect of this inaccessibility, that is kinda linked to some of the stuff I talked about before, but also is linked to the things WotC is currently not doing in terms of both Honor Among Thieves and Baldur's Gate 3. A thing, that also might not quite work with BG3, though.

See, the core problem of this inaccessibility is, that a) there is no official place where you can just get base information about the world and the timeline, b) this world has grown organically for about half a century, which lead to clutter, but also to the fact that things are at times showing their age.

I might actually make a post on the gods and religion in the world at some other point - but for now let me talk about something else: Extended universes and access points.

The Problem with Extended Universes

Okay, let's talk about how a lot of the big franchises for the longest time have told their meta stories - including DnD - and how it kinda struggles to find its audience. The extended universe.

I am frankly not entirely sure what franchise has started this. I am assuming it was Star Trek? But that is just a guess. But at some point in the 60s oder 70s someone had the idea that: "Hey, we could totally give the fans more to chew on by making official tie-in comics and novels!"

And that was how it worked for very long. Like a lot of the big franchises had at times around 10 novels and comics (if not more) releasing per year that would just explore other parts of the universe and allow the very engaged fans to... well, learn more about the world. Now, I am not going to talk about all the drama connected to the Star Wars stuff, but if you know, you know.

DnD did this too. (As did a lot of the big TTRPG systems, like Shadowrun and WoD as well.) Having a lot of tie in stuff - in the case of DnD mostly novels - that told more stories on the world and also established like some big player characters within the world. Elminster Aumar is probably one of the best examples here.

Those established some characters that play a big role within the world and also told just more stories of those big world changing events. In the recent DnD history that would be stuff like the Time of Troubles, the Spellplague and the Second Sundering.

Now, here we have one big issue. And one issue where I am not entirely certain where it arose from. But the fact is: In recent years, people invest way less into those kind of books. This is just a fact.

It is the reason why those big universes went from publishing like ten novels a year to often not more than three. We saw that in the failure of the extended Universe Disney tried to pull off for Pirates of the Caribbean (though I will still maintain that another big problem was that they barely marketed that at all - hi, everyone, who did not know there were extended universe novels for PotC). We also saw that with League of Legends, who really, really tried to tell a lot more stories with short stories and then also some novels set in Runeterra, before finally giving up, because most people didn't care.

In terms of Dungeons & Dragons I can totally see that a lot of people will also say: "I do not care what some other people's characters do within the world." Buuuuuut...

Stories actually can help you understand the world. Which brings me to...

The Elminster Problem

Okay, I do not know how to put this, but... If you look at the novels coming out for DnD literally half of them focus on either Elminster Aumar or Drizzt Do'Urden. Characters that have pretty much been around since the very beginning and. Look, I don't know how to put it but... It shows.

I am currently reading some of the newer novels and the fact is, that they do not really feel like fantasy books from the 2010s and 2020s. Because Elminster and Drizzt are very clearly characters originating in a very different time when stories were told very differently.

I mean, just look at Elminster. He is a wanna-be Gandalf character. He is from the early, early days of fantasy and... Look, I personally just really am unable to identify with a character like this.

And while Drizzt is a bit better as a character, but even he... How to put this delicately? They are both very much characters written by white cishet men for white cishet men. There, I said it.

I am noticing this a lot with reading Salvatore's books currently. Like, female characters are not overly sexualized, which is a plus. But they also very much exist most of the time in service to a man or at least in relation to a man. There is not a lot of female characters running around that have their own agency.

Which kinda leads to another thing. I actually saw this one brought up by one of those very cliché nerdy Youtube channels talking on DnD, who recognized the problem as well: There are basically two large groups of DnD players who barely intersect. One is the cliché nerds, the other is a largely queer and largely diverse group. And the youtube guy, who was very in the white cishet nerd group, suspected that actually the later group makes up more of the player base by now.

Buuuut... that is also the group who really do not get catered to by the canon lore so far. That was until 2023 with DnD:HAT and BG3 - both catering actually a lot to those groups.

Honor Among Thieves and the undermarketed books

Okay, here is the thing: Honor Among Thieves had two novelizations (one for young readers, one for older readers) and two tie-in novels. One featuring Edgin, Holga, Forge and Simon before the stuff with Sofina went down. And the other featuring Simon and Doric taking place at the time while Ed and Holga are in prison.

I am honest: I really, really liked the Ed and Holga novel. It was super cute and charming and really gives a better understanding of the characters.

But of course once again there is the thing: The books - just like the Pirates of the Caribbean books - were super undermarketed. Like, most people I know off do not even know that there were books released. Heck, even within the actual active fandom there are again and again people who will be surprised that those books exist.

And... I actually also think that the books waste one big ass opportunity, by not at all tying into the broader lore. They are super self-contained.

And that is actually just a waste. Because the place were Edgin lived in? Yeah, that place was super affected by the Second Sundering. Heck, that might have had to do something with his troubles.

Why is that an issue? Well, because... there was not a lot going on there that was inviting you to further interact with the world and learn more abotu what is happening. For once, again, because I think it is a super fun and interesting world. But also, because... WotC wants to make money and is so bad at it, that it really boggles my mind.

See, here is the thing: They could've used those characters - that really are fun and sympathetic characters - to create an accesspoint into that world.

Alright, so what about Baldur's Gate 3?

Which brings me to Baldur's Gate 3 and the thing that a lot of people have noticed: The other Baldur's Gate games - as well as some of the other games releasing around 2000 - had their own tie-in novels going into the characters, their background, but also what they were doing in the future.

Something that so far BG3 has not done, which some fans have already critized. Because a lot of people have actually gotten really invested into those characters. A lot of the kind of people especially who so far are underserved by a lot of the tie-in stuff: Queer and generally diverse audiences.

Like, I think there would be a lot of people, who totally would read a novel, about...

Astarion getting drawn into some sort of political intrigue in Baldur's Gate while serving Cazador

Karlach's time in Avernus

Some Adventure Wyll got dragged into while being the Blade of the Frontier.

Shadowheart going onto a mission for Shar (maybe together with Nocturne)

Whatever Gale was doing during the Second Sundering

Lae'zel's youth among the Githyanki

The Dark Urge and Gortash starting up the entire conspiracy

... whatever Halsin had been up to in his long live

Heck, people would eat that stuff up. And you could not only use it to worldbuild but also once more create some access into the world and what happened there. And they are kinda wasting a lot of potential by not bringing out those novels.

Of course, there is one big problem: BG3 makes it kinda hard to write about anything happening after the ending. Because as it is right now, someone is gonna be pissed if a novel set after the game does not go with the decision for a character they go for. Like, Ascended Astarion fans are gonna be pissed, if they go with Spawn Astarion - and the other way around. Same goes with every other character where you have those big decisions happening.

This is something they will have to tackle eventually if they plan on doing something with the characters in the future (no matter if we are talking Larian or WotC), but it is definitely an issue that just arises from the structure of the game.

Bonus of course is, that you just cannot define a canonical Tav. But without a Tav, you also gotta act as if the story of the game happened without a Tav, which still is not ideal. I am honestly not sure with how they are gonna deal with this on the long run.

Access via Characters

Alright, but what is the actual issue here?

Well, basically there are two hurdles to overcome for the accessibility of the lore. The first is the physical accessibility - aka, what I talked about in the last long blog post. The second meanwhile is more related to making the lore engaging. And that happens through characters.

It is for me what happened last year. I actually tried to engage with the lore as the movie came out - but only when BG3, that tied a lot more into the actual lore was released I actually found proper access to the lore. Because I had concrete things I could now look for because the game hinted at so much both through characters and major story events happening.

Here is the thing: If you just have the lore on its own, it is about as engaging as reading a history book. Sure, as your local history nerd I find reading history books fun, but most people really do not want to read a history book to engage with a hobby.

People will however engage with stories and characters that interest them. Which is where we get back to the thing I talked about at the beginning: Right now most canonical novels and stories still cater to an audience that is male, cishet, white and also, let's be frank, definitely over 30 years old. Leaving behind a lot of potential fans that theoretically make up a big part of the player-base, but actually do not engage a lot with the lore for this exact reason.

Look. DnD right now is fairly close to being an actual mainstream hobby, due to the recent proliferation of formerly nerdy stuff. And yet WotC is bleeding money, especially in regards of DnD.

If you ask me, sure... DnD should go into public domain. But it doesn't. And given that there are so many creative, skilled people working on this - no matter how dumb Hasbro is and how shitty of an employer they are - I actually do want them to succeed. I have really become engaged with this world now. And I think it is a pity that they clearly do not know how to market this stuff.

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Whatever souls are made of (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Aemond and his wife explore touch.  Can be read as a part two of DIFM or a stand alone. 

Warnings: Mentions of SA (Heavily) Purity culture, internalized misogyny. Aemond’s POV.  Angst. Fluff. As always, more detailed warnings at the end after the dots.

A/N: I do not have the amount of time needed to create my own philosophy, so I took western’s ideas. Title is from Wuthering Heights.

Aemond didn’t believe in soulmates. Whatever the maesters of old had said about them, be it either the same beings separated by the gods or people made from the same substances, it was not real. As any educated young man, he had often wondered what it was that gave humans life. Rationally speaking, there had to be something that set us apart from other beings and at the same time was finite, else people wouldn’t die. Aemond had settled for calling it soul because it seemed to be a sort of universal denomination. It didn’t mean he believed in all the romance related tales. 

Then, his mother had brought him you. 

“Just think it over, darling.” Alicent had said, laying a careful hand on his shoulder. He had felt the urge to nuzzle into her touch, pull her in for a hug, yet he couldn’t. He couldn't because there were secrets on top of secrets all boiling up in his throat, behind his eye, and sometimes he felt so utterly lonely he wanted to scream them all. All the hatred and fear and solitude, out loud and open. But this time, Aemond stayed behind his wall and didn’t speak, merely humming. 

“I have found you the perfect wife. She likes reading, and she is very learned. Dutiful, too. You would never have to worry, with her at your side. She is not like your sister.” And Aemond knew she was not thinking of sweet, demure Helaena. “She is demure and devout, and has the most charming eyes I have ever seen.” 

“Mother…” Because, really, he was not ready for marriage. The idea of having to be so vulnerable again frightened him. Yet at the same time, he craved the feeling of companionship it could bring, if done right. Aemond often wondered if that was what his sister and Daemon had, despite being so awful. They seemed happy. Partners in crime, the wretched pair. He wondered, too, if that sense of companionship was what Aegon was forever looking for in the women of Flea Bottom. If he was never meant to have it, if there was something deeply wrong with him for not enjoying what other men seemed to enjoy like that. 

“Aemond, love. I really think she is perfect for you. You will understand when you meet her, it is as if the Seven made her for you. You two are so alike… As if you were soulmates.” 

And there it was, that dreaded word again. Despite being broken, and missing pieces, Aemond didn’t think there was anyone one in the world that could be his other half. He was alone. He had always been. Yet… If what his mother said was actually true… If there was a woman who shared his interests and was polite and demure… 

“I’ll do it.” The words bubbled out of his throat, uncontrolled. At least this way, he could have someone to talk to. Perhaps it wouldn’t be love, but if the girl truly liked the same things as Aemond did, they could talk, occasionally. And if she was as dutiful as his mother said, his chambers would never be empty again. Because definitely, she would be there with him sometimes, she would sit by the fire and read, or embroider, and perhaps it would be enough, even if they never touched. “I will court her.” 

Aemond has this dream, every so often. It’s not what you would expect, of a dragon rider. He never dreams of falling, or of the day he claimed Vhagar. He should, probably. A normal person would get caught up on what if’s, or even on the events of that night, he will not ever speak aloud. Perhaps, on the pain of losing an eye. Aemond is not normal, though. He dreamed so much of being out in the snow, you might take him for a northern. 

There was a window on the side of the Red Keep. It overlooked the dinning hall, clearly built to allow the common folk to watch their King dine. It has not been used in very long years. Aemond dreams about it often, of standing out of it on a cold day, locked out of his home as his family dines. Of banging his fists on it until the wood nearly cracks. He screams with all his might, but soon the cold is on him, turning his breath into crystals, his blood into ice. Until Aemond is nothing but an empty husk, robbed of soul. And the most terrifying thing about the dream is his family never look up or notice he is not at the table, not even when his cold, lifeless body thumps against the snow. 

I’ll tell you a secret. It was not the pain of losing an eye, what traumatized him. Nor the scorn from the rest of the court. 

“…Thoroughly questioned!” 

“Where did you hear such lies, boy?” 

Aemond knows you can’t die in a dream. He has died on those many times. Yet still, it always takes him an embarrassing amount of time to realize the tears on his face are not frozen and that he is in his chambers. And even then, he feels lost and adrift in the world. 

The day he meets you has to be the happiest day of his life. You come out of your carriage, aided by the ever helpful hand of Ser Criston. His mother is also there, practically shining with happiness. Aemond realizes, then, the whole soulmates thing is an utter load of shit. 

There is no way a woman as beautiful as you could be the other half of his soul. He is too broken, too jagged and dirty to be the other half of someone as pure as you. Aemond will not be able to remember later what color was your dress, or if you were wearing a cloak with your house’s sigil on it. He remembers your smile, the way the sun lighted up half your face, and a pair of intelligent eyes, nervously trailing over him. 

You curtsy perfectly. You say all the right words. And Aemond then takes your arm, and you have to shift because you are holding a book in your hands. It’s a very well-worn copy of Ten Thousand Ships. It’s clearly a parting gift from your family. It’s not often that someone gets to take a book with them in a world like yours. Most nobles families keep their books well locked and cared for, not in the hands of young maidens. When you start to chatter a mile per minute on rhoynar history, Aemond knows he is a goner. 

Aemond thinks of taking you. It will be his right, or so everyone keeps repeating. He spends hours on his knees, trying to erase the sinful urges from his mind. The more he falls for you, the more he wishes for closeness. The more time you spend together, the curve of your neck, your plush lips, they all look more enticing. Yet, the idea of touching another and being wrong halts him. The spell would be broken, then. It would be clear to both of you he is not yours. You would know then he has too many rough edges, that Aemond was not built to love. 

The first kiss you share is on the Sept. You look up at home, eyes warm and soft, but also frightened. It is then he decides he can’t do to you what was done to him. Not only for his sake, but because Aemond’s heart breaks when he thinks of you sporting the same broken look he has. He can’t bear the thought of you squealing in pain, eyes welling up in tears, body left used and discarded. He thinks of Aegon and the serving girl, of his mother, and wonders what kind of man can be so ruthless. 

In his nightmares, you stand facing him, a scar over your eye.

Still, he marries you. The soft balm of your companionship lulls him into a false sense of safety. This must be what heaven feels like, Aemond thinks, as he watches you try and fail to learn and play Cyvasse. It’s all perfect. Until his mother starts demanding a grandson. 

Telling you the truth has to be the most difficult thing he has ever done. Aemond only does because you have a right to know. He has seen how you look at babies, with such longing eyes. And once he tells you, he is astonished at your kindness. You hold him, as Aemond tells you of that horrible night when he was thirteen. Of the feeling of being a prisoner of his own body, unable to stop the situation. Of the shame. So much shame. 

“Your body understands what it wants, my Prince.” Sticky, sickly sweet. Crooned in his ear as he suffocated, as he screamed inside for it to stop, to stop, to-

Aemond doesn’t actually remember how much he tells you. These are the facts. As he boils over, words bubbling up from his throat, you hold him. And it doesn’t feel like you are suffocating him, but as if he is the one clinging to you like a drowning man clings to a lifeline. 

You show up with research a week later. He has noticed your touch becoming more hesitant, of late. Aemond had wondered what that was all about. You had tackled the problem as you often did, his wonderful smart girl. Diagrams, sources, even a speech prepared. He admired that of you, your attention to detail. 

You are too perfect of a being to be his. The Seven must have made a mistake, placing you on his path. But Aemond is too selfish of a man to let you go. 

It’s that thought, what makes him brave enough to step behind you one night, as you are unpinning your hair. He is no stranger to your night routine, after so many nights spent together, talking until your eyelids drop and giggling like children over board or card games instead of performing your marital duties. 

Aemond is careful to let you notice him approaching in the mirror, eye shining in the low light. You look like the Maiden come to life, the light from the fire giving your skin a faint golden glow. Foreign, yet so familiar. Targaryen silver against spun gold. 

“Allow me.” Aemond says, gently taking your hand and placing it on your lap.  Through the mirror, you smile at him, and tilt your head back in silent acceptance of his touch. He is grateful for it. Aemond often needs the reaffirmation that he is not forcing you to endure his touch. He wants you to be kept safe from the horrors he has endured, when it comes to matters of the flesh. Even if that means never touching you. 

Nerves make his stomach flutter. He has found that the first time he touches someone, that’s the hardest. Touch after that, he can endure. He had voiced that to you, once. 

“It’s not about you learning to endure my touch, Aemond.” Your soft voice rings in his memory. “It’s about exploring touching and seeing what you enjoy, if any. There is no goal here, or stages. It’s about learning if you want touch and learning to speak out about it.” 

No enduring, Aemond reminds himself. Seeing what it’s like. A hesitant hand is placed on your crown, getting used to the texture of your hair under his fingers. His hand is big, and it makes for an amusing sight, nearly enveloping your skull. Aemond wonders what it would be like, to be so close there is no flesh, no skin between you two. Yet at the same time, he doesn’t need to wonder. He knows you so well, it feels as if he knows you to your very bones. 

You stay very still, as he plucks one pin, then the other. Your eyes flutter closed, as your hair falls down in a shapeless blob. Aemond stares at it, perplexed. Surely, he has done something wrong. Your hair doesn’t look like this in the mornings, all loose and mussed from sleep.

It must show in the silence that stretches around you two because you laugh and offer him a silver comb. 

“I brush it after. So the marks that the pins leave vanish.” Your smile is kind, encouraging, but also questioning. The comb, it is an offer. One he can refuse if he so wishes. It thrills him.  

The comb strokes soothe him. It’s much like brushing a horse.  Methodical, calming. But better, because it is you. This close, he can smell the sweet smell of the perfume he bought you for your first month of marriage, see the vulnerable skin of your nape. Hear all the sweet little sounds you let out when he scratches the brush lightly along your scalp. 

Aemond decides he likes this kind of touch. There is something intimate about standing behind you, brushing your hair. Something that not even knowing all your secrets can give him. No matter if he knows where all the scars on your body come from or what’s your favorite book. There is something special in the way you turn all soft and pliant with pleasure, in the way you turn vulnerable. Trust. You trust him. This is it, he realizes. What he didn’t know he had lost, that night. 

The brushing stops. You scrunch up your nose at him through the mirror, in the same way you do when he keeps you from falling asleep, or when the bed lacks the number of blankets you like. Adorable. 

“Will you do mine?” He asks, and you nearly jump out of your seat in front of the vanity in your haste to obey him. 

“Are you certain? May I braid it?” It’s very lighthearted, but still asking for his approval. His consent. 

Aemond sits down on the deserted stool. He closes his eye, and removes the eye patch, so it doesn’t get in the way. A gesture that cannot be misinterpreted. Your breath hitches, slightly. Trust. He is reciprocating the favor. 

The brush begins running through his hair in soft, controlled movements. It’s even better than what he imagined. 

“Tell me if it doesn’t feel good.” 

Aemond doesn’t answer. He relaxes under your hands. Whatever souls are made of, yours and his are not the same. Nonetheless, he is keeping you. 

. 

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Detailed warnings: The fic is Aemond’s POV of the aftermath of trusting again a partner after SA. It deals with nightmares, self esteem issues, shame, guilt and bad memories. There is a line of dialogue (ONE) from the actual SA. No descriptions

Tags: @yentroucnagol

[minnielvrr]

Day 6: Creak

Lee: Hyunjin Ler: Felix Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: i hope you guys like this🥺💖 thank you guys so much for your support these past few days, it means a lot to me🫂🥰💞

Tags: @itzsana-kiddingmenow, @lajanaa, @bbybumblelee, @hearted-anon, @lunalattae,

@reginald-stay09, @jungwon-is-the-one

Creak. Hyunjin's body stiffened, cursing the stupid floorboards for being so loud. He paused, listening for any sound, anything to indicate that whatever Jisung had told him was here, hadn't heard him.

The stairs remained quiet and seemingly un-haunted, so with a gulp and some prayers, he took another slow step forward. But after exploring 3 dusty rooms and a sad looking bathroom, Hyunjin finally stepped out.

He took a deep breath of fresh air, sighing in relief. He was safe. So, with a smile curling his lips at the thought of proving just that to his very cocky friend, Hyunjin found himself lost in minutes.

It didn’t make sense. He’d followed the same trail back, so why was he circling back to the entrance again?

A sinking sense of unease settled over him and Hyunjin looked around cautiously as he once more started on the path.

Third times the charm, he convinced himself, but once again, he stood at the entrance of the building.

The sun was still high above him, which was the only thing keeping him from having a panic attack right then and there.

Why on earth bad he taken this trip alone. Proving Jisung wrong was starting to seem like a foolish and immature idea.

He should really have thought this through. Scared and frustrated he was about to see if he could call someone when the device was yanked from his hand by a gust of wind.

It dangled in the air, a whole foot out of reach. He stared at it, frozen. He didn't dare even turn his head to look around.

"Please...," he breathed to no one in particular, pleas and prayers leaving his lips a mile a minute as he squeezed his eyes shut and clasped his hands tight.

He was going to die here, wasn't he? The sinking feeling in his gut intensified, so much so that he found himself hyperventilating.

Oh gods, he was on the verge of having a panic attack. But before his mind could begin to fully process his situation, soft, warm…hands? cupped his cheeks and a deep, gentle voice spoke.

"Deep breaths. You're going to be okay. Please open your eyes. I'm not here to hurt you."

And against all his instincts, Hyunjin shakily opened on eye, the other following soon after when he saw the beautiful boy in front of him.

He had sky blue eyes and raven locks that framed his face beautifully. His pointed ears peaked from the sides of his face and when he smiled at Hyunjin, the world seemed to brighten a little.

The boy’s dark beauty held Hyunjin in a daze, but doubt still flickered in his chest. Could he really trust this stranger?

Yet the warmth in his eyes and the soft words melted away his worries, bit by bit.

Hyunjin listened to the strange boy, following his breathing until it matched the others’. But he still felt the remnants of panic clutching at his chest.

He stared at the boy in front of him, unsure whether to feel relieved or wary. His heart skipped as a playful smile grew on the boy’s face, and before Hyunjin could question what it meant, he was whisked away.

Before Hyunjin could question the smile, the world around him shifted as though Felix had folded the very air.

Colors blurred, the scenery bent in a dizzying display and when everything refocused, Hyunjin found himself standing in a different part of the forest.

Trees surrounded them and he saw Felix standing a few feet away in a pool of sunlight.

The younger hurried over to him , though, when he realized Hyunjin’s dazed state.

“Hey, hey, hey. Sorry, did that startle you?” The elf giggled, the sweet sound bringing about a small smile on Hyunjin’s own face.

“A little,” he admitted, then the racing thoughts in his mind exploded in a single question, “…um, who are you?”

“I’m Felix! I’m an elf.” The younger replied, excitedly. He looked curiously at Hyunjin, waiting for what he realized was his own introduction.

“I’m Hyunjin. It’s nice to meet you, Felix.” The boy beamed when Hyunjin used his name, eyes crinkling as he did a little hop of joy.

“Hyunjin… that’s a beautiful name, fit for such a beautiful human.” He said, matter of fact.

He watched in fascination when Hyunjin blushed shyly, rubbing his neck and muttering out embarrassed ‘no’s and pleased ‘thank you’s.

“I see your still a little nervous,” the little elf noted with a smirk, leaning closer to the human. “I can help with that.”

And before Hyunjin could ask what he meant; a soft, ticklish sensation danced across his skin.

The taller recoiled, swatting at his sides where the tingly feelings were most concentrated. But try as he might, it didn’t do anything to help.

His eyes snapped pleadingly to the amused elf, giggles spilling from his lips as he stumbled and fell back.

Felix caught him easily, waving his hands to create a cotton like bed of fluff that he laid the ticklish boy on.

“Nahahaha whahahat ihihis thihihis?!” He squealed, writhing on the soft material as the elf enjoyed his suffering.

Suddenly, many little fairy helpers fluttered around, their mischievous grins matching Felix's as they prepared their magic.

"Hm you're so...ticklish Hyunjinnie" The elf boy observed, eyes keen and curious as he reached forward and raked his hand down Hyunjin's abs.

The taller squealed, twisting away from the sensation. Amusement brimmed in Lixie's expression, his demeanor shifting from meek curiosity to playfulness as he instructed the flowers to wiggle faster at Hyunjin's sides and armpits, his pinned hands writhing in their tree root prison.

"Fehehehelix plehehehease!" He begged through helpless laughter when everything intensified, but it only made the elf smirk mischievously.

"Our names are a powerful thing Jinnie~ You shouldn't use it so brazenly. I suppose a little punishment is in order, don't you agree?" He crooned, his hands moving to Hyunjin's hips and playing it like a harp.

No matter which way Hyunjin turned, Felix seemed to find a new spot to replace the old, the tickling continuing.

“Plehehehehease!! Ohohoho myhyhy gahAHAHAHAD!! I CAHAHAHAN’T TAHAHAKE IHIHIT!!”

Lix giggled at his shrieky laughter, “I can see that. Are you always this squirmy when you’re tickled, Jinnie? Or am I doing an especially good job?”

It brought back, unnecessarily flustering memories of Jisung tickling him without mercy, using any excuse he could find to squeeze out every last giggle from Hyunjin’s lips.

Felix’s teasing caused a dark pink hue to paint the older’s face, Hyunjin barely yelping out a frantic, “shuHUHut uhuHUHUP!!” before dissolving into full blown laughter.

He felt light headed from the sensations, his body melting into a pile of mush between the ceaseless triad.

The dust and fairy wings fluttering at his neck and ears, the flowers pacing all over his torso and finally, Felix torturously dexterous fingers wreaking havoc on every sensitive inch of his body.

Hyunjin couldn’t believe how quickly the terror had transformed into this bizarre, ticklish torment.

His mind scrambled to make sense of the situation, but all he could do was laugh helplessly as Felix's fingers found every sensitive spot.

“FeheheheliHIHIX PLEHEHEHEASE!! IHIHIHIT THIHIHICKLES!!” Hyunjin wailed breathlessly.

“Hmm…” Felix gazed at the adorable mess contemplatively, then snapped his fingers with a wicked grin.

 Flowers dancing across his skin, their petals teasing and wiggling as they went Felix crouched by his side, giggling softly while he watched Hyunjin squirming on the forest floor.

“Tell me Jinnie, do you still feel scared?” Felix cooed, leaning close.

“Ahahahall ihi feeheeheel ihis tihihICKLING!! shihiHIHIT IHIHIT’S SOHOho bahahahad.”

Felix snickered at his pleas, trailing his fingers gently over Hyunjin’s abdomen one last time before letting up.

As Hyunjin’s laughter began to subside, he lay there panting, barely able to process how his fear had transformed into something so playful and strange.

How was he supposed to explain this to anyone? Not even Jisung would believe him.

He’d probably tease Hyunjin even more, telling him he’d been craving tickles so much he’d actually fallen asleep in a forest to dream it.

“If you need me, you know where to find me,” Felix told him with a smile that contained in it, endless mischief.

Then he snapped his fingers again, this time, leaving Hyunjin right in front of his dorm.

He blinked, wondering how Lix knew but he decided to save the questions for when he would visit the younger.

With a giddy smile, he opened the door to his home and was immediately startled by a familiar, loud voice.

“Holy shit Jinnie where were you?! I was about to call the police!”

Jisung threw his arms around the older in a tight embrace and Hyunjin could only blush, utterly flustered as he told Sungie about how he got lost but found his way back with the help of… a friend.

“You’re acting strange… You look like you do whenever I absolutely wreck you.” The quokka remarked with a smirk.

Hyunjin’s face was flaming as he tried to think of anything but the way Felix’s hands had only minutes ago been wiggling and kneading his sides.

Han gave him a suspicious look but didn’t press, simply bringing over some food and drinks for Hyunjin to eat.

Each week, Hyunjin found himself drawn back to the enchanted forest. It was strange, almost embarrassing to admit, but part of him was excited to see what new tricks Felix had in store.

And after a few times, he even got a chance to tickle Felix, using his own techniques and playful little friends. Turns out, he was just as sensitive as Hyunjin was.