#The Cypher Effect

[cyonikion]

hello? cypher here...

[creativesplat]

Inspired by @zephrunsimperium 's Henchmaniac Ford idea! He's got the gold nail guards and black and gold eyeliner!

[motion90affect]

"Model Of Reality" - Hip Hop Instrumental | Drill Beat | Freestyle Cyphe...

[hasnomoxxie]

So, if the Smile Dip Dog swaps with Bill, did he still destroy his own dimension? A dimension full of colorful talking animals? Because I’ve gotta say, that already sounds even sadder.

Right on the money boss!

Here's how I think it'd go!

First off the zodiac, this initially was the way that the beast was split and banished to the astral plane.

Now that this is here, I can list out all the main swaps hoho!

Dipper ⇆ Stan

Mabel ⇆ Ford

Wendy ⇆ Lazy Jane

Soos ⇆ Manly Dan

Abuelita ⇆ Tyler

Pacifica ⇆ Fiddleford

Gideon ⇆ Bud and mrs Gleeful (little villain couple to rival the stan duo)

Robbie ⇆ Preston

THE BEAST ⇆ BILL CYPHER

The pups are silly and playful in nature, opting to try and make things as brightly coloured and 'fun' as possible. Though this usually results in freakish abominations that do things that really shouldn't be done. Though they're not stupid, they know exactly what they're doing and how it effects others- It's mainly just for their own enjoyment.

After destroying their universe full to the brim of brightly coloured talking animals, 'The Beast' was split into halves and banished to the astral plane. This meant their reality warping abilities was whittled down to being intense illusions and hallucinations, however they typically tend to use it to try and restore their original look when they are seen by people- though that only works for a short time.

Pretty much anyone could theoretically see the dogs, either through extreme meditation or having a suspiciously high amount of sugar in your system. Safe to say, a food company having a suspicious amount of complaints from parents saying their kids are now 'unresponsive', 'babbling gibberish and mysteriously disappearing' or were 'seeing God and He's a Dog' was enough to get the entire line of candy shut down. Mabel was unlucky enough to stumble onto some smile dip during a late night work session and met the pups. They quickly bonded and the pups were leading Mabel to the weirdness left right and centre, with the end goal of opening a 'weirdness rift'.

A portal.

Safe to say, Mabel couldn't do this on her own. She's smart but not- dimensional science smart. So she called on the smartest person she knew, her twin brother Mason. At this time, Mason wasn't really doing as well as he could have, being attracted to the extraordinary he was prone to being the laughing stock of his university- but a solid breakthrough. Money wasn't an issue, especially when Mabel's old friend Pacifica was willing to help lend a hand and be on site (despite lying about her financial security in order to help her friends). So- the three of them set to building the portal.

Due to unknown circumstances, Pacifica leaves the project. When Mabel finally realises the true intention of the portal and tries to shut it down, Mason is reluctant to do this- fearing that it may be sabotaging his last chance at being recognised for his scientific works and being slightly jealous that Mabel found all of the weirdness instead of him. Either way, a small fight happens, ending with Mabels disappearance, leaving her scrapbooks behind.

The project failed and the pups still aren't free, but it's a matter of time before someone eventually sets them free

I'm litterally figuring out the timeline as I write but some things are set in stone. I'm just figuring out how to show it all off- I did get alot of outsite help for this too ^^

How would y'all feel about comics? or animations? What particular scenes? I feel like tackling this bit by bit would be the most effective way to go about it, especially for what the world is like in this flipped version.

I dunno this is my first time doing something like this umm, if this doesn't make sense lmk and I'll revise some stuff

umm

bazzinga, thanks for yer question ^^

[reiderwriter]

Hii! Could you write a Spencer x fem reader, she's extremely confident & forward and Spencer gets all flustered, shy and overwhelmed at how forward she is with flirting with him and complimenting him (even tho he loves it), thank you:-)

A/N: This was such a cute request, thanks for sending it in! I love shy and oblivious Spencer he's so silly and cute ㅠㅠ

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: pure fluff

Word Count: 2k

Summary: Spencer Reid is a genius. But if he hasn't noticed you've been flirting with his for a week straight, he must be an idiot. Non-BAU!Reader.

Warnings: Alcohol intake. Kissing. Slightly suggestive ending.

Here's my masterlist, requests are open! 🎉

Working with the FBI as a consultant on a case was practically a dream come true for you, but what was even more dreamy was the man you got to work with whilst consulting. You’d arrived bright and early, really eager to help with the case you’d been called in for. On the phone, Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner had asked for your help decoding some documents that the team thought had something to do with the Literature you were teaching as part of your course at a local university.

In all honesty, you were a massive fan of detective novels, an early love for Agatha Christie and the Golden Age of mystery making you entertain an idea in law enforcement before you decided that really wasn’t for you, so you were eager to help out in anyway you could fathom.

“One of our Special Agents, Doctor Reid, has decoded most of it, but he says there are some key areas he may be missing and he wants to pick your brains, to see if you can help him come up with something,” he said, guiding you into a small sideroom.

Having previously heard that Doctor Spencer Reid had achieved no less than three PhDs and three additional Bachelor's Degrees in varying subjects, you weren’t quite sure to expect when walking into the room. You certainly weren’t expecting one of the prettiest men you’d ever seen in your life to be sat reading through a pretty thick tome at an incredible speed.

“Reid, this is Professor Y/L/N, she’s here to help you decode the cypher. Professor, this is Doctor Spencer Reid.” Hotchner introduced you, but as soon as you picked your jaw up off the floor, you instantly stepped forward.

“Please, call me Y/N. It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you… Spencer was it?” You smile and stick out your hand. You notice the flush on the man's face and your grin grows even wider as he hesitates to take your hand.

“I’m sorry, I don’t really shake hands, the number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss.” He stutters through the words, almost struggling to get them out, but you don’t falter for a second.

“Kiss me then,” you say smirking up at him and you realise that the other agent had since left the room, leaving you alone with the object of your affections. Ignoring your response, but face tinged such a bright shade of red that you knew he was effected by it, he dives into the facts of the case.

“We think that he’s using some kind of cypher based on some books you’ve been researching recently at the University, which means we think he could possibly be a student of yours. I read through your PhD thesis this morning, and there are certain commonalities that suggest you could be the key to solving some of our unknowns.”

“You read my thesis? What did you think of it?” you ask, moving to sit in the chair directly next to him, scooting it a little bit closer than was polite.

“I don’t have a degree in Literature of the Renaissance Period, so I’m not sure how much value my opinion really holds in this scenario,” he looks at you and you’re pleasantly surprised at how genuine he’s being.

“Well, you’ve seen mine, can I see yours?” you allow the cogs in his brain to keep turning for a few seconds then continue. “I’m sure with three PhDs to your name, you’ve probably got a few research papers floating about, right?”

“Oh….” he blushes again, turning his eyes away from you and doing his best not to make eye contact. “I’m sure I could send them to you after we’ve completed this case if you think they would allow you a deeper insight into any of my fields of study.” He coughs a little to hide the way his voice pitched up as he spoke and kept his eyes trained on the book in his hands.

This consulting role was going to be the most fun you’d had in weeks.

–X–

A week later, you found yourself sat at a bar, surrounded by the members of the BAU team celebrating another case closed, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to fully partake in their merryments exactly. You’d assumed, after an entire week of flirting very openly with Reid, that when he’d asked you to the bar that evening to celebrate wrapping up the case, he’d meant just the two of you. Alas, you had discovered over the week that not only was he the most adorable man you’d ever met, he was also the most oblivious. Impressive for a man with an IQ of 187.

You couldn’t complain too much. Your help on the case had meant the rescue of two young girls, two of your students in undergrad courses nonetheless, so you’d at least made a difference. You had nothing against the rest of the team either, having become fast friends with Garcia, and enjoying your twenty minutes of small ltalk in the morning at the coffee station with Prentiss, Morgan and JJ as well. Hell, you even loved Rossi, who gave off the fun Uncle vibe that you found rounded out the team well. But you couldn’t curb your disappointment still, so you distanced yourself from the table a bit and removed yourself to the bar to grab yourself a new drink. You stayed there for a few minutes to nurse it.

“Hello, beautiful,” the man sat at the barstool next to you leered down at you, “you looking for some company in the bottom of that glass tonight?” He winked at you and your skin crawled. It wasn’t just his creepy smile, and the disgusting way he dragged his eyes over your body, it was that he was also very likely older than your own father. Some people were into that, but you certainly weren’t

“Not today, thanks,” you said, hoping that would be enough to get him to leave you in peace, but of course it wasn’t.

“Hot piece of ass like you, you need a real man to take care of you.” He pushed his hand out and for a split second you were convinced he was going to make an attempt to smack your ass. Before he was able to make contact, and, perhaps more importantly, before you could be arrested for aggravated assault, a hand was wrapping around your hip and pulling you away from the man, your back colliding with a firm chest behind you.

“Y/N, Special Agent Hotchner is about to leave and he wanted to thank you for coming to consult for us. The FBI is always really grateful for conscientious citizens like you willing to help us keep the streets safe.” Spencer turned you around and said, emphasising words to make it clear what his job was, speaking loudly enough that you knew the words were only for the creep behind you who’d thought to lay a hand on you.

“Thanks, Spencer,” you said as the man downed the rest of his drink and made to leave the bar, obviously embarrassed and threatened by Spencer’s arrival. He made to loosen his grip on you as the man left, but you through your arms around his neck, not letting him leave. If this was your last opportunity to make him realise what you wanted, you absolutely weren’t going to let it get away from you.

“I wanted to thank you for this week as well, Spencer. Hotch said it was you that recommended me for the consulting role.” He blushed and stood there a little awkwardly, but made no move to leave, his hands unmoving from your hips. It reminded you of your middle school prom, in all honesty.

“Oh that’s no big deal. It worked out pretty well in the end, though, right, with your students and everything.” You nodded and thanked him again, but you were still pretty reluctant to see him walk away, back to the table filled with his closest friends and colleagues.

“So, are you looking forward to going back home? I’m sure your boyfriend or husband or whatever will be really glad to see you again.” He mumbled and you felt your heart stop for a second.

“Spencer, I don’t have a boyfriend. Or a husband, or any kind of partner for that matter. I’m sorry if I made you think I do,” you saw his eyes widen in panic a little, and you relaxed a bit yourself as he started to talk again.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just assumed that someone as pretty as you couldn’t be single.” He stuttered every single word out, and you didn’t quite register his words for a second.

“You think I’m pretty?” you ask looking up at him and he gapes down at you, realising this conversation is just him shooting himself in the foot over and over again.

“Shit… what I mean is…Y/N you have to know you’re gorgeous, right?” It was your turn to blush then, feeling the sincerity in his words.

“You know, I thought you were asking me out on a date tonight.” You tell him, watching his entire face crumple again in distress.

“But I told you we were going out to celebrate finishing the case!” He spoke in his defence.

“Spencer, what were your exact words?”

“Y/N, do you want to grab a drink tonight? It would be nice to celebrate now that the case is closed and- oh. OH.” The realisation dawned on his face, and you enjoyed the little look of devastation that played out there as his blush deepened.

“It’s fine, Spencer, really. If you’re not interested in me, you’re not interested, I get it.” You sighed, finally moving to let him go, resigned to your fate now.

“Wait, Y/N, that’s not what I meant!” He grabbed you by the hand gently, not quite as close as you were the moment before but still standing notably close. You realised you probably had an audience for this.

“I didn’t realise that you’d want to go on a date with me, you’re so beautiful and smart, I just never thought you’d be interested.” Your brain almost exploded with that, and you had to make a conscious effort to not have your jaw drop to the floor, but apparently the man wasn’t finished. “I just assumed you had a flirty personality, and like, really look at you and then look at me-” you absolutely had to cut him off before he said anything else, so you did.

Crashing your lips up into his was the most sensible thing you’d done since stepping into the bar that evening. He was statuesque at first, unmoving while your lips pressed against him, but he warmed up to it and began kissing you back with equal fervor. You moved the hands that were holding yours to your waist, then moved your own hands up to tangle in his hair, playing with a few curls at the base of his neck.

After a few minutes, you finally pulled away to see a dumbstruck expression on his face.

“Oh. Oh, I see now,” was all he could get out, unable to form more words as he panted into the space between you,

“Yeah? That’s good. I’ve been flirting with you all week, so it’s nice of you to finally notice.” You giggle up at him slowly, and he tightens his grip on your waist.

“What should….what should I do now?” He asked, obviously a little bit unsure of himself, and happy to let you take the lead.

“Well, you can either take me back to your place now, or you could start with asking me out on that date?” He looked like he was seriously weighing up his options for a minute, before he looked you in the eye again.

“Can I do both?”

--X--

🏷️ @w-windyy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @bluecandycake @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @lover-of-books-and-tea @star0055 @daddy-dotcom @zaapsite @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @kat453 @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @alyssaxstan @ghostheartbeat @beguiling3lavender @Casss2111 @zatannas-wand @rebloggiest-reblogger @kspencer34

[mrmousetolliver]

Alan Mathison Turing

Alan Turing was  was an English mathematician, computer scientist, logician, cryptanalyst, philosopher and theoretical biologist and is widely considered to be the father of theoretical computer science. During the Second World War, Turing worked for the Government Code and Cypher School at Bletchley Park, Britain's codebreaking centre that produced Ultra intelligence. He led Hut 8, the section responsible for German naval cryptanalysis. He devised techniques for speeding the breaking of German ciphers, including improvements to the pre-war Polish bomba method, an electromechanical machine that could find settings for the Enigma machine. Turing played a crucial role in cracking intercepted messages that enabled the Allies to defeat the Axis powers in many crucial engagements, including the Battle of the Atlantic. in 1952 when Turing was 39, he began a relationship with Arnold Murray, a 19 year old unemployed man. In January of 1952, Turings house was burgled, and Murray told Turing that he and the burglar were acquainted, and Turing called the police to report the crime. During the investigation, he acknowledged a sexual relationship with Murray and both men were charged with "gross indecency" under Section 11 of the Criminal Law Amendment Act 1885. On the advice of his family and lawyer he pled guilty. In March of 1952 he was convicted and given a choice between imprisonment or probation with the condition that he undergo a hormonal treatment to reduce libido, aka as "chemical castration". Turing opted for probation and began the chemical treatments. Over the course of the following year he was injected with estrogen, causing impotence and for breast tissue to form. In a letter, Turing wrote that "no doubt I shall emerge from it all a different man, but quite who I've not found out".

On 8 June 1954, at his house at 43 Adlington Road, Wilmslow, Turing's housekeeper found him dead. A post mortem was held that evening which determined that he had died the previous day at the age of 41 with cyanide poisoning cited as the cause of death. When his body was discovered, an apple lay half-eaten beside his bed, and although the apple was not tested for cyanide, it was speculated that this was the means by which Turing had consumed a fatal dose. Many question whether his death was suicide or accidental but it is officially listed as suicide. In 2013, Queen Elizabeth II signed a pardon for Turings conviction of "gross indencency", with immediate effect. The Queen officially pronounced Turing pardoned in August 2014. The Queen's action is only the fourth royal pardon granted since the conclusion of the Second World War. Pardons are normally granted only when the person is technically innocent, and a request has been made by the family or other interested party; neither condition was met in regard to Turing's conviction. In September 2016, the government announced its intention to expand this retroactive exoneration to other men convicted of similar historical indecency offences, in what was described as an "Alan Turing law". The Alan Turing law is now an informal term for the law in the United Kingdom, contained in the Policing and Crime Act 2017, which serves as an amnesty law to retroactively pardon men who were cautioned or convicted under historical legislation that outlawed homosexual acts. The law applies in England and Wales.

[ms-nesbit]

batfamily as most recently viewed youtube videos

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alfred: ww2 documentaries, 60s UK punk rock playlists

[indigosunsetao3]

Submission for @glitterypirateduck‘s ‘#GhostChallenge’

Title: Body Heat

Pairing: Ghost X Female Reader (callsign Cypher)

Warning: Canon typical violence, fluff, smut, 18+

Scenario: The heat goes out and it's freezing & Ghost or Reader wakes up in the other person's house/safehouse/etc. after being rescued

Word Count: 2.8k

Your leg felt like it was on fire but there was no time to worry about that right now. The zodiac that you were currently belly down in on the floor is flying up the river but it is rapidly taking on water. There was no way you were going to outrun the helo tailing you, the boat had taken too much damage.

"Ghost we have to bail," you yell out as the helicopter clears the trees from around the bend. "We're not getting to the evac in this."

"Watcher this is Ghost," you hear him come over the comms, "we're four kilometers out from the evacuation site. Boat is fucked, we need an alternate option."

"No alternate at this time," Laswell came back. "Find a place to lay low and-"

The rest is cut off as the helicopter launches a missile that hits the water a few feet behind the boat. It doesn't matter that it wasn't a direct hit, the effect is the same. The aftershock of the wave sends the boat flying up out of the water and you scramble for purchase to try and ride it out.

"Cypher!" Ghost yells out, though it's barely audible over the rushing wind and the gasp you let out as you hit the frozen water back first.

The water feels like a knife stab right to the gut as you sink below the surface. You can barely think as you kick out before flinching at the pain in your calf at the movement, it hurts even more than the knives of cold all over your skin. You stretch toward the surface, your hand hitting a chunk of ice from the flows that were moving rapidly with the current.

"Ghost!" You yell out as you finally break the surface, though it sounds more like a squeak and a splutter as you spit out water. It's too fucking cold to be in the water, you had minutes to get out before you froze to death.

Kicking your legs again you push toward the shore as the helicopter blows past. You turn your head to see if it's going to continue, satisfied with its destruction but it's circling back. Fuck. You swim faster, though it feels like you're trying to lift an extra hundred pounds of weight with each movement. The water is sweeping you rapidly up river but your feet finally hit bottom and you stumble onto the shore.

"This way," comes Ghost's voice as he stomps through the snow and grabs your arm. He's soaked as well and you can hear the tension in his voice as he drags you toward the trees, practically carrying you with your arm slung over his shoulder. The helicopter is coming back and you hear the staccato of bullets hitting the water.

"We're fucked," you mutter as Ghost clears the tree line. You throw out an arm to catch yourself on a trunk before he yanks you onward. "We have to get out of these clothes," your numb fingers on your left hand fumble for your vest but Ghost stops you.

"We have to get out of range," he orders, his eyes trailing back behind the way you came. The snow has messy trenches in it where you both had pushed through but they are tinged red. Your leg was openly bleeding and you'd be a bit more concerned if you could actually feel it. The numbness that you had been hoping for before finally settles in but now it was making it difficult to walk.

"And go where Ghost? We're in the middle of nowhere," you stumble but his hand digs hard into your side to hold you up. "Fuck it's cold," you mutter as you see your breath puff in front of you with each word. "Didn't ever picture human popsicle was the way I'd go," you say with a false laugh as bullets start to pepper the trees.

Ghost drags you deeper into the woods, trying his comms as you both stumble and slip over snow covered tree roots. His voice sounds like it's coming from far away after a bit and you only know he's there because you can feel him pressed against you. His own body shakes hard from the cold and you can feel each involuntary tremble as he continues to tout you along.

"Little more," he grouses and you blink slowly up at him realizing he's slapping your face to get you to look at him. How long have you been walking? How was he still walking? Maybe just a small break, both of you could use a rest, your knees buckle at the thought.

"Knock that shit off," Ghost snaps as he hauls you back on your feet again. "Cypher," he warns as you buckle again, your grip on his body slackening from lack of energy to hold on anymore. Your knees hit the snow and the last thing you see before toppling down further is Ghost scrambling to catch you.

Cold. That's all you can think as soon as consciousness hits you again. Then the pain follows a few moments later and you groan as you shift trying to figure out where you are. Something is holding you back from being able to move too much and you push against it weakly.

"About fucking time," a voice comes to you and you realize what you are pushing against is soft and while it isn't exactly warm, it's warmer than you are. "Going in my report you're sleeping on the job," Ghost says simply as you tilt your head back to look up. You hiss as your soaking wet hair hits your back before his hand comes up to lift it up and away before fixing the blanket wrapped around you to keep your hair off your skin.

"Where are we?" You ask as your body wracks with shivers again and you curl your arms tighter against your chest to try and hold in some heat. That's when it hits you that your hair has hit your bare skin and your hands are pressed between more of your own bare skin. And Ghost's. Was this one of those mortifying dreams when you realized halfway through you were naked?

"Old hunting cabin," Ghost answers as his arms tighten around you, his hands splaying on your back to rub some warmth back in. "You passed out on me, had to carry you the rest of the way," he explains as he looks down at you. His face is free of his balaclava, the eye black smeared and splotchy down his cheeks. Your eyes trail down to see he's also shirtless as he has you pressed tightly against him. "Been out for a good while now, didn't even flinch when I tied up your leg. Through and through shot," he tacks on in explanation.

You shift a bit on him, as if to lean down and look at the wound, when you realize you aren't only shirtless. The blanket scratches the skin on your hips and you can feel his curls against your own pubic bone. You're completely straddling him and tucked tightly to his body in every sense of the word.

"Body heat," Ghost says simply as if he is not fazed by the fact his sergeant is fully naked pressed against his own naked form.

"I hardly think," you splutter as you move to pull away. Just the few inches you create between your bodies sends a jolt of goosebumps down your body and you see the same reaction over his chest. You may be inside somewhere but it was still cold enough to see your breath. The scant body heat you were sharing was not going to linger if you were apart.

His hands slide down your back and grab your ass to tug you tight against him again. You huff at crass gesture before giving in and pressing tightly against him, your arms moving to wrap around him as well. He shifts so your fingers can fit between his back and the wall and you rub at his back a bit. His skin feels frozen and you can feel the muscle twitching in an attempt to generate some warmth.

"It was this or we both froze to death," he says. "Can't light a fire, the helicopter is still circling," and as if someone turned the volume back on in your ears you hear the whir of the blades overhead. "And while you were resigned to be a popsicle, I refuse to let that be the final entry on my service record."

"How long until extraction?" You ask quietly doing your best to not think about the fact Ghost's hands are still on your backside holding you tight to him. Or that you are nuzzling your face into his chest as your fingers dance over small ridges and valleys of scars on his back.

"Not sure," Ghost answers as he looks down at you. "Johnny is going to have a field day when he finds us," he smirks at the thought which only makes you groan a bit. "I mean you can put on the soaking uniform if you want," he inclines his head at the red tinted snow fatigues.

"No," you answer quickly. Even now, the places where your skin isn't touching Ghost's are frozen, you can only imagine trying to put those back on. You shift a bit on him trying to find more skin, more warmth, to burrow into. He flexes his grip on you for a second before sliding his hands slowly up your back to your shoulder blades. It's a soft gesture and you feel yourself arch to it despite yourself.

"Just for the warmth Sergeant," Ghost says after a second, obviously feeling the subtle shift of your body.

"Right, of course," you answer back. If you could see yourself you knew you'd be bright red. "Sorry, I didn't mean," you continue before Ghost adjusts himself and you realize he wasn't admonishing you. He was saying that however your bodies were acting it wasn't your fault. You were pressed in a compromising position because you needed the body heat and you couldn't help what was happening outside of that.

You swallow as you both sit in the silence, listening to the helicopter circle overhead. How many times have you thought about this? Perhaps not this exact scenario, but getting Ghost alone and his body pressed against yours. It was a thought that kept you company many nights, different situations that always ended up with you panting under him. He barely paid you any mind aside from the job so it was just a fantasy that occupied your lonely mind to pass the time.

Yet, you could feel him pressed up against your center. Feel how his hands shift to rub at your sides and the sweep of his thumbs graze over the sides of your breasts with each pass. You grip his back a bit harder as his hands move down to now run along your thighs, his fingers massaging some heat into them as he works his way from your knees up toward your hips.

"Lieutenant," you barely breathe into his neck and you feel him twitch against you. A shiver that has nothing to do with the cold goes through you and you press your hips against his length and hear the small gasp of air that escapes his lips. His pulse is jumping in his neck and you dare to brush your lips over it and he grabs your hipbones hard in response. "Just body heat right?" You ask softly, your lips still whispering along his skin. "Just us trying to keep warm."

"Right," Ghost nearly growls as he flexes his hips up into you and you sigh against his neck. The blankets shift as he moves to grab your face to make you look at him. You stare at his hazel eyes, watching as he surveys your face as you slide your hands from behind his back to wrap around his neck. You are careful to keep pressed against him in all the movement, not wanting an ounce of heat to escape your small cocoon. "I don't want you to," he starts but cuts off as you grip the back of his head and pull him in for a kiss.

This may not be exactly how you wanted him, but you were going to take what you could get. He doesn't hold back from rolling your hips over him now, his hands helping move you knowing the injury to your calf. You whine into the kiss as he moves your effortlessly over him, the head of cock passing over your clit over and over working you into a frenzy.

Ghost dares to slip a hand between your thighs to your core and you gasp into his mouth. He finds the slickness there that he glides his fingers through as he ever so slowly pushes a finger in. You groan as he curls his finger and slowly pumps into you, letting you rock on him as he feverishly kisses you through the pants.

"Fucking warm down here," he taunts as he slips another finger in. "Are you going to share?" He continues as he lets you rut your hips over him, letting his palm give you that friction you were desperate for. "Or just going to let me freeze out here?" He chuckles as you let out a particularly needy whine as he scissors his fingers.

You push up on your knees, ignoring the burn in your leg as Ghost pulls his fingers away. It's a bit awkward as he lines himself at your center, careful to not let the blankets slip as you grab at his shoulders, but when you feel him notched you lean back. The slide in isn't painful, but it takes a moment for your body to get used to it.

Not that Ghost seems to mind you taking a moment to adjust. He tilts his head back at the sensation of you fully seated on him, his mouth slightly agape. You watch him for a second before grinding down on him, biting the inside of your cheek at the fullness.

"Warm enough?" You ask after a second and he lifts his head up to smirk at you.

"So fucking warm," he answers back.

You start slow as you ride him, wanting to savor how his eyes seem to devour you as you move. Commit to memory how those normally cold and calculating eyes seem at peace watching you. Ghost lets you take control at first as you use him for your pleasure and survival, seemingly enjoying being able to sit back while you put in the work. But as your movements become a little less coordinated and put a strain on your calf he takes over without you having to ask.

Pulling you tight against his chest, Ghost loops his arms around your back to grab at your shoulders as he shifts. You gasp at the first experimental thrust he makes, and he chuckles in response before he beings to fuck you in earnest. He gives you no warning as he thrusts up into you and you cry out loudly against his ear as he hits that spot inside of you over and over.

You can feel the slickness of sweat on your chests as Ghost grunts and groans into your ear. One of his hands slides back down to your ass to help lift you as the other on your shoulder slams you back down on top of him. The rhythm has created an obscene slapping noise but you both drown that out with your moans and gasps.

"Don't fucking stop," you say into his ear as you grab hard at the back of his head, your fingers scratching against the short hair on his scalp. You can feel he's close, feel him twitching inside of you, and how he's moving to pull out to finish. "Fuck, please," you say as you move your hips over him not caring about the strain on your injury.

He doesn't stop. He fills you up with a growl that seems to erupt from his chest and you let out a satisfied sigh as he continues to fuck you through it. The additional slickness, and feel of it between your legs, finally gets you over that edge and you come with him with a loud cry that you stifle by biting down into his shoulder. He moves your body over him until you finally come down, shaking from the high of your orgasm and not the cold.

"I told you body heat was the solution," he teases after a moment as you look at him. Both of your cheeks are flushed and you can almost feel the heat wavering off your bodies from under the blankets. You don't move from your position, keeping him buried inside of you as he holds you close.

Just for the warmth of course.

[sunboki]

— KOREA'S MOST WANTED (BLACKWATER) : TEASER

🎥 : The Cypher! Seo Changbin x fem. reader

TROPE. part of the “Korea’s Most Wanted” universe, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, criminal! au, ‘The Gunsman’ (Christopher Bahng) is a coworker of ‘The Cypher’ (Seo Changbin), fwb

WORD COUNT. estimated to be around 5k-10k words

WARNINGS. murder, guns and other weapons, descriptive violence, mature themes, alcohol, blood, lying/hitman activities (??), smoking, cursing allusions to sex/drugs

PLAYLIST.

AUG'S NOTES. and.. without further ado, the teaser has been posted! welcome to ‘Korea’s Most Wanted’, the second adaption!!!please tell me your thoughts! :))

SYPNOSIS. The Cypher leaves his mark even when his presence is gone. Though, you knew Seo Changbin, not The Cypher. Not until an act upon feelings led to unwanted discovery, in which the question lies: Who really is the man you’ve fallen in love with?

or alternatively :

If everything goes to doom, let it be with you.

CRIMINAL #0003 — SEO, CHANGBIN.

CRIMINAL RECORD

Changbin has been convicted of murder using a baseball bat and is described to be aggressive and out of control. Please proceed with caution.

⭑ REWARD

⎯ CRIMINAL FILES (additional cases)

There are many things you remember from him.

He smokes. You don’t like the smell.

His favorite shirt is a worn one.

He believes everything has a purpose, including the goldfish bowl he keeps below his bed, filled with used packs of Marlboro cigarettes.

You also remember his bad habits, and his good ones.

He is an intricate man, after all.

You remember his hands. Stubby fingers, bruised knuckles he never talked about. Dirt and grime smeared in the creases of his palm.

He has a ferocious temper, but is also kind hearted. A juxtaposition of many things all at once, scrambled together in the scars by his ribs, the details carving him physically as opposed to his mind—intricate and delicate, too frail to touch.

Amongst many things you could recall from him, after he left, you allowed him to take himself with it. You bought air fresheners to rid of his smell, and always donned new t-shirts, ones lacking holes gaping at the armpits, without stretched collars.

Slowly but surely, you got rid of him, and yet, he stays. 

Seo Changbin can never stay somewhere for too long, but he still resides in your apartment.

Like an apparition, roaming about whenever it pleases.

Here, and yet not.

Maybe that’s another bad habit you forgot to add.

“And as for the next week, we’re expecting warm temperatures in the east–”

Accidentally pulling the wrong cord, the weatherman’s voice abruptly cuts off. From your couch, a groan resounds in response.

Rising up from your squat on the floor, your slippers squeak as you walk across tile, stained and scratched a distasteful baby blue as you throw a kitchen towel at the man.

His hand covers a lighter, held up to the cigar dangling from chapped lips.

Leasing the cheapest apartment in Seoul came with a price. That, along with letting him linger around.

“I told you not to smoke in here, the ventilation sucks,” You grumble, wandering around to the window, trying to budge the halfway broken glass coverage up to no avail.

Of course, Changbin, the man in question, doesn’t listen, eyes drawn to the panties peeking from beneath your big t-shirt (his big t-shirt) instead.

Quickly snuffing the lit embers against his palm without so much as a hiss of pain, he stuffs the remnants in his pocket to dispose of afterward, walking on up to where you continuously try lifting the unwavering window.

“Bin, help.” Managed as a grunt between heaving breaths, your expression pinches in irritation.

Alternative to the request, he scoops you up, big palms wrinkling your shirt as his hands wander upward, effectively hoisting you into his arms. Wordlessly does his face tip down to litter kisses along your neckline, pulling you flush against him.

“Don’t wanna,” He grunts, humming along to your hand reaching behind for him, holding his kiss to your skin, lips parted whilst staring ahead dazedly.

Control. The one thing you hate when it comes to Changbin. The thing his lips render you unable to gain a semblance of.

As for him, he likes that face on you. Likes when he kisses you a lot, when your lips get all puffy and kiss-bitten. Likes when you drool while he stuffs your face into the mattress those nights you were supposed to ‘just have a drink together’.

He’s always been a fan of your lips.

Then again, if you’re listing his worst habits, you might as well confess one of your own.

You can’t say no to him, not even when the window remains unopened, smoke mogging the air when he takes you on the couch, ignorant to the thin walls as usual.

“Y/N, c’mon,” Changbin groans, his bottom lip jutting outward in a pout unfitting to the man’s disposition.

His hair’s a mess from your tugging, looking honorably disheveled. You can't say you look any different, if not worse, leaning against your doorframe.

“You know how we end up. I let you in and thirty minutes later we end up fucking,” You cross your arms over your chest, eyeing him up and down. 

Obviously wracking his mind for an excuse, he mimics your crossed arms, tongue poking into his cheek—an action that would’ve caused you to fold any other day if you weren’t attending a friend’s birthday party tonight.

It’s true, and serves as an additional factor keeping Changbin’s mouth closed. Each time, without fail; wrapped around your finger, you wrapped around his.

“But–” 

“Nope! Bye!” Interrupting his impending words, you hastily close the door, awaiting an entourage of incessant messages a few minutes later, full of frowny faces and helpless pleas.

Who knew such a man could behave so pitifully?

Yet, no such messages notify your phone, failing to buzz on the bathroom sink while you clean up your mascara with a q-tip, leaning over the faucet, face pursed with focus. 

It’s not often you get the excuse to go out, and with Dixie’s being the party spot in particular, you won't waste the opportunity of attending one of Itaewon’s most frivolous clubs.

As for you and Changbin, the understanding rests on your lack of commitment. He wanders, you wander. He isn’t one to put down roots, and you respect that.

Granted, the sex is mind-blowing, so it wouldn't be a surprise if the frequency of your nights are accompanied by him, but it’s never shackled that way. 

Although, that isn’t your goal tonight. Earlier today was enough to satiate, and your newfound goal consists of enjoying free drinks and the obnoxious bass blasting through your ears, numbed amongst the sea of bodies crowding every side.

Upon arriving at the entrance, you flash your phone in the bouncer’s direction, displaying an invitation before he unhooks an old-fashioned barrier rope—allowing passageway into masses of sweaty bodies and the nauseating stench of alcohol overtaking everyone’s inhibitions.

Navigating around to the private booths, it doesn’t take long to find the crowned birthday queen by the squeals of laughter and enthusiastic clinking of beer bottles, an expansive array of liquor displayed on any surface available the moment you walk inside.

It’s a relief, surrounding yourself by happy faces and busied chatter, senses buzzing each shot you take, unsure whether it’s vodka or water entering your system at a certain point.

“So, how’s that hunk of muscle doing?” Sabina piques, her overlined lips pursing, huge hoop earrings dangling from heavily pierced ears.

In the blue-tinged lighting, she looks ethereal, dark skin practically glittering with her recently applied perfume.

If you’re drunk enough, you might’ve considered switching sides for this absolute angel. This girl was gorgeous and quite literally everyone’s wannabe-with or wannabe altogether.

“You guys aren’t exclusive, right?” The birthday girl, Margerie, adds, slumping on the leather cushions, her stiletto heels propping on Sabina’s thighs. 

These two have been your ride or die since college, and you're more than happy to spill every aspect of your life’s complications and delights at any chance to who you like to refer to as your big sisters.

“Mhm, he stops by on a daily basis.” 

Swishing the clear liquid in its glass, you watch the deceiving concoction catch light, periodically looking back to them.

Sabina barks a loud laugh, one that ushers everyone else into laughter as well. Infectious.

“On a daily basis?” She chokes, slapping Margerie’s calf. “What? Gettin’ his daily head?”

Safe to say she earned a threat after that jeer.

“Well, I respect your decisions, but I think ya’ll would be great together, y’know. Don’t think we don’t see the way he looks at you,” Margerie snaps her fingers, the two sharing an agreeing nod you dismiss with a roll of your eyes and a scoff.

“Oh please, you met him once at a bar and he was already wasted, you can’t base his love for me on that!” You interject indignantly, immediately shrinking under the girls’ scrutinizing stares.

“Um, yeah, we can.” 

Your silence beckons either of them to burst into laughter again, assuring you their words were all in good fun while you playfully grovel, rising up to excuse yourself to the bathroom and assuring your giggling, now drunken messes of friends you’ll be back soon.

Unfortunately, you end up walking in on a couple certainly enjoying the booth’s privacy, earning your hand slapping over your face while blindly stumbling in the opposite direction.

Even better? The next room you accidentally approach leaves you dizzy with the overbearing reek of nothing short of hard amphetamines, the cherry on top in your sad pursuit of a simple bathroom break.

It’s just your luck getting lost, but at least you’ll have funny conversations to bring back to girls.

However, your continuous search is cut short when a booming echo is heard in the main club, and you watch in horror–having finally escaped the maze of the booth section to peer through the joint doorway–as a bartender’s head slams onto the countertop, a pool of blood cascading around him.

In a fit of panic, outrageous gatherings of people ram themselves out the doors, screaming as they go, trampling each other with only one goal: escape.

All you can do is stare, frozen in your spot, eyes frantically flitting between the now-dead bartender,—bullet-hole puncturing straight through his head— the surging crowd, and whoever the assailant is, where they may be.

Yeah, you’ve certainly lost a need for the bathroom.

Instantly, your heart ascends to your throat, wobbly, unsteady feet climbing back through the booths, desperately slamming open doorways in your search before a “Psst!” breaches your ringing eardrums.

Sabina, holding an utterly wasted Margerie against her shoulder, crouches down behind a door, gesturing for you to rush over and claiming a second exit should be near the back. 

Police sirens blare in the distance, and through repetitive words of encouragement to your petrified frame from the older girl, you escape from the first exit in sight, gasping for the air unwilling to enter your lungs.

“I already called a cab for this gal right after hearing the shots,” Sabina relays, rubbing soothing circles on your back as she regards a very much intoxicated Margerie. 

“You,” She points in your direction, brows lifted. “Call your man. And don’t tell me he’s not your man, he will come and get you.”

All you can do is nod, hands fervently scrolling through your contacts, pressing onto his number as you bring the phone to your ear.

The line crackles for a moment before you realize he picked up, sounding rather out of breath for some odd reason. Must have been at the gym, although it is pretty late.

Ignoring any questions, you get straight to the point.

“Binnie,” You urgently whisper, voice breaking a bit.

The man in question immediately perks up at your tone, nudging the screen closer to his ear with his shoulder, using his teeth to get rid of the gloves on his hands.

“Mm? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He quips, concern evident.

No matter your relationship status, he still cares. For you, for your safety.

Ah, he makes no-strings difficult.

“I.. I need you to pick me up, I’m really scared right now.”

Stifling, you wave a very wasted Margerie off in her taxi, craning whilst awaiting his response, Sabina remaining beside you.

“Send me the address, I’ll be there,” Changbin soothes, pulling the magazine from his pistol and stuffing it in his ‘gym’ bag, washing his hands in the sink of the exact bathroom you’d be searching for.

And when your text comes in after he hangs up, his face contorts into that of surprise upon finding you in the same location he was at: Dixie’s.

Because while you were partying, Changbin was completing a job.

No, The Cypher was completing a job requiring the death of a certain someone, a certain bartender who just so happened to be the murder you were a first hand witness to.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

[vintagerpg]

OK, this week is one of those exercises in me looking at a game that doesn’t appeal to me for reasons I can’t quite express, and then you try to educate me as to its charms. The game in question is Numenera, the first iteration from 2013, before Cypher System really becomes Cypher System.

So, Numenera is a very light mechanical RPG, using a D20 for resolution. Only the players roll; they’re trying to beat values on a sliding difficulty ladder that reminds me vaguely of Fate. Characters are defined through key words (though not, like, totally open ended keywords as in HeroQuest, there are constraints and those build in a lot of structure that makes me feel comfortable). Magic items are little doo-dads that have a bunch of unique minor effects, so they have a lot of application, feel special and can interact with each other in lots of ways (good and bad). It’s a way more welcoming and usable system than I expected (the last Monte Cook game I read was Invisible Sun, which is neither).

The game is arranged around exploration and discovering things to wonder at — the world has a deep history, full of lost technology, weird magic, strange civilizations. Page after page after page of stuff that I feel should thrill me (I love the fact that there is no experience rewards for combat and that damage is basically static). Especially since I love Cook’s Planescape work and at enjoy the majority of his other D&D material I’ve read. And I like worlds with similar histories, like Talislanta or Jorune. But for some reason, Numenera leaves me under-wondered. The same is true of the videogames (and Planescape Torment was for a long time my all-time favorite).

So what’s my malfunction? What am I missing?

[frozenfries]

Cozy Café : A VALORANT Headcanon

It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written for this game, but inspiration struck at a random time. This totally hasn’t been sitting in my drafts since last January

Prompt: If the agents worked at a café, what would their roles and/or signature drink be?

Amidst the chaos of battle, a quaint café stands as a sanctuary for the weary agents. Here, they can take refuge from their high-stakes duels, and trade their weapons for aprons to pursue a different kind of mission: the art of brewing the perfect cup of coffee.

Phoenix: with his vibrant personality and quick reflexes, he’s the charismatic face of the café. Entertaining customers with his barista skills comes naturally as he conjures up dazzling coffee concoctions with a flair of his hand, a burst of flame and a confident grin. His signature drink, The Ignition Latte, is a fiery blend that invigorates even the most exhausted of patrons. Jett: agile on and off the battlefield, she brings her lightning-fast speed and precision to the café. With a swift motion of her finger, she effortlessly crafts delicate latte art, transforming each cup into its own masterpiece. Her Cloud Burst Cappuccino is a smooth delight, creating a moment of feather-light happiness for those who drink it. Viper: the formidable chemist brings her scientific expertise to the world of coffee. With a touch of her gloved hand, she infuses her creations with unique flavors and aromas, leaving customers in awe. Her Venomous Mocha is a mysterious blend that tantalizes the taste buds and leaves a lingering, addictive aftertaste. Sage: with her nurturing personality and herbal knowledge, she adds a touch of serenity to the café and its menu. Her Rejuvenation Tea is a calming infusion that restores both body and mind, providing a moment of tranquility amidst the chaos of everyday. Omen: ever the enigma, he brings an air of mystery to the café. With a flick of his wrist, he conjures up ethereal and smoky concoctions, leaving people wondering how he manages to capture such unique flavors. His Shadowy Cold Brew is a chilling experience that takes customers on a journey through darkness and light. KAY/O: the robotic agent assists in the day-to-day operations of the café, precisely measuring ingredients, ensuring efficiency, and maintaining the coffee shop's cutting-edge technology. KAY/O's presence adds a futuristic touch to the atmosphere, making customers feel like they've stepped into a realm where man and machine coexist harmoniously. Sova: a master archer, you can find him behind the counter carefully crafting his signature drink, The Tracker's Shot: a potent blend of espresso and a hint of blueberry syrup, topped with a delicate foam art of a wolf's paw print. Sova takes great pride in his creation, often using it as a conversation starter with customers, enthralling them with tales of his adventures in the wilderness. Cypher: the watchful surveillance expert provides security for the establishment. He has a keen eye for detail, which translates seamlessly into his signature drink, The Watchful Eye Latte: a meticulous combination of steamed milk, a shot of espresso, and a dash of vanilla spice syrup, served with a meticulous swirl of latte art depicting an intricate camera lens.

Chamber: the polished agent with a mysterious past has a taste for the unconventional, which is reflected in his signature creation, The Trademark Mocha: a rich concoction of dark chocolate, a double shot of espresso, and a hint of cinnamon, sprinkled with a dash of edible gold glitter that gives it an otherworldly shimmer.

Astra: with the ability to infuse her cosmic energy into any environment, she can elevate even a simple drink into an otherworldly experience. The Celestial Brew starts with a base of rich, smooth espresso, followed by a fusion of steamed milk and vanilla syrup, creating a swirling galaxy effect. To top it off is a dollop of homemade lavender-infused whipped cream, a touch of stardust and a sprinkle of edible glitter.

[ahummingbirdwitch]

Fantasize (Cypher x F!Reader) Part 2

Summary: Part 2 to Fantasize. Read part 1 here

Pairing: Cypher x F!Reader

Word Count: 2,675

Warnings: male masturbation, sexual fantasy, hand job, blow job, p in v sex

Notes: Cypher’s turn ;)

After last night, I think I’m in love with you

(I think I’m in love with you)

Woke up and I can’t get you out of my head

(I’ve tried, I’ve tried)

~~~

Returning to work like normal had proven more of a challenge than Cypher had thought.

That night he’d watched you in your room, he’d hardly slept a wink, waiting for what felt like hours for his erection to go down. He’d thought about finishing himself off, just to relieve himself of the torment, but he’d refused. As desperately as he’d tried to think of anything else, the only thing on his mind had been you. You and your face drawn in pleasure, writhing under the covers as you cried his name…

He’d forced himself to go straight to bed, unwilling to let that memory linger. He couldn’t use you in that way. It was wrong. It was selfish. So he’d resigned himself to a restless night, certain that in the morning, it would feel as though nothing had ever happened.

But, despite his efforts, he could not seem to forget. And in the coming weeks, his turmoil would only worsen.

Cypher had been sure his feelings towards you would not change; he would continue working with you as always—as coworkers and friends, and nothing more. But the moment he’d entered the break room that morning and spotted your face among the others, he’d felt a jolt in his chest. He’d written it off as just surprise—he hadn’t seen you since the previous day, after all—but that sensation had returned later on, when he’d passed by you in the hall. A fluttering feeling in his heart—not unlike the kind he’d felt when he’d first started dating Nora.

It wasn’t a crush. It couldn’t be a crush. He was a grown man—he was too old for crushes. If anything, he was coming down with a sickness. That had to be it.

Unfortunately for him, his symptoms persisted for the rest of the week, and the next week after. He was strangely jumpy around you, his concentration thrown off. He found himself more distracted during missions, his aim far less precise than it usually was, to the irritation of some of his teammates. If you had noticed, you didn’t mention it, but that wasn’t the point. He was off his game. There was something wrong with him, and it wasn’t good.

Cypher had joined the protocol for two reasons, and two only: to gather as much intel as possible, and to protect himself and his identity for as long as he could. In all the years he’d been with Valorant, he had not once strayed from those goals, nor let anything stand in his way, even with all the obstacles he’d faced. He knew everything —nothing ever caught him off-guard.

But for some inexplicable reason, this had.

At this point, he knew you had feelings for him. You were infatuated with him, at the very least. But why? He had never been particularly kind to you. He had been friendly, yes. Helpful, certainly. He’d cracked a few jokes with you here and there. But what had he really done to make you feel this way? Why would you think of��him when you were pleasuring yourself? None of it made any sense, and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since that night.

He couldn’t understand how he could have had such an effect on you—and in turn, how you could have such an effect on him. This wasn’t normal. He was always so focused, never losing sight of the task at hand, never letting anything distract him. And yet you’d found a way to worm inside his brain, burrowing down deep and making a home for yourself. He could only think of you, and no matter what he did to occupy himself, nothing was ever enough to drive away the thought of you. It was madness.

He had to do something about it.

~~~

Cypher returned to his room late that night, weary and eager to unwind.

He began to rid himself of his many layers, removing his hat first and then his coat, which he hung up on its rack. Once he had stripped down to his underwear, he considered taking a shower. It was so late, but the idea was tantalizing. His whole body was sore, and in all honesty, he didn’t smell pleasant. Wearing so much clothing all day long had its downsides.

Heading into his bathroom, he took off his boxers and started the water for the shower, stepping in when he was sure it was hot enough. As he let the water seep into his hair, he could feel his mind starting to wander.

You’d been assigned to his team for the most recent mission. Recently, Cypher had been finding ways to avoid you, hoping to keep his mind clear as much as he could when he wasn’t working, but when teams were assigned, he had no say in who he could or could not work with, and trying to get out of working with you would have looked suspicious anyway. The mission had not gone nearly as smoothly as it could have; he’d missed a target he’d been aiming at by a hair, then almost botched the entrance during the infiltration of the site. All because you’d been right there with him, and he’d been too aware of your presence.

You. You, with your bright eyes and smile that could light up a room. You, with a sweet voice and an even sweeter laugh. You, who always listened to him so intently, never interrupting. You, who were naive, but somehow also wise. Optimistic in a way he hadn’t been in a very long time, and maybe never would be again.

Cypher leaned against the shower wall, lost in thought. The memory of you in your bed, touching yourself to him, was beginning to replay in his mind. He remembered it so vividly; how you’d thrown back your head and screwed your eyes shut, back arching as you chased the pleasure your hand brought you. How you’d opened your mouth wide and whined his name—his real name—like you needed him more than anything.

He couldn’t take this anymore. Why couldn’t he have just kept your mic off? If you’d stayed muted, he never would have heard you cry out for him. He would never know you had feelings for him, even if now, they seemed almost obvious to him. He would have stayed ignorant, and experienced none of this torture—these feelings and sensations that always seemed to bog him down. It had been so much easier before, when you were just another coworker, another person who couldn’t affect him. He wished he could make all this go away, force his heart and body to stop feeling so much.

As he looked down, though, he was reminded of the fact that he couldn’t simply do that. He groaned, realizing how hard he’d become at the thought of you. Even when you were nowhere near him, you had power over him. It wasn’t right. He was the one with the power; he alone knew everyone’s secrets, including yours. What did you know about him? Nothing. No one did.

And yet… how could he blame you for any of this?

You were just a young woman, a new agent to the protocol. He knew your family, your history, your hometown. He knew the kind of person you were. You were sincere; you had no ulterior motive, no reason to want to get under his skin. You’d always been honest with him, even when you didn’t have to be. That night, you’d been alone in your own private room, with no way of knowing if anyone was watching or listening. You couldn’t have known he would learn about it. You’d done it for yourself… because you wanted to.

You were just… a girl with a crush.

Cypher glanced at his hand, then at his painfully erect cock. There was no point wracking his brain about this any longer. He was exhausted, mentally and physically, and he needed some relief.

Taking himself in his hand, he closed his eyes and conjured up an image.

He was sitting in a chair, someone on their knees between his legs. No face. Just someone to please him.

He sighed, relaxing as he began to stroke his shaft.

The faceless person shifted closer. Hands wrapped around his cock, lightly gripping the base.

Cypher copied the motion.

They leaned in, impishly licking the head of his cock, wetting it with their saliva.

He released a soft breath, stroking a bit harder.

Warm lips latched onto the head to suck, letting saliva drip down his shaft. Suddenly, opening their mouth wider, they took all of him in at once.

He inhaled sharply.

Taking him deep in their throat, they sucked and licked his twitching cock, moaning around him. Unable to help himself, he looked down, eager to watch the performance.

You were staring up at him, mouth full of him.

Cypher’s hips stuttered, and he nearly let go of his cock. No. No. Not you. You weren’t supposed to be here. He had to stop this.

He shook his head, rewinding the vision.

He refused to look down this time, focusing solely on the feeling of that warm, wet mouth and fat tongue. He thrust slowly, needing to be deeper, deeper. He hit something—the back of a throat, most likely—and the moan around his cock sent a shock through him like electricity.

It was your voice. Your moan.

A pained noise escaped him. No. He was losing control.

Cypher looked down, helpless not to meet your gaze. You peered up at him from under thick eyelashes, your pretty lips stretched around his cock. You took him deeper into your mouth, tasting him, savoring him.

He moaned, stroking himself harder. Fuck. This wasn’t good. He wasn’t supposed to be seeing your face. But how could he possibly stop?

You licked his shaft, then sucked him feverishly, giving extra attention to his head. He bucked his hips, reaching to grab your hair. Once he’d taken hold, he pulled, and you moaned around him again.

Cypher groaned low. This was so good. Too good.

You grazed him lightly with your teeth, gagging just a little as you tried to take him in all the way once more.

He pumped himself even harder, thrusting with each motion. He knew he shouldn’t enjoy this. He knew this was wrong, but he had to keep going.

You let go of him for just a second, dragging your tongue up his length.

His body jerked. More, more.

“Cypher, please,” you murmured, your lips pressed to the side of his cock. “I need you. Please.”

Cypher grunted. Oh, your voice would be the death of him.

He tightened his grip on your hair. “You need me?” he asked softly. “How badly?”

You licked him again, making him shudder. “I need you right now,” you begged. “Amir.”

He shivered, a surge of heat rushing straight down to his core. Oh, fuck. There was no going back now.

In an instant, everything shifted. He had you pinned down underneath him, both of you naked with eyes locked. You gazed up at him, your cheeks flushed and lips parted. You were so lovely.

Without saying a word, Cypher inched forward, lifting your thighs as he coaxed them to wrap around him. Then, his arms on either side of your head, he pushed into you.

You whined loudly as you took him inside, your slick walls contracting around his cock.

Cypher’s breath hitched as he worked himself. He wondered how tight you were, how wet you would be if he ever got inside you. Would you take him with ease, like this? Or would he have to open you up some more?

He moaned out, soaking in the warmth of your cunt as he drove himself deeper. You whimpered when he bottomed out, tightening on his length, and that only spurred him on. He thrust faster, harder.

Cypher moved as though he were fucking you, bucking his hips with each firm stroke.

“Amir,” you cried out, clawing at his back. “S-So good. So good—please.”

“Shhhh.” He bent down, speaking close to your ear. “Be patient, dear.”

You responded by clamping down on him, forcing a strangled cry from him.

Cypher panted. This was too much; he was so close now. Just a few more sweet words from you, and he’d be done for.

“Please,” you whined. Your hands had moved from his back to his hair, grasping and pulling on his curls. “Amir.”

“Sweet girl,” he breathed. He dropped down to his elbows to kiss your exposed chest. He found your nipple and sucked, relishing the high moan you made when he did so.

Just a little more.

Cypher kissed your jaw, rolling his hips into you. “Do you want to cum?” he murmured.

“Yes,” you gasped. “Please—please.”

What he would give to hear you beg for him like this.

You dug your nails into his scalp, bringing his head down lower. You kissed his nose, his cheek, his neck, no mask to keep his face hidden from you.

Cypher faltered, your name escaping his mouth in a whisper.

You found his ear and took it between your teeth, tugging.

He said your name again, louder this time. So close, so close, so close…

You arched your back, tightening around him and moaning right into his ear. “I love you—I love you, please cum for me—”

Cypher gasped harshly. Shit—it was happening. It was happening now.

His cock pulsed violently in his hand, and then he was suddenly cumming, hot pale seed shooting out from the head. It spilled onto the floor of the shower, swirling for a moment before vanishing down the drain.

Cypher caught his breath, one hand soothing his cock through his climax with the other on the wall to support himself. His heart was pounding fiercely, so hard he could feel it ringing in his ears. He couldn’t remember the last time an orgasm had overwhelmed him this much. He was trembling, and unimaginably hot, even without the steaming water raining down on him.

He exhaled as his heart rate calmed, leaning heavily against the wall. How long had he been in here? He hadn’t even done a thing to actually wash himself. Blinking, and pushing his hair out of his eyes, he did his best to break free of his haze, wiping the last traces of cum from his cock before setting to work cleaning the rest of his body.

Some time later, when he’d finished, Cypher stepped carefully out of the shower and prepared for bed. After dressing himself for the night, he took a seat at his desk. No matter how tired he was, he could not go to sleep without one final surveillance.

Everyone appeared to be in their proper place; even those missing from their rooms were accounted for, either away on an established mission or relaxing in the break room. He searched for the agents from his own team—all in their own rooms, already asleep.

Including you.

You were tucked under your covers, turned away from the camera. Just as Cypher felt a twinge of disappointment, you suddenly shifted onto your other side, revealing your face to him, and his heart skipped a beat. You were holding your favorite teddy bear in your arms, so tightly it could have been your baby, and the corner of his mouth curled up at the sight.

He was too tired, too numb from the last hour to really think about any of this. About what he had done in the shower, and what it had meant. For him. For you. For Nora. The past. The future.

All he knew was that he wanted you, and it couldn’t be denied any longer.

(Part 3 coming soon!!)

[motion90affect]

Hip Hop Instrumental Beat - "Droppin Em" | Drill Type Beat | Movie Scene...

[ttrpgcafe]

HOLY SHIT INVISIBLE SUN IS COMING BACK AND IT'S MY FAVORITE RPG OF ALL TIME PLEASE BACK IT SO I (or we, I guess) CAN GET THE WELLSPRING:

https://www.backerkit.com/c/projects/monte-cook-games/invisible-sun-return-of-the-black-cube#top

For those of you unfamiliar with Invisible Sun, it's an rpg where every single player is a spell caster of some variety, each with their own unique way of interacting with magic.

The Vances are the most traditional spellcasters, but they eschew spell lists in favor of literally filling a grid with spell cards, representing their limited cognitive space being taken up by spells. They get more space, and literally bigger spells as you progress.

Weavers take two concepts and combine them to produce an effect, very much like Ars Magica or Mage: The Ascension, if you're familiar with those. They get the ability to combine more concepts together, and to have mastery over more concepts as they progress.

Makers are this game's artificer, and they have a robust system for making quirky magic items that have fun, interesting, unique side effects or downsides every time you use them. Their progression is the most straight forward by the numbers "the things you make are more powerful and you're better at making them" of the bunch, but the system lets you, for instance, make a gun out of the body of a dead(?) god, so I'll give this a pass.

Lastly, there are the Goetics, who summon and bind otherworldly creatures to their wills. This takes the form of a conversation and negotiation with your GM over what you have to do for your bound creature, and what exactly they do for you in exchange. If you've ever played a warlock and felt like patrons weren't a big enough deal, this is an entire "class" that lets those relationships (yes, plural) take center stage.

The entire system feels very much like Cypher system 2.0, with a d10 dice pool system with a straight forward level of difficulty to hit, very much like the levels of difficulty in base cypher system, just made easier to manage. It even uses the "I'm an Adjective Noun who Verbs" character structure from Cypher system, here made much more interesting by the addition of a funky little xp system.

Invisible Sun has one of the most interesting advancement systems I've ever seen: aside from normal, average, "you do a thing, you get xp" system, here called "Acumen" (used to increase your stats and skills) there is a separate xp system related to good and bad things happening to your character, called "Joy" and "Despair" respectively. You combine one Joy with one Despair to get a "Crux" which is the xp currency you need to advance your class and focus abilities. This incentivizes players to not only let bad things happen to them, but to SEEK THEM OUT, which is huge! Players often think they want to win all the time, but they don't actually want that, it makes for a boring narrative. This is one of the very few systems I've seen incentivize this story structure, and I'm absolutely in love with it.

Lastly, because the game focuses so heavily on Magic, it has the only system for simulating the ebbs and flows of magic I've seen done well! This involves "The Path of Suns" and the "Sooth deck" which is the in game name for a specific pattern of laying out what amounts to tarot cards that make magic dynamic, interesting, and unpredictable in a way I've never seen before, and rarely since. (Pathfinder's Secrets of Magic is the only other supplement I can think of, and that was almost 5 years after this game came out)

Anyway, I can't recommend this game enough, the systems are unique, the vibes are immaculate, and it's so fuckin WEIRD in the best way.

[dullgecko]

i think that riz often just sits in his wardrobe when he gets stressed/overstimulated because he likes small spaces

he has some fairy lights and like one of those dim reading lamps and comfy blankets and pillows and he just sits under the clothes, and often fabian will come and sit and talk to him through the door with his back against it. he knows not to open the door unless riz says because one time he did and it was too bright for riz and he freaked out and scratched him then pulled it closed

Rizs rogue exams aren't anything like the assessments his other friends do for their specialised classes. Hells, his rogue /classes/ aren't like their classes. All their school work is dolled out via cyphers and hidden clues and dead drops of information packets that need to be checked for traps before they're opened.

Given that their normal everyday classwork is that intense their exams are on an entire different level. Riz had spent an entire week "studying" for his exams, on top of the more mundane subjects they also taught at Aguefort, and had only /just/ managed to put the clues together to find out WHERE his rogue exams were taking place before he had to race off to the exam location.

He'd ended up having to ditch his friends that night, everyone else getting together for post-exam celebrations and icecream, in order to book it across town to the stadium. The goal of the exam was searching through the crowd at a massive concert to find their correct contact among a sea of fakes, get the information they needed, and get out without being spotted.

The rogue had already been exhausted before he got there but had to push himself hard to complete his mission. He did it, of course, dodging the fakes among the blaring music and flashing lights and sending a photo of his exam sheet to the proper email inbox before heading home. It was too much for him though, the bus ride home nearly sending him into a meltdown before he even got back to his apartment.

He'd never been super good with concerts, hell he didn't go to any other than Fig and Gorgugs, but at least his friends were smart enough not to use rapidly strobe-ing lighting effects in their shows. Without his light filtering glasses he might not have been able to push through long enough to finish his exam and get home. The rogue collapsing face down on his couch the instant he got home and covering his head with a pillow.

It didn't help that there were several other Aguefort students in the building either, Rizs sensitive hearing able to pick up on the loud music two floors down from their post exam celebrations that was clearly audible due to the shitty soundproofing.

It was at that point that Riz gave up, dragging himself to his room and shucking his vest and button up so he was left with just his soft undershirt. Lights getting flicked off in his room as he clambered into the small space in the bottom corner of his closet and slammed the door behind him. The blankets and clothes he'd stuffed inside doing a good job of blocking out the extra noise as he tried to decompress.

He stayed hunkered down there for a while, how long he wasn't sure but evidently long enough that his friends were sure he was done with his exam. Crystal buzzing with notifications from the group chat as they tried to see how he went.

He didn't answer with words, just sending through a series of photos he'd taken of the concert before turning the camera on himself and switching to video call mode. The closet was dark though so all they could see was his glowing eyes as his crystal screen reflected off them. His own screen getting dimmed as far down as it could go without turning off as his friends accepted the call.

Initially it was a mosaic of five different faces and camera angles of a booth in Basrars, then there was a little scuffling before it was trimmed down to just Figs. The archdevil propping her phone up in the booth where Riz would usually sit.

"Dude hi! You all finished with your rogue stuff?" Fig beamed, getting squished a bit by Kristen and Gorgug as they both tried to squeeze into the camera frame with her.

"Mmm"

"Cool. You passed?"

"Yeah. It was a close thing though."

"But you still aced it right?"

"Yeah." Riz reached behind himself to click on the dim light he kept in the cupboard, propping his phone up on his briefcase which he'd dragged into the closet with him so he could sit up and be properly in the camera view. He was sure he looked haggard after the week of assessments and he couldn't muster the energy to lift his ears out of their tired droop.

"I'm not going to come out tonight sorry. I don't think I could... deal..."

"Oof. One of those nights huh?" Fig made a sympathetic expression at the camera when Riz nodded and rubbed his hands over his face.

Honestly they were lucky he was even verbal at this point but he thought they at least deserved an apology. They'd been gushing about their plans for tonight all week and Basrars had only been the first stop.

"We don't have to go out tonight if you're not feeling it. We can reschedule." Fig picked up the phone and held it so she was the only person in view. Shushing her other team-mates as they tried to pipe in to the conversation.

"Don't... don't cancel on my account it's fine. Just take photos and stuff." Riz sighed, leaning back against the wall and bringing his legs up so he could hug his knees. "I'll feel bad if you cancel."

"Okay. Let us know when you're feeling up to hanging out okay? Got the WHOLE weekend to fill." She blew the camera a kiss, Riz sure she'd just tried to give him bardic over the call, before disconnecting.

The goblin sighed, slapping the light switch to put himself back into comfortable darkness again. Eventually, when he got bored of sitting and doing nothing, he pulled his arcubus out of his bag and started disassembling it to clean and do maintenance. Not even bothering to turn the light back on since he could still see just fine with his dark vision.

He was halfway through cleaning some of the internal components when he heard his front door being unlocked. The sound of several pairs of feet entering his apartment before one broke away and entered his room. Two soft knocks on the closet door announcing their presence properly before they all left, the front door getting shut and locked behind them.

Riz cocked his head to the side and listened for a few minutes after they left, opening the closet door to see what all the fuss had been about. The goblin smiling when he spotted a milkshake in a takeaway cup left just outside his hiding spot, grabbing it and dragging it inside before shutting the door again.

[rpgsandbox]

Announcing The Magnus Archive Roleplaying Game

Monte Cook Games and Rusty Quill, distributors of The Magnus Archives podcast, are pleased to announce the forthcoming The Magnus Archives Roleplaying Game. Enter the archives yourself, investigating the supernatural horrors found in the podcast or those you create on your own. Work alongside Jonathan and Martin, Basira, Daisy, and the rest of the staff. Encounter the NotThem, the Anglerfish, or the Man Upon the Stair. Learn the truth of the books of Jurgen Leitner, the coffin that is also a pit, and The People’s Church of the Divine Host.

The 400+ page The Magnus Archives Roleplaying Game is built on the well-loved Cypher System mechanics. The rules are specifically tailored to reflect the horror and the action of The Magnus Archives stories, with the effects of fear and stress taking a toll on characters—but also unlocking access to mysterious supernatural abilities. Using such abilities might save your life—but might also send you further into the clutches of the entities at the heart of such powers. Your character might even eventually become an avatar… but is that a good thing?

You’ll have to discover that for yourself.

Crowdfunding Soon!

The crowdfunding campaign for The Magnus Archives Roleplaying Game launches soon. Sign up to be notified of the launch and get an exclusive gift with your pledge: a Magnus Institute training audio cassette. What will you find when you put it into your tape deck and hit play?

Sign up to secure a free copy with a pledge at any reward level and find out yourself!