#WHICH IS ALSO POTENTIALLY MY SAVING GRACE

[blitzbuckz]

✨I SUPPORT THIS BITCH ✨

[vigilskeep]

as a big fan of you Viago Posting I gotta ask, how do you think Viago feels/reacts to the news of Rook de Riva romancing each of the various companions? I feel like the guy would absolutely have Opinions on all of them lol

i keep receiving asks addressed like this as though i am some kind of Viago Whisperer, which i find both funny and an intimidating task. nevertheless i shall do my best.

i don’t think he would react well to any of the options here, but that’s not necessarily damning, because viago does not react well to basically anything. roughly in order from Least Viago Stress to Most Viago Stress:

1) emmrich seems, in banters with lucanis, to have been emboldened by lucanis’ confirmation that viago posssesses a rosseletto painting and gone on to actually discuss art with viago himself. (lucanis later lets emmrich know from viago that a painting he ordered for vorgoth’s benefit has come in.) emmrich is a man of culture with a very respectable necrotic damage specialisation. he comes from a politically powerful organisation that can defend itself, yet is not personally ambitious in a way likely to drag house de riva into trouble or use rook for his own ends. sure i think viago would make a little fuss about the age gap because he’s judgemental like that but i don’t think there would be much passion behind it

2) bellara’s bubbling questions and excitable nature would be personally a bit startling and maybe slightly grating to viago but i’m keeping her pretty high up because i think lucanis is right and that viago would eat up her knowledge about taste profiles for his usual Nefarious Purposes. once he realises she genuinely is asking questions about house de riva proprietary poisoning tactics for writing research, of all things, i think we can get these fantasy scientists chatting and then she’d charm him against his will.

3) taash’s general bluntness would startle viago even more. their interactions would be pretty hysterical, because taash is so straightforward and viago is so paranoid, and i think viago would leave all of them confused and slightly intimidated. if you send taash with the crows in the final battle, they and teia have a cute interaction about taash getting honorary crow rights, as a conclusion to lucanis and taash’s banters. so this has Teia Approval, which causes viago grumbling but does have a positive viago effect overall. the lords of fortune are friendly with the crows so i don’t think there are major occupational objections here

4) harding is an inquisition agent, which i think viago probably has both condescending and paranoid opinions about. i.e., the inquisition are a small band of fading influence but they also have a history of insane power grabs out of nowhere. neither of which are exactly what you want your protege to marry into. her inability to cook suggests very little skillset bonding. she’s an ordinary farm girl from ferelden and viago’s an antivan elitist so no discussion of their relative backgrounds is going to go very well. HOWEVER, there are saving graces here. she’s a rogue, which is the viago equivalent of dating someone who’s made good career choices. they briefly worked together in the comics with no issues and happily shook hands at the end. he would find her powers conceptually interesting. she’s the type of person to make an effort with in-laws. (hysterical image of her somehow getting viago to her ma’s house for a family gathering. his spindly legs not fitting under the dwarven table. him testing the world’s most earnest fereldan soup for poison. endless potential here.)

5) neve is a detective. viago is a poisoner and rook is his assassin. these are not particularly compatible life paths and i believe viago would point this out with increasing volume as nobody else seems to take issue with it. her canonical willingness to work with the crows would mollify him a bit. every other aspect of her life would not. maybe avoid her mentioning that she lives in a dock town apartment and makes no money because she’s too busy picking fights against impossible odds out of the goodness of her heart? like just don’t bring that up over dinner.

6) davrin made life choices against his own clan’s wishes, greatly approves when you knock his boss out cold, and has zero respect for the crows. davrin does not want viago’s approval. davrin cannot even pretend to want viago’s approval. viago thinks he has the right to be insulted. let alone the insult of his protege ending up with someone with the zero lifetime prospects of a grey warden monster hunter. does rook even know what happened the last time a crow lost their head over a warden? perhaps rook would like the crows to bury as many fifth talons as they did eighth talons! <- said in increasingly hysterical tones, as teia pats him on the back comfortingly while giving rook a thumbs up for picking out a handsome one

7) viago’s fairly sure you’re publicly dating the first talon because you want him personally in an early grave

[jjslvt]

LOVE HURTS ── .✦ ANGST, SMUT, NSFW, MDNI .ᐟ.ᐟ

⤷ heartbreaker!jj maybank x reader

[ masterlist ] // notes: this is a jj version to “beautiful reaper” and “primal desires.” decided to combine it rather than two parts. this one isn’t first person pov. you guys voted that you wanted it so you got it? idk whether to call this dark!jj cos it’s mainly just him being a charming player? well, it’s emotional manipulation, toxic. (which i would never, ever see jj as cos he’s pookie! love writing loverboy!jj 🙂‍↕️ my literal golden boy). just giving this fic to those who voted yes since it won on the poll. [ includes rough & unprotected sex, be safe ]

JJ Maybank had a way of making you believe all the charming things he would say. He wasn’t the most gracious or sophisticated at it — no, sometimes words failed him completely but he could surprise you. In the best of ways.

Was it his smile that would bask in the warmth of a thousand suns? Was it his signature messy locks of blond hair that looked wonderful no matter what state it was in? Was it the way his ocean-colored eyes would glimmer as soon as the light had shone on them? Was it the low tone of his voice with that Southern drawl that came on thicker during certain moments — sending shivers down your spine? Or maybe it was the way he would stare at you like a puppy that made him seem so innocent at first.

That smile of his wasn’t a smile but a dangerous smirk that you were too blind to see.

You don’t have to explain how devastatingly and ruggedly handsome JJ Maybank is. Not only did he have a personality that captivated you in every way; even with the internal sadness and torment that shackled him… the one he would hide and run away from — but he also looked like everything you ever wanted.

Yet he was the most flawed being you ever had the agonizing pleasure of knowing. You felt as though you were put under some trance just to endure his delightful pain.

JJ Maybank had you wrapped around his finger and you were never just the only one. Everyone loved him, everyone wanted him and he’d make you feel special but it was just a fleeting moment. He didn’t want to let anyone in.

He was a heartbreaker and probably one of the sweetest ones.

JJ had much potential; it wasn’t that he was evil, no. He had a good heart deeply buried in the confines of his slightly smeared soul. A heart that he only showed to his best friends, refusing to give others a chance. Too much hurt had plagued him and as much as you wished to be his saving grace, you couldn’t be.

He didn’t want to give that heart up to someone special, he just pushed you away when you came too close. When it had started getting too real for him but he never truly let you stray too far.

All you could do was let him drag you through this exquisite sinful heaven. Perhaps you were twisted too… because you couldn’t stay away.

You were in love.

─────────────────────

A familiar sensation, of JJ Maybank fucking you well into oblivion. His thick cock was so deeply swallowed by you, making you moan out incoherent words. A game that you both played except it wasn’t a game to you; yet you let yourself stay as a player.

Once he heard those sinful sounds escape from your lips, his smirk widened. His eyes twinkled with pride because he knew.

You enjoyed the pleasure too; it would be a lie to say that you didn’t. Your body undoubtedly craved his just as he seemed to want to mold into yours, trying to claim you.

JJ Maybank knew how to fuck and make you feel like you’re on top of the world, that was the simple truth.

On the other hand, you had wished he was fucking you out of pure love… but you knew better than to believe the sweet praises falling from those lips. The praises left a bittersweet taste in your mouth as you both relished and ached at those delicious words. He could be dirty and vulgar with the words but times like these? He became silver-tongued, he knew how to make you melt. It was his charm.

Maybe deep down… he did feel something as this was reoccurring. The full length of his shaft seemed to find a home in the tightness of your heat. Never getting tired of the pleasurable sensation, neither of you.

You couldn’t read his mind; he didn’t like being vulnerable, he didn’t want to let you in. You weren’t the most angelic of people either — you wanted to dive into that tortured soul of a mind, you knew he had pain. The curiosity was a brutal need, if only it were possible to read minds.

You wanted to be the one who could break down his protective walls.

Yet you felt that sometimes, you were the only one who could understand him. Who could pick up the cues. You knew he was a mess of a person — the prettiest boy, full of mischief and sadness; an angry boy, full of impulsivity and hurt that others failed to see. You noticed everything about him.

But not what he thinks of you. He needs someone. Who can that someone be? It won’t be you, no matter how hard you wish upon the stars in the night sky to grant you this one thing. Why would it? This is the prison of chaos not the oasis of miracles.

In the primal sense, it seemed like he needed YOU but love? He’s charismatic to several, which makes you turn green; your eyes full of jealousy burning behind his back. A burning that you had to dip into the vast ocean to cleanse out of your system before the pain in you revealed itself. This was where the problems that choked you lay. Flirtatious in personality and infected others with smiles, even if they got annoyed with him. No one could stay away from him and you knew he was experienced. He had that reputation after all. You knew he would compliment others; he couldn’t resist charming a pretty girl who gave him attention — that came his way, stealing what you laid naive, emotional claim to.

You knew he hooks up; you two aren’t in a relationship after all. Even if he makes you think it sometimes. You wonder how he fucks the others… the same as you? If so, you think your jealousy will hit a boiling point.

You were as possessive as he was. You just hid it well usually, at least you hoped. And yes, he spoke possessively to you, maybe because it was the heat of passion.

“You feel so good,  fuuuuck…” A grunt escaped his mouth at a particularly rough thrust that had your insides shaking. You arched a bit, accepting how greedily he wanted to bury himself inside of you — stretching you more and more to your limits every single time.

“You’re mine, say it… ah, haa…” he practically growled that out as you whimpered.

‘He didn’t mean it. He couldn’t have.’

Yet your heart instantly responded with a ‘yes, I’m completely yours, you idiot.’ That whimper caused him delight as his ocean eyes looked hazy, like a storm.

But you had a small piece of pride during these moments when he wrecked you; a shudder in your body serving to his pleasure. A pride he would no doubt, break down.

He took his free hand that wasn’t gripping your hip with a bruising force and pried your mouth fully open with his thumb. His movements speed up, slamming with reckless abandon now. ‘He’s close,’ you thought. He slightly pushed his thumb into your mouth, holding the bottom of your jaw with the rest of his hand, the tip of his thumb touching your bottom teeth, moving further in — trying to feel a bit of your tongue.

“Say it, baby… c’mon, say that you’re mine,” he didn’t growl it this time. Much to your surprise, it almost sounded like a plea rather than a command. He knew you would weaken at that tone right away.

Gasping out, you mumbled, “A-ah… y-yours…”

“Whose?” His thrust punctuated that question and his hand was still there, wanting you to mumble more. His tone changing to something rougher.

“Yours… JJ… I’m yours.” Your mouth betrayed your little pride despite it being the truth. You had no eyes for anyone else.

He groaned in satisfaction and grinned a little, then dipped his thumb fully into your mouth, making you suck. Your lips closed in and your tongue moved slightly because you would have kissed and licked every part of him.

And you did.

Just as he also did it; he would worship your body a lot of times which only made you fall into this chaos deeper. Making sure every inch of you got attention… got touched, kissed, licked, sucked; all of it. Covering you in marks as if you were his work of art, a masterpiece he wished to display because he created it and owned it. It wasn’t always a frantic fuck — a mindless release but this was what made you wish more; that he would never even glance at someone else. Your dark thoughts oozed out, the fact that you wanted to cage him and hide him from the others. See, you were pathetically obsessed with him.

He didn’t know the full extent of it; he knew you cared. Knew you were whipped to the core but he didn’t know these dark thoughts because he treated you like an angel to play with.

“You… look s’ sweet…” he rasped out, his pumps into you gaining even more speed suddenly. You could feel the throbbing of his cock start to grow. Your eyes were somewhat half-lidded, gazing with everything at him. The shimmer of light illuminated their colors. He loved your eyes for some reason and said they expressed more than you knew. Only at this moment.

“Sweetheart… ‘s pretty, perfect,” another rasp came out as his thumb slipped out of your mouth. Your saliva coated it so he placed it near his mouth, his tongue swiping his thumb to taste the wetness you left on him.

He whispered for a moment but loud enough so you could hear, “You’re worth lookin’ at more than anyone else… you know that? Takin’ me like this and lookin’ like a beaut.”

He would add in something like that, so randomly — his charming tricks just crashed into the open. Was it cheesy? Maybe. Yet it still made goosebumps appear on your skin and made your face start to heat up. It made you feel like you had a damn chance, especially with how that voice sounded.

Does he talk to the others like this? Does he seduce them all with his secretive soft praises? The first time you heard him speak like a lover boy shook you to your core — he’s smarter than others would ever give him credit for.

Then he swiped his tongue at it once more.

“HNG, tasty…” he murmured like a starved man, getting closer and closer to the edge of his release. He put that hand back on the other side of your hip; both hands firmly pinning you down to his bed more now. You squirmed because you always loved feeling his hands on you, even if they were hurting you a little.

There was a gratification in that pain.

“You taste the best, cupcake.” His face contorting in the most wonderful form of pleasure as he poured out those words.

“Y’know that, right? How tasty you are… can’t let anyone else taste it.”

The blood in your veins felt like it was ablaze, scorching your body with the heat he created.

“So fuckin’ warm… UGH — so tight… f’ me,” he panted with a whine that ruined you; he struggled to speak a little as his hips were rapidly bucking in. His stamina was something else and the relentlessness of his speed, like he was a creature. But you took him well… a match to him.

Your body tensed up at his continuous praises, ready to follow him in the orgasmic bliss that was about to wash over you both. He could feel that you were close too as he stayed attuned to you and so, he leaned over while continuing to fuck you until you saw stars. Both of you were on the edge of spilling as his mouth planted onto yours, making this moment intimate. The bed creaked from his force, the sounds of flesh slapping and the noises your mouths made that were now muffled; consuming each other.

More like, him consuming you as you couldn’t fight his dominance.

His kiss almost felt like it was stealing your soul, searching for all the love he could find as if he desperately needed… love. Taking in every moan or whine out of you, his tongue plunging into your mouth — seeking the taste of the sweetness he had taken bites of before, exploring deeply. Sometimes he’d pull your tongue out a bit so he could suck on it then resume kissing you more sweetly after. That made you feel like you were on cloud nine. That made you writhe underneath him as butterflies filled your stomach with the way he worked on you.

Then the bite would come, nibbling your bottom lip then sinking those teeth harder in, tugging to make tears slip out of you. Tears that you didn’t mind giving because you were in ecstasy.

“JJ…” You choked out, barely sounding normal at all and his body shook.

Your eyes rolled back as his cock hit that special spot and let go. He moved his face away, letting your bottom lip go — throwing back his head as his jaw clenched & he let out a guttural groan, “shiiiit… f-fuck… mine.”

He had exploded inside of you… copious amounts of his cum filling you; his cock twitching in the contentment of his climax. He collapsed on top of you instantly due to the quantity, almost squishing you and keeping that strong grip on your hips. Your hands had gripped his arms sometime between it all, now shaking.

‘Mine,’ why did he have to call you that now? It wasn’t fair. You cried out loudly, finding your finish as well as your whole body arched into his despite him pressing you into the bed — more tears streaming down your face.

His hips still stuttered and mindlessly rutted a bit until he was completely spent. Your limbs went numb, loosening… the pants of you both being the only sound as silence filled. Rapid breaths as your flesh stuck together, unwilling to separate much at all.

He didn’t speak nor did you. He didn’t pull out of you… he would stay there for a while & hide his face in the crook of your neck like he was your sweetheart once he started calming. You would lay there, letting this temporary warmth he gave you stay with you as if it was all yours. As if you two were going to be this way forever, as if HE were yours.

─────────────────────

This game you play… he plays, has to come to an end, eventually. You know that. This sweet torment he puts you through. The actions that make him seem as if he’s trying to romance you with the intention of what you silently weep for. As if he cares about keeping the heart he has captured.

For a moment, he gazes at you with something unreadable (perhaps something vulnerable), making your heart feel like it’s swelling. Mornings like these, where you’re laying in his bed after spending the night. Hope gnawed at you quietly… ‘Why is he looking at me like that?’ but hope was a cruel bitch. Promising falsity in fools like you; you wouldn’t fall for it, you would shake it off and he would look away.

‘He doesn’t love me. He never will.’

No amount of prayers can cure your addiction; as he was the drug that you kept taking. The sweetened poison you kept letting sink into you. You wanted him, selfishly so — but your love for him was real, unyielding.

Scorching your soul in its wake, fast to undo you because loving him was agony.

The unspoken words… the words of love, the deepest of your desires, the raw ones that weren’t so innocent — suffocating you each day but very slowly. Making sure you experience the most pitiful of deaths. But he knew because of those smirks and gazes he gave… he knew, deep down. Still, you tried to masquerade as a fool ignorant of your intense feelings. Parading around like he didn’t have you wrapped around his finger, that it wasn’t painfully obvious.

Does he know you’re dying? How many times has he looked at you and not realized, it’s killing you, or maybe he did — you weren’t a mind reader.

Why won’t he let you into his heart? Is that fear… he tries masking away? Is he afraid… to actually fall in love?

And why did he look at you now… with mysterious eyes for that moment? Eyes full of something.

(another note: considering pausing all my wips… & writer’s break cos motivation down atm. idk yet)

[roseykat]

TITLE: Play Fight

PAIRINGS: Hyunjin x Jisung x f!reader

SUMMARY: Hyunjin and Jisung remain stumped at what unfolded during a game of dirty truth or dare with you. There's no going back from it. No ignoring the obvious layout of what naturally happens next between the three of you under one roof where Jisung's needs get the better of him and Hyunjin's dream becomes a reality. A continuation of Play Bite.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSWF SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

TAGS: smut, hints of voyeurism/exhibitionism, swearing, oral sex (f!receiving and giving), unprotected sex, messy sex, dirty talk, porn w/plot, making out, nipple play, hints of oral fixations, begging, orgasms, deepthroating, very vague hint of cum eating, creampie, reader says 'stop' but doesn't mean it in a way where she wants to stop having sex or isn't enjoying it (she says it out of the overwhelming sensation from needing to orgasm).

🏷️LIST - @leftkittenface @twinklix @meilix @weareapackofstrays @elizalabs3 @goblin-waifu @imnotjjini0325 @livzsposts @dawn-iscozy @princejisung @itsthatbri @20minsat180degrees @groovygroovyhyunjin @stayconnecteed @chillichillicrabcrab23 @valibals @oiikaro @galamxy (I also added people who were interested in part 2 just in case)

MASTERLIST - Play Bite (First Part)

A/N: this is just pure, filthy smut. I’m hoping I tagged everyone! Thank you all for waiting patiently! 🩷 This has been checked over a couple of times but I’ll check over it once more in the morning for any mistakes etc! x

The blood running through Jisung's body had frozen over. Stiff with shock, his eyes are still glued to the screen of your phone - at the message his best friend just sent through to you. As a result, a million and one questions fire around Jisung's brain in such a short amount of time. 

The first and most important thing was deciphering whether you and Chan were together. In his mind, there was no way. No way. Chan had recently come out of a long-term relationship and even said so himself the other week that he wasn't looking for another one any time soon. That he has zero plans to dive back into the dating scene for a long time.

Not to mention, you wouldn’t do anything as terrible as cheating. Jisung trusts that and his friends wholeheartedly. 

That seemed to be his only saving grace from wanting to justify his next actions, or at least Hyunjin's, because as soon as Jisung managed to peel his eyes from the screen, he catches full sight of his two friends, lip locked. 

You were still in between Hyunjin's legs, slightly twisted around in order to reach his mouth whereas he leans down just a bit to help. His hands were dangerously close to the waistband of your underwear - your underwear which had been soaked through after getting yourself off in front of them minutes ago.

Jisung still couldn't believe he witnessed that, nor what he's witnessing right now.

It was clear that the game of truth or dare had been derailed and preoccupied by a more pressing matter. As Jisung listens to the wet sounds of your mouths moving, he feels the familiar, aching throb in his pants. A reminder that he's still hard and has been for a while.

It only gets worse for him when he watches Hyunjin eventually slide down the front of your damp underwear, feeling how warm and slick you are. It doesn't take long for his fingers to lather up nicely and ease over your sensitive clit.

This is his dream unfolding.

The way you silently plead for Hyunjin to fuck you with his long fingers by opening your legs is hampered when Jisung inches closer to the pair of you. This time in between your bent legs. Hyunjin regrettably peers up and away from you for a second, the pads of his fingers still rubbing delicate barely-there circles over your clit.

"I wanna taste you," he says, leaning forward and closer, his doe eyes gazing pleadingly.

Hyunjin removes his hand from your pussy and holds his slender, glossy fingers up to his friend's mouth. Your cum is glazed over his digits, sticky thin strings that connect his middle and ring fingers, gleaming desirably for Jisung who shuffles forward eagerly to take them in his mouth, suckling and licking everything he’s being offered. 

But it's not enough for him.

"So good," Jisung murmurs as if he's under the influence after Hyunjin retracts his fingers. "But I need more than that. Let me taste that pretty pussy of yours.”

You cower half of your face into Hyunjin's chest with embarrassment, trying to hide the flush of red his comment brings out in your cheeks. He uses his other hand to gently tuck some of your hair behind your ear.

“Alright,” you give an affirming nod to Jisung who inflates with joy on the inside. 

He leans forward once more, this time to kiss you; slowly yet heated and needy for each other. There's an equal division of lust between you and him the moment his lips connect with yours.

As he breaks away from you, his eyes lock with Hyunjin for a few lingering moments before the pair of them share yet another kiss. Neither of them cared too much about it or what it was going to mean afterwards. All they knew is that they liked it and would have no trouble doing it again.

“You’ll get your turn,” Jisung teases, licking once over Hyunjin’s plush lips. “Maybe.” 

Hyunjin scowls at him, but with that in hand, Jisung finds the band of your underwear, slowly pulling them down your thighs, all the way down to your ankles, and off. The wet mess you left for them has Jisung salivating like some rabid dog. He lowers himself onto his elbows where his hot breath washes over your inner thighs. He hasn’t started and already has you pressing back further into Hyunjin, further into his crotch where he needs you the most.

That first point of contact makes your skin tingle. He presses chaste kisses into your skin. To truly bury his mouth into your pussy, Jisung snakes his hands around your thighs, gripping lovingly into your flesh. It helps anchor him and you more importantly. You squirm and quiver, legs trembling as he begins to kitten lick over your clit, using it to wet you up even more. 

Your eyelids flutter closed, focusing on the sensation, “y-yes…feels…”

“How does it feel?” Hyunjin begs the question for you.  

It feels like nothing else you’ve ever felt before. There have been a couple of times where a man will give you good head, but not like this. Jisung knows what he’s doing. He’s taking advantage of your over sensitive pussy, switching up his tongue game by sucking and flicking to keep you just above the edge. His skills have you gripping onto Hyunjin’s thighs that still cage around your body. 

“Good, feels good,” you swallow, feeling and listening to the way Jisung has come to lap everything up in between your legs. 

Hyunjin reckons he can make you feel better too and decides to use his hands to slide underneath your shirt. He gently supports your back with one hand while Jisung continues to eat you out. The other hand unclasps your bra, giving Hyunjin free access to grope your tits under your shirt once it’s removed. By then, you’re able to lean back into his body and continue to melt from the sensations.

Strained mewls and moans tear up your throat when Hyunjin uses his index fingers and thumbs to pinch roll your nipples. He savours the pathetic whimpers you make when he starts rolling them too. You struggle helplessly against him, pressing your chest up only for him to pinch them just a little bit harder. It’s like you wanted him to stop, but you also needed him to keep going.  

“Hyun…jin, s’too much, can’t-“

He finds himself nuzzling against your face, kissing your cheek here and there as an attempt to touch you as much as he can. He lingers on the fact that you’re barely able to speak in full sentences which does something to his brain. Like he and Jisung have reduced your mind and body to a point where it only knows and seeks pleasure. There’s no room for you to be able to speak when words can’t even describe what you’re feeling. 

“Can’t what baby?” He asks. “I’m sure you can take it.”

Jisung’s mouth throws your mind off of answering Hyunjin, right when he starts flicking his tongue right over the heavily stimulated bud of nerves. Your thighs firmly clamp around Jisung’s head, trembling from its effect that Hyunjin can even feel you quiver from behind. 

Turns out his best friend is good with his mouth. Hyunjin couldn’t help but wonder what other use it has. 

“Cumming, please I need to cum,” you beg desperately.

One of your hands makes it through Jisung’s dark hair, something to hold onto to brace yourself for that intense round of pleasure. The assault from his tongue leaves you no choice but to tug and pull on his hair until Jisung himself starts moaning into your pussy from the pain - good, inviting pain. 

“Nobody’s stopping you baby. “Gonna cum for us? Again?” Hyunjin urges gently.

“Yes!” You whine pleadingly. “Mm, r-right there!”

The closer you are to the edge of your orgasm, your hips start to make subtle upward movements. Almost like you’re trying to ride his face, which Jisung welcomes, would invite actually. It’s what he wants anyway - for you to use his face until you cum all over it. 

“Don’t stop…please don’t stop, fuck!” You plead hysterically.

The pressure has you feeling like you’re about to explode into bits. Your thighs continue to squeeze unapologetically around Jisung’s head, fearing for a second that you might crush him. Meanwhile, Hyunjin’s fingers and thumbs roll and tug on your nipples. The sensations easily sweep over you, compelling deep moans and small yet shaky screams from your throat as you cum loudly. 

“Good girl,” Hyunjin exalts you with praise. “Sound so pretty…”

Jisung could’ve kept going had your body not wanted to completely give way. But he does slow down his pace for you to finally linger in what was one of the best orgasms you’ve had from getting head. It makes you melt into Hyunjin’s front, your muscles twitching yet relaxed at its best. 

“Christ…” you swallow, breathing heavily in big pockets of air. “Jisung.”

The man finally pops his head back up, a sight for you to absorb with the way his mouth is covered in your juices. The humiliation settles under your skin when you see the mess you’ve made on his face. As if he could care any less, not with the content grin he’s wearing. 

When you start descending from your high, it dawns upon you that you’ve had a total of two orgasms so far and not once have you returned the favour to Hyunjin and Jisung. Particularly Hyunjin, who hasn’t had much of your body in comparison to Jisung. He’s been sitting behind you patiently, taking all of the brunt force you made while his friend was going down on you. 

Amid the orgasmic haze in your brain, you push past it as best you can to speak, “condoms.”

Jisung nods mindlessly, trying to get the image of you looking so fucked out, out of his head. However, he snaps out of his daze and springs to his feet. He flounders around, thinking that if he doesn’t hurry up and find them, you’re both going to leave.

As Jisung is preoccupied, it gives you an opportunity to sit and turn around and face Hyunjin for the first time in half an hour.

“Lay back,” you mumble to him. 

“Hm?”

He tilts his head innocently that it makes you wonder if he’s just pretending or genuinely too dumbfounded with what you’re about to do. You shuffle forward, in between his legs still and kiss him gently. His parted mouth is so plump and supple that it makes you bite down on his lower lip and tug, forcing a tiny whimper out of him. 

“Condoms. Okay. Hyunjin, where are your condoms?” Jisung circles back to ask, checking the coffee table, the fruit bowl, even dipping into Hyunjin’s room and tearing open the drawers to his bedside table to check.

After coming up short, he returns to the lounge to see your mouth around Hyunjin’s cock, drawing long, deep, and slow strokes. He swallows hard, watching for a few moments too long until he pulls himself out his daze.

“Hyunjin,” Jisung calls out again. 

Hyunjin’s eyes roll back when you sink your entire mouth down onto his length as he grips the rug beneath him, “d-don’t have any here.”

“Shit,” he groans and strides over to the bench where he left his wallet when he first walked in.

Amongst his cards and loose change where he would also keep a few condoms for occasions like this, were unfortunately not there. Out of all the instances where he’s had spontaneous sex, this is the only time he wishes he really had them on hand. 

“I haven’t got any either-” he frowns but all he gets is a strained, echoed whimper when you deepthroat Hyunjin’s length. “Fuck…” 

Visibly spaced out for a moment, Jisung starts acting a bit like Bambi when he wants to start walking; struggling to put one foot in front of the other as he makes his way back over to you both. From this angle, he’s able to see Hyunjin in a different light. His wavy brown hair covering most parts of his face, knuckles now another shade of morbid white as he nearly shreds the carpet beneath him with his nails.

Jisung thought he looked good - fuckable. But he excuses that thought for the time being. 

“Y/N, please…fuck, not…not gonna last if y’keep doing that,” Hyunjin barely manages to get his words out, having to fight them every single time you swirl your tongue around his leaking tip. “I-I’ll cum, fuck.”

For a moment, you pull back from his cock, replacing it with your hand instead to keep up the pleasure you initiated. His body contorts and writhes, the back of his head pressing painfully into the ground. He must be an easily over-stimulated type. 

“Fuck me then,” you say to him. 

He blinks hazily, like he’s just waking up from a nap, “h-huh? But you - the-“

You were not going to listen to what he’ll start babbling about so this time, you fully abandon his dick and turn around to face Jisung who had been silently watching you both from behind. The obvious, rock hard tent in his pants was alluring. If you didn’t have other motives of getting him off first, you would be in his lap, grinding your wet pussy over his bulge. 

From the way he’s been acting, you know he’d let you too. 

Jisung gazes into your eyes like a snake that’s being charmed. He’s wondering what your next move is when your lips inch closer to his even though it’s easy to predict a kiss.

That being said, you arch your back, giving Hyunjin a not so discrete choice to fuck you. Presenting your wet hole to him as an invitation. It was a devious move but nothing in comparison to the grand scene of things. That being you and two of your best friends touching each other in ways that friends don’t normally touch. 

It isn’t ‘friend behaviour’ if you reach down into Jisung’s lap and palm his hard, neglected cock through the strains of his pants. It’s not ‘friend behaviour’ if Hyunjin moves himself closer to you so that he can delicately graze the pads of his fingers over your dripping slit. Friends don’t do this, yet, as friends, none of you could care less. 

All that mattered was sex and to be touched. To be relieved of the delicious pressure that you want to keep just so that the feeling of ‘cumming’ lasts forever. But, you all know that you can’t have too much of a good thing. You can’t get greedy when Hyunjin rises to his knees, stroking his cock a couple of times in hand. Or when he starts slicking up his length in between your wet folds and slowly pushing in. 

“S-Shit,” you gasp, causing your hand to stall over Jisung’s dick right as you were about to free him from his pants. 

His cock starts filling you up little by little. Hyunjin presses in a few centimetres then pulls back out. He does that until your pussy swallows up his entire dick nice and snug, reaching the base of it. With the amount of prep you’ve had so far, it made the process all the more easier to take the amount of inches Hyunjin packs. 

From what you can feel inside you and what you’re palming beneath your hand, it was simple to conclude that Jisung and Hyunjin were relatively similar in size. When you pull the waistbands of Jisung’s pants and underwear down, you were right in your assumption. Beads of pre cum had been leaking pitifully from his angry red tip and down his shaft, most of which were soaked up by the fabric of his clothes. 

“Fuck baby,” Jisung whines, sucking in long draws of breaths when your hand wraps around him and slowly tugs. “So good…so hot.” 

A small, tired smile spreads on your face, but his compliment does not distract you from the fact that Hyunjin has begun to thrust slowly, along with applying a soft grip on your hips. With that, you lower your mouth down onto the tip of Jisung’s cock. He hisses and grits his teeth, the sensitivity he feels is already overwhelming.

Even more so when you start taking him as much as you can. Thankfully Hyunjin’s thrusts help you take more of him too, bucking forward from the force he starts putting in. 

“Bet that…pussy feels just as good as your mouth,” Jisung says breathlessly, carding some of your hair out of the way. He bundles as much of it as he can for you, holding it in a subtle grip on top of your head. 

"It does, like warm velvet”, Hyunjin says to himself in his head as a response to his friend's comment. 

A hot, wet, and lush pocket that he has the privilege of fucking and not once did he ever fathom a possibility that is so real right now. He has to quickly snap out of his own head for a minute, distracted by that creamy ring around his cock being pushed back to the base of his cock when he slides his entire length in and out of you so fluidly. Taking him all the way. 

It’s like you were made for him…

For a second, Hyunjin was convinced you could hear his thoughts as you decided to deepen the arch in your back. His cock now repeatedly hitting a delicious angle that makes your thighs involuntarily shake each time his tip connects with it. The shockwaves of pleasure start to surge and pool inside you, waiting to be released. 

“Fuck…yes, baby,” Hyunjin mutters to himself, making the mistake of looking down at where his cock is vanishing in and out of. “Taking us so fucking well.” 

You moan around Jisung’s length at the praise, prying more strained whines and cries from him that fills Hyunjin’s ears. It has so much effect on him that he has to look up and see for himself. Jisung looks and is fucked out, like he’s already on the verge of cumming which is a given considering that you’re taking all of him like a champ. The wet sounds your mouth makes as it glides up and down Jisung’s cock sounds just as good as it feels. 

Every now and then you suck on his tip when you need to come up for some air, still making sure he has some contact before you mercilessly sink back down again. Once Jisung started rutting slightly into your mouth, tightening the grip he has on your hair, and his loud, quick paced breathing from above, you knew. You knew he wanted to cum. 

“Close, fuck I’m so close,” he swallows, biting down on his bottom lip as you bob your head up and down. “Gonna cum Y/N…gonna make me cum.” 

Hyunjin observes attentively from behind. Watching in the moments leading up to Jisung’s orgasm, the way he keels forwards, crying out in a series of loud moans as you continue to bring him to the edge, “yes, yes, yes, fuck yes!”

You feel his cock twitch in your mouth, his cum spurting out rhythmically and orgasming so hard that his body shivers over. Not once do you let up, even after his orgasm and even the fact that you have a hypothetical eye on your own which Hyunjin has been curating for you. The pressure has been built so high that it’s hard not to feel like you’re about to explode. Similar to the way you could tell Jisung was about to cum, Hyunjin could easily tell when you were. 

You had gotten noisier, even with a dick in your mouth that barred you from using any words, it was obvious the way you were feeling. Your plush walls were starting to tighten themselves cosily around Hyunjin, gripping onto him so that he wouldn’t leave. 

As you finally peel back from Jisung’s cock, a long line of spit connects you and his length, mixed with his warm cum. But in a matter of seconds, you’re already there too. You pull back entirely, now a panting, gorgeously ruined mess who’s getting railed the way people can only dream of.

Something possesses Jisung to lean forward and kiss you sloppily, quickly evolving into some messy, wet makeout. He can taste himself in your mouth, exchanging the salty residue that invites him to linger on your lips a little longer, unbothered about the fact that you’re about to be swept over by an intense orgasm. 

Only when you start breathing heavily and quickly, Jisung decides to pull away and witness the event unfold. He watches Hyunjin fuck you to your orgasm while his mind is tormented by the way that you look. How his cum mixed with your spit starts drooling out of your mouth when you start crying out from such concentrated pleasure. It feels like Hyunjin just pulled a pin to a bomb inside the pit of your stomach. 

“Oh my god,” Hyunjin groans, pulling your body back and forth onto his cock by your hips. “So fucking close.”

“S-Stop - I…cumming, fuck, I’m cumming-” your words are cut short as pleasure shoots throughout your body, fingernails digging into the carpet.  

Everything inside of you feels heightened and rocked with a euphoria so immeasurable that your entire body cannot do anything but still and take what Hyunjin gives you. His steady pace doesn’t waiver. Despite the fact that he’s seconds away from busting a warm load inside you, he’s capable of not switching things up drastically so that you get a steady flow of pleasure. 

As your walls quiver and spasm around his cock, Hyunjin coats them in a hot thick white. His bruising grasp on your hips is the other outlet he has to mitigate such an intense orgasm. As for you, all you can do is absorb yours. To take his entire cock so greedily when you cum hard that your vision has gone all blotchy. You’re seeing cosmics of tiny glistening stars on Jisung who does nothing but watch out of desire to see you lose your mind so easily. To see you writhe and tear up from how strong the ecstasy is. 

“Yes! Fuck, Hyunjin!” You scream out, moaning loudly around his apartment that both of them are sure his neighbours will hear. 

But it’s not like he cares if he ever receives a future noise complaint. It’d be an honour to know that he fucked you so good that everyone in his complex could hear you. What a dream that would be; to make you feel good all the time. A very distant dream at that. 

“That’s it,” Hyunjin sighs out when your body gives one final shudder, giving you some shallow thrusts to help ease you down. “Good girl.” 

Hyunjin pulls out slowly with a hiss as a giddy feeling in his gut that makes his mind twist when he sees his cum mixed with your juices, leak from your hole. So captivated by it that he only starts to realise that you need to lie down. Your body does what it feels like and collapses steadily onto the carpet beside Jisung who lies back with you. It’s not long before Hyunjin follows suit and rests by your other side too. 

The three of you then laze on the floor, sticky bodies meshed together for the time being as Hyunjin comes up to spoon you from behind and Jisung from the front. Minutes tick by as you all relax peacefully. You could’ve almost fallen asleep like this until Jisung, who was ‘just closing his eyes’, flashed them open and looked dead into your soul. 

“Why’d you need a condom if you let him fuck you raw?” he asks out of nowhere, suddenly expecting a long and complicated reason from you. Despite the filthy things you guys just did, his question seemed so amusingly crass. 

“Because I wanted you both to fuck me…at the same time,” you murmur tiredly yet so honestly. “Needed at least one for that.”

“Oh, r-right,” he stutters, then plays it cool. “Usually I carry them with me but-“

“You ran out?” You guess, cutting him off. “Whore.”

Jisung went to open his mouth to object your claim until Hyunjin reached over and covered it with his big hand, “shut up please.”

Hyunjin’s closes his eyes again but his brain now whirs with the thought of what could’ve been. Not that it mattered now. He enjoyed himself and he’s sure that you and Jisung did too who could not think of any words that come close to describing how he feels. His head was clear of thoughts - all except one. Chan. Or at least, what’s going on between you and Chan. Not that it was any of his business.

Nonetheless, he was interested but decided to keep it to himself for now. So while your eyes closed once more, Jisung turns around and reaches for your phone to unlock it before heading to the message he sent to Chan, and the one he received from him too. He checks it over one final time to be sure that what he read earlier was correct.  

From Chan to You: Again? Still horny from this morning? Alright then, I can come over and give you what you need x 

He still struggled to believe it. But, with that in mind, Jisung deletes the message and forgets that it ever happened knowing that the next time he sees the others, he’ll ask if they too know anything about what’s going on between you and Chan. 

For the time being, he relishes in the afterglow of one of the best nights he’s had. To rest peacefully in the warmth and comfort of his two friends.

I strictly forbid and do not permit anyone or any user to copy, re-upload, translate, remake, or pass off any of my work here on Tumblr to any other social media platform whatsoever. Doing so will result in having your account suspended, deleted, taken down, and or permanently banned.

-

A/N: 060124 - Play Right

[love-toxin]

MR O’HARA HAS ME ACTING FERAL BOTH OF MY LIPS HAS BEEN DROOLING SINCE I WATCHED ATSV OPENING NIGHT… I NEED HIM TO DESTROY ME

RIGHT??? LIKE--LIKE--

(cws: across the spiderverse spoilers, gn pronouns, smut, rough sex, mating press, size kink, biting/venom, belly bulges, mindbreak(?), breeding mention, a bit of forbidden love trope)

Like....imagine, if you will, becoming an assistant for the Spider-society after your dimension is destroyed. It's mostly because Miguel took pity on you since you're not a spider-person, you had nothing to do with the unravelling of your world, and/or you were meant to gain your spider-powers but an anomaly in your dimension prevented it. Since there's no place for you in another multiverse, he keeps you on his team both to give you asylum and to keep an eye on you just in case you prove to be an anomaly yourself....but it becomes pretty clear pretty early on that you're not really a threat. Not for violence, at least.

You're just a sweet thing that gets doted on by nearly everyone in the society--you're either a refreshing break from the endless spiderman variants running around or you remind the spiders of their Mary Janes, their Gwen Stacies, their Gayatri Singhs, and being a civilian to boot makes you the perfect candidate to have your things carried for you and be given web-slinging rides around the facility even though you're supposed to be the assistant here.

But even so, even though you're treated so lightly, Miguel really likes you and even--gasp--enjoys your company. It can be hard to tell with him, but the most perceptive of the spiders notice that Miguel keeps you in his good graces always. When he's stressed or in a bad mood, he collects himself before he speaks to you. He never snaps at you, and on the very rare times you get caught in his crosshairs, he apologizes quietly and gently and reiterates that whatever it was about, it wasn't your fault. He gives you so much wiggle room for error to the point that his companions sometimes complain outright that he's such a hardass, but he never berates you when you make a mistake, and without fail Miguel will come up with some reason for it; "That's because they don't screw up as often as you do" or "At least I can trust them to do their job", or he'll just tell whoever's bitching to leave you out of it and he'll dismiss you to discuss the matter privately.

Surprisingly, those incidents don't bother him nearly as much as when the inner circle starts getting closer to you. He feels this deep need to pull you away when Gwen offers to take you on a trip through the dimensions (although that's just plain dangerous), but it also bubbles up when Hobie hangs around and encourages you to join his band, and when Jess asks you questions about your life and is eager to hear about any potential romances you might be getting yourself into--there's a lot of single spider-people out there, and you're not tied to any dimension, so you've got plenty of options!

God, Miguel hates when Jess brings that up. You don't need to go anywhere, your place is here. You can stay here safely, which is something he can't promise in any of those other dimensions the spiders come from. But that's not the real reason, he realizes that when he feels that tingle at the sight of you holding Mayday and playing with her, having been given the task of impromptu babysitter for Peter when he has to rush off and do damage control somewhere.

It's you. He likes having you around, and it's not about letting you venture off into other dimensions, he just doesn't want you to leave him. That's why he loves it when you reply to those people, when you tell them "Oh, but I couldn't leave Mr. O'Hara! He'd lose his head without me." or "I really like this job, actually. I wanna keep working under Mr. Miguel." and especially "Miguel saved my life, I owe him all I can give. I could never leave him all alone." because it just reaffirms that desire for him to keep you as close to his side as possible. When he replays those videos of himself and his daughter, the pain is dulled for a while as he sees your eyes in hers, and envisions a future where you create a new family with him--one that he can properly protect this time.

It's that fantasy that emboldens him to lay hands on you, your body so puny and small in comparison to his massive frame, so fragile as he holds your hips in both hands and waits for you to tell him this isn't really what you want. He's waiting for it, anticipating it, even reminding you that you have the option when you look up at him shell-shocked. He promises that your answer won't affect your position here. It falls on deaf ears, however, because you desperately want to kiss him but you just don't think you can reach.

It's so adorable to see you try. Up on your tiptoes, clutching at his suit, straining to try and reach him where he's at--all it takes is an arm around your waist and he's got you off your feet and in the air, perfectly situated to press your pretty mouth to his own and awaken his instincts that have laid dormant all these long years. The stress of keeping each and every dimension following its intended canon has nearly broken him, it might have done so already if not for your unexpected appearance in his life. It's riled him up so much he doesn't think twice about taking you back to his place, nor gives him second thoughts when you help him peel that tight suit off and he tears through your clothes just as easily--maybe it really doesn't matter. His world is gone and so is yours, but you're both still here and you're begging him for another kiss, for more attention. How sweet could you possibly be? Pleading for something you'll always have and not realizing it's the least you deserve, perfect as you are?

Miguel just can't help himself anymore, he's too far gone and you’re too angelic for him to let down when you want him so badly. You don't seem to mind the rough treatment as he pushes you down either, no, you thrive on his aggressiveness and even encourage it to come out as he clambers over you. That pretty smile and those giggles as he shoves your thighs apart and spits, his venom sending electrifying tingles up and down your spine as he fingers the makeshift lube inside you. He's so bulky you can't even get your legs all the way around him when he lowers himself, forced to let your heels scrabble down his lower back as you struggle to find some kind of purchase on him--to just grab something and let it keep you steady as he slides in and rocks you into oblivion. The toxins loosen you up too, thank god, or else you'd be seriously struggling to take him in when he's practically twice your size. And he doesn't want to force it in, he just wants to ease you into the process before he allows himself to batter your poor body with thrusts that shake the whole bed--it's a little bit of payback for flaunting your pretty self around his office without ever telling him how you actually feel about him. Now you know exactly what you've been missing.

Drooling, hair sticking to your skin, sweat dripping down your chest, body gripping him like a vice yet endlessly slick....you're a total mess and he couldn't be more satisfied. You don't even try to keep yourself together, but that's all that he wants--he wants you to lose yourself in the way he makes you feel so you won't ever want to leave. The taboo is there; you're not from his dimension, he shouldn't be planning any kind of future with someone who doesn't belong in his world. But it makes it all more thrilling in the moment even if he can reason his way around it, it makes his every thrust gain power until he's breaking your willpower down enough to have your eyes rolling back in your head, hips jumping weakly as you try to participate. You don't even know how good you make him feel without lifting a finger.

Gliding through you as if you couldn't be more willing to take him, his position is clear just from a glance down at your stomach--the bulge is obvious, and as sickening as it could be your whines as you brush your fingertips over it sing his praises without a coherent word. You're so wet and stupid and needy on his cock, clearly he should've done this a long time ago when you were so much worse at hiding your pining looks at him from across the room. If he knew it would culminate into this, he would've saved the assistant crap and turned you into his stress relief toy that very first day. If he had, you might've already had a family by now....knowing him, at least.

It's still just as sweet to lick your tears up now, though. You're already drunk on his cock, it doesn't make much more difference for him to sink his fangs into your throat and pump you full of more venom straight from the source, the shock sending you straight into orgasm and dragging it out for so long he fears you might just pass out from the pleasure. It's like he's juicing up a plump little fruit until it's so ripe it could burst. And as if your own ecstasy wasn't enough, you really lose it when Miguel has you pinned and flooding that sore, fluttering little hole with so much seed it burns. Jets of pearly-white cum squirting down your thighs, painting you like a canvas without him even pulling out, because you just can't take him at his peak and you know it. You just have to whine and squirm beneath him as he fills you up, his hot breath puffing over your cheeks as he keeps you barely still enough not to wiggle away. With a shift of your hips you nearly slip off right up to the tip, his cum sloshing about and making everything too slick--but a hand slides up your neck and grips the crown of your head, his biceps flexing as he slowly pushes you back down with vermillion eyes piercing through your heated flesh. Lower, deeper, until he's seated himself up in your guts again and holds you there to milk those last few shots out of him, keep him nice and warm with those precious walls uncontrollably spasming around him. Doesn't stop you from pulling his head down closer, though, and whispering your praises while begging in whimpers in equal measure, urging him not to stop now. You're not ready to let him go.

How convenient is that? Miguel won't ever let you go, and he's known that deep in his chest since the moment you arrived--it couldn't make him any more satisfied to know that you feel the exact same way.

[theresattrpgforthat]

Mint Plays Games: Changelings, Trauma & Gaming

Over the course of October and November, I returned to one of my favourite ttrpgs of all time with @thydungeongal and my girlfriend: Changeling the Lost. About once or twice a year, I get the itch to run the 1st edition of this lovely, lore-heavy game, and every year I come away from it thinking about its potential. This is meant to be a quick break-down of my latest Changeling session, as well as a reflection on the parts of Changeling that really touch my heart.

The Game.

This game happened over three sessions, involving a character creation session, and two sessions of play. We had one character who was a Darkling Gravewright - folks who dealt with the dead in their time in Faerie (and can also see ghosts), and another who was a Fairest Flamesiren, whose entire deal is about burning bright, but also burning out quickly.

I decided to give these girls a murder mystery, with a mortal body found just outside a gate to a Goblin Market, and a missing changeling to track down. We’d talked about themes of grief and addiction prior to my planning stage, so I figured dealing with both a death and a place that offers your wildest dreams (for a price) might be a good place to start.

I don’t like planning out specific plot beats in my games, so instead I tried designing the Market like an adventure location, with various vendors to tempt the players with their wares, while dotting the landscape with NPCs in various states of distress. I figured the Changelings would pick something that resonated with them, and we could go from there. This process also generated a few different villainous characters who could be responsible for the murder, which I’m glad I did, because as usual, what the players decide to do always falls outside the bounds of what the GM plans for.

The story ended up being about saving a kidnapped changeling from a hungry Fae, and bluffing through a group of Privateers (read: mercenaries) and bringing the victim to safety. However, they didn't escape completely unscathed - coming face to face with a True Fae caused a cascade of terrible memories coming back to visit one of our characters right after she thought she'd made it to safety.

Our session was an introduction to the world and lore of Changeling, and I feel like I did a pretty good job on that front. On the other hand, I felt like it was just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the things I think Changeling can be about.

The Potential

When it comes to the World of Darkness in general, I think Changeling: the Lost has a relatively sleek amount of lore regarding the various Courts, Seemings, and faerie characters. Each Changeling’s durance can be typified, but ultimately what they went through can be up to the player who designs them, and the Hedge is limitless in its weird and strange creatures, which gives the GM license to create all kinds of goblins and monsters to fit what they want their game to be about - and the players aren’t really expected to know what’s going on in there anyways. Most Freehold history exists in rumour, because talking too openly about it feels like you’re inviting the Fae to your front doorstep, and in the same way, the true nature of the Fae is left up to rumour and superstition, allowing your group to decide what they really are, or leave their nature forever a mystery.

That being said, the toys that you can play with are still more numerous than anything that you can fit into any one campaign, even if you’re playing that campaign for 4+ years. You can very easily play Changeling as a magical urban fantasy game (and I’ve done this fairly regularly with my group), but C:tL also has a lot of poignant themes that can delve into themes about trauma, addiction, and mental health.

Disclaimer: CtL is not always graceful in the way it represents mental health. There are antagonists presented in the books that come across as “madmen”, some pretty gross Merits you can take that can feel bad to play at most tables, and characters that have lost what makes them human, becoming threats to the players. However, I think that the Clarity system does have some interesting ideas in it that, if treated with care, can still provide some interesting depth to the game.

Clarity

Clarity is meant to be a measure of how well your character can tell truth from Fiction - a high enough Clarity score, and you can sniff out a Fae even if they’re trying to hide themselves; a low enough Clarity Score, and you have a hard time differentiating colour and smell, and might even start seeing an overlay of your Durance infiltrating your weekly grocery trip.

Your Changeling moves up in Clarity if they’re able to keep a stable life with elements that help you ground yourself and give you a sense of identity - and mechanically, once you spend Experience points. Your Changeling moves down in Clarity when they suffer “sins” - moments that disrupt that hard-won stability. This sins could be something we’d consider morally fraught, such as stealing, assaulting someone, or murder - but they could also be significant life changes, like losing your job, buying a house, losing a friend or getting married. You also always suffer a Clarity sin when you come in contact with a reminder of your durance - particularly a True Fae.

The higher your Clarity score is, the harder it is to keep yourself there. Smaller and smaller things can trigger a Breaking point, like going a day without human contact, starting a new college course, or using a Faerie token. Furthermore, the lower your Clarity score, the more difficult it is for you to tell truth from fiction - think of the scenes in Mockingjay where Peeta has to ask Katniss “real or not real” and try to trust her answers.

It doesn’t help that so many pieces of the Changeling experience after getting out of the Hedge seems designed to Fuck You Up - like the doppelgänger that’s been living your life ever since you left, or the fact that mortals can’t seem to notice the ways that Faerie has changed you: you can feel the horns on your head, but all they touch is a well-coiffed hairstyle. In many ways it feels like your whole experience with Faerie is invisible - and you’re fairly certain that even if you told a mortal the truth, they’d never believe you. If they did believe you, they would never treat you the same again.

I like this system because it doesn't really measure how "good" or "bad" your character is - instead it's a representation of how your lived experiences can often trigger symptoms even if others get lucky enough to survive those events with their mental health intact. I'm not a bit fan of derangements - but I think dropping in Clarity is an excellent time to ask characters about pieces of their time in Faerie that haunt them, and perhaps saddle them with Frailties instead - what personal rules do you have to follow in order to navigate the world when you have a hard time telling friend from foe?

Other Themes & Metaphors

The Fae themselves are also exquisite boogeymen, mercurial abusers without the familiar human emotions that we might feel more equipped to understand. They act on their whims and follow their appetites - and while real-life abusers often have very human reasons for being that way, we need not feel such compunctions from the Fae.

We might have to feel some compunctions about their right-hand Loyalists however, changelings who have agreed to work for their Fae Masters in exchange for some semblance of freedom. These are enablers: giving the Fae a step into the mortal realm and throwing mortals and other Lost under the bus, just so the True Fae won't turn their abuses back onto them.

Much of the ethos of the seasonal courts in the first edition has to do with different strategies for preventing a day where you find yourself back under your abuser’s control. Do you pretend that everything is fine, because they won’t recognize their victims if they’re happy? Make yourself physically stronger so you can tell yourself that you’ll win next time? Amass magic rituals in the hopes that learning just the right order of steps will keep you safe? Or do you make yourself as un-interesting as possible in the hopes that they give up on you for other prey? (Yes, I think the Winter Court could totally be all about grey-rocking).

On top of that, the Changelings that your characters embody (and interact with) are far from perfect. They have vices, fears and trauma responses that pull and push them into a dance of backstabbing, power-grabbing politics, full of seeking the upper hand and possibly even selling out their fellows in a gambit meant to keep the Fae focused on someone other than them. (A political game or LARP with these themes in mind feels so juicy to me.)

Next is the metaphors of power and/or addiction. The higher your Wyrd is, the more Glamour you can hold, and the more powerful your magic is. At the same time, the more Glamour you can hold, the more you need to hold it: what starts as a fun magical resource can grow into an addiction, if you lean into it hard enough. Sure, your Contracts become easier to activate and you can Incite Bedlam if you get powerful enough, but are you willing to chance withdrawal if you can’t get your daily fix of goblin fruit? How much are you willing to play with human emotions in order to get that sweet sweet taste of anger or grief?

Then there’s the seeming-specific traumas. Beasts struggle with wondering whether they can be human after giving in to animal instinct; Darklings fell into Faerie because they crossed an invisible or moral line and have had to make morally questionable decisions in order to survive. Elementals are used to being treated as part of the scenery, moulded to fit the whims of their captors; Fairest are constantly pressured to be the prettiest or the best with the threat of terrible terrible things should they fail. Ogres have undergone terrible physical hardships, including physical mistreatment and deprivation, while Wizened have been told time and time again that they are only worth something if they are useful. Stepping out of Faerie doesn’t magically “fix” any of these complexes, and as a result each Seeming has to wrestle with stereotypes even amongst their own: if you need someone murdered, go to a Darkling, If you need something made, go to a Wizened. If you need a hot piece of ass, a Fairest is sure to oblige - right?

Lastly, there's the Fetch: a copy of yourself that was made to replace you when the Fae took you away. This other-you is often so much better or so much worse than the person they used to be - they can act as a foil to your character, haunting you or making your life difficult, reminding you of who you used to be, or never letting others forget how badly you may have screwed up. In Changeling society, killing your Fetch is at the very least a regrettably convenient way of tying up loose ends, and at the most, a rite of passage. But it's also a surefire way to risk losing Clarity. Kind of a catch-22 situation, isn't it?

My Experience So Far

Past Changeling sessions I’ve run have included NPCs getting kidnapped by misguided friends, stumbling across characters who were at an all-time Clarity low, trying to save other Changelings from their Faerie kidnappers, cannibals, Fetches, and antagonists who are set out to betray one or more factions of the Freehold that is supposed to protect them. It’s always bits and pieces of what feels like a bigger picture.

On the one hand, I think that's to be expected. There's so much in this game, and I doubt that any campaign can really dig in to all of its systems and complexities. On the other hand, I’m not sure if I’ve been able to really dig into the themes of Changeling: the Lost in the way that I’d really love to be able to do.

The subject matter can be so close to real struggles, that I’m nervous about making those struggles too bare-faced at my local table. Gas-lighting, torture, hallucinations, drug abuse and cannibalism are so very easy to drop into a Changeling game, but are also so very easy to hit uncomfortable moments for someone who's unprepared.

At the same time, I think that playing a game like Changeling with a high-trust table that uses robust safety features has so many interesting stories that can give power to players, even if the setting is technically a horror one. I’ve been having conversations with @psychhound about a lot of the themes that folks try to explore in ttrpgs, especially in response to this post he commented on back in April. To summarize that conversation: TTRPGs are a great way for folks to tackle personal struggles and traumas from a safe place, in ways that can give them a cathartic experience or that can give them a fresh sense of identity. Changeling has been a significant part of those discussions.

I came to Changeling: the Lost as a fairly new GM the first time I picked it up, and the more I learn about Safety Tools and a culture of care, the closer I feel to getting to that game that lives in my head that lured me into TTRPGS in the first place. Every time I come back to It, I think I'm closer to pulling together a Changeling game that sinks its teeth into the themes I’m interested in and hit some of the grime beneath all that glitter. So every time I come back to it, I’m going to create funky little goblins and design weird Fae bars and take the characters’ memories and ask them why they hurt - figuring out how I can twist the knife just enough to peel back the glamour, without opening any wounds that we’re trying to keep closed.

[2-dsimp]

D͟͟͟͞͞͞A͟͟͟͞͞͞R͟͟͟͞͞͞L͟͟͟͞͞͞I͟͟͟͞͞͞N͟͟͟͞͞͞G͟͟͟͞͞͞ C͟͟͟͞͞͞A͟͟͟͞͞͞F͟͟͟͞͞͞E͟͟͟͞͞͞: F͟͟͟͞͞͞e͟͟͟͞͞͞a͟͟͟͞͞͞t͟͟͟͞͞͞u͟͟͟͞͞͞r͟͟͟͞͞͞i͟͟͟͞͞͞n͟͟͟͞͞͞g͟͟͟͞͞͞ t͟͟͟͞͞͞h͟͟͟͞͞͞e͟͟͟͞͞͞ Y͟͟͟͞͞͞a͟͟͟͞͞͞n͟͟͟͞͞͞d͟͟͟͞͞͞e͟͟͟͞͞͞r͟͟͟͞͞͞e͟͟͟͞͞͞ V͟͟͟͞͞͞I͟͟͟͞͞͞P͟͟͟͞͞͞ O͟͟͟͞͞͞n͟͟͟͞͞͞i͟͟͟͞͞͞ P͟͟͟͞͞͞o͟͟͟͞͞͞l͟͟͟͞͞͞i͟͟͟͞͞͞c͟͟͟͞͞͞e͟͟͟͞͞͞m͟͟͟͞͞͞a͟͟͟͞͞͞n͟͟͟͞͞͞

“So that’s it? All I need to do is just sign the NDA? And I can start working at the Darling cafe? There’s no need for my job interview at all?” You asked, in an apprehensive manner. Looking down at the sheet of paper which was placed in front of you by the smiley masked man who went by the name of Smiles.

“Yup! No need for a job interview or anything remotely tedious! You’ve already been approved by me, the head honcho of this particular Darling cafe branch. So there’s no need.” Your soon-to-be boss sounded off with a humorous tone in his airy voice that wasn’t muffled behind the mask. He merely spun a pen between his gloved fingers as if he was on autopilot. His other hand propping up his chin as he stared at you from his eye holes.

“All I require is for you to work wholeheartedly as a fine Darling in our establishment! Simple enough yeah?” He added, his tone carefree as he then leaned back within his office chair. His legs were crossed, while his arms moved to the back of his head.

This was your golden ticket out of debt! Your father being the deadbeat he was shifted all his debt onto you. His eldest child so that he could live Scot free and mooching off of the poor souls he swindled out of their money. To spend on drinking and gambling.

“Wow that’s great! You know I’ve heard some rumors about this place.” Smiles, stilled his eyes growing dark. He then inched forward from his lax position to hunch over the office table like a brooding old man. “Hah? What rumors did you hear sweetheart? Nothing strange right?”

“No, not at all! I’ve only been hearing good things about how the Darlings get paid generously. And even get healthcare benefits as well. I just wanted to fact check if that was true if that’s alright?” You rambled sheepishly, you had hoped that the rumors were true. You needed all the grace you could get with the shitty situation you’ve been held captive in.

After working many part time jobs that only paid minimum wage. You couldn’t help but be frustrated at how little of a dent you’ve made in getting your father’s debt off your shoulders. So it made you desperate to find any kind of job that would provide you the leverage you need to save yourself from potentially being sold off as collateral by the loan sharks.

“Oh that’s what you meant by rumors, haha! Yes you’ll be paid generously! As hazard pay will also be included.” You blinked at his words, hazard pay? What could be so hazardous working at a cutesy cafe of all things? You wanted to ask a question about it only for him to brush it off with an air of nonchalance.

“Don’t worry about that tibit too much it’s just a precaution per se. Since we cherish our Darlings dearly.” Smiley said with a serious undertone, while he had leaned back in his rolly chair to pull out a drawer to retrieve two stamps. Setting one onto the table next to you while he held the other in his grasp.

“Now to wrap things up, all I need you to do is sign the dotted line and then stamp yourself. Any part of the body will be fine.” He instructed, absentmindedly loosening up his tie. As if the mask he was wearing was making him feel a bit heated.

“Um stamp myself? As in just me and not the paper itself?” You asked dumbly, taking ahold of the stamp. It smelled alluringly sweet from the ink it was coated in. But the stamp mark would just wear off right? So what was the point?—

“It won’t wash off, it’s permanent. If that was what you’re wondering about dear.” Smiley, hummed pulling down his arm sleeve to reveal his stamp mark. It was a small QR code imprint on his inner wrist. “Let’s just say that It’s a safety measure we take to have your identity registered in our employee system. As lots of rats try to impersonate our workers/patrons or sneak in uninvited.”

That statement unnerved you a bit, but you didn’t have any time to waste. With determined hands you stamped yourself on the body part of your choosing. And steadily signed the dotted line completely missing how Smiles eyes had glowed faintly behind the holes of his mask.

His grip on the helm of the stamp he had splintered from the bubbling joy he felt at nabbing yet another prospective darling under his wing. The masked man could practically taste the sweet victory on his tongue. from beating his petty associate in a bet for whoever could pull in the most Darlings for their Yandere patrons.

“Well it’s been a pleasure. Welcome to the team Darling! Now let’s get you all prepped and ready for your debut to our lovely Patrons I’m sure you’d be a popular choice. ”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧

“Alrighty Mister Koori, your Yandere Patron ID is all set for the Darling cafe!” Chimed the Helper at the front desk, they were neither a darling nor a fellow Yandere patron and seemed to be a working third party between the two factions within the Darling cafe. “Thank you for taking the time to fill out the questionnaires, it’s just to make sure your profile is 100% accurate for future darling match making.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧

The Helper hummed, tapping away at the service patron screen. Glancing up at the giant Oni man, who was a whooping 10 feet tall. Making everything dwarfed from his size, where he had to duck his head to avoid his horns from scraping against the top of the front door entrance. “And seeing as you’ve invested in becoming a VIP member of ours would you like to see the latest edition of Darlings within our fine establishment?”

“…”

Wordlessly the Water Oni extended his huge calloused hand towards the attendant. Waiting for the catalog to be placed within his grasp his face remaining blank. Though his frosty eyes betrayed his nonchalance with a glimmer of interest.

“None of these will do.”

Shimo, grumbled underneath his tusks. Scanning over the catalog over trying to find someone who’d be the calm to his brewing storm. The only reason he even invested his time in coming out here. Despite his distaste for being in a public crowded setting.

Was because of his police patrol partner, Naan’s recommendation of the Darling cafe. Singing it high praise reviews of how the cafe helped them to successfully capture their own lover.

“Well sir how about you take a look at the exclusive selection for our VIP guests. I’m assuming you’re looking for the sunshine type of Darling, yes?” The Helper guessed and Shimo merely nodded truthfully. Liking how observant the worker was saving him from any needless chatter about what he was searching for.

The previous darlings on the public catalog looked so bland in his eyes. The Policeman wanted a darling who’d be his ray of sunshine on a rainy day. An optimistic type if you will, as it’ll complement against his cynical outlook on society. Thanks to his tireless job of catching felons and menaces to society for a living.

“This one…I want them to serve me.”

Shimo said softly, his claw tapping at your portrait within the exclusive catalog. Where your profile appeared underneath the Newbie Darlings listings. He admired the way you were so cute in the picture. Hair all messy with a sheepish smile on your lips, you looked as if you walked into a gust of wind which knocked you off kilter. And it was no doubt your newbie appearance that attracted him.

“Hoh? You’ve got a good eye! Luckily that darling has just been recruited to be working with us today on opening night. I’ll be sure to schedule the both of you to meet immediately” The rapid typing from the Helper alongside a sound ping coming from Shimo phone. Indicated that the date had been set for 9pm, right around where his shift would end.

With a chuff of satisfaction he tipped his hat towards the Helper and sauntered off ducking once more underneath the door frame. His cold heart thrumming with heat from the thought of being able to meet his prospective darling in just a couple hours.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧

[9:00pm Opening night of the Darling Cafe]

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧

The whistling bells from the door rang as a familiar giant figure slouched his way through the small entrance. Shimo, was dressed in a traditional Oni garb, of exotic divine beast furs, his iron club situated right upon the strap of his waist.

He already had a look of annoyance at hearing how chatty everyone was in the cafe. Dreading jam packed spaces as he was easily prone to anger given his temperament. Nonetheless, the blue oni was guided by the Helper who greeted him politely. Making way for the VIP section where the ogre was pleasantly surprised with how spacious and quaint the area was.

“Mister Koori, here is your VIP seating section. So whenever you come in you can just waltz on in here and get comfortable without needing to wait in line” They had booths tailored for Yandere Patrons of all shapes in sizes. Ranging from the Giant plus section for the bigger customers. And fairy sized section for the smaller ones.

The Helper then checked his watch. His eyes fixated on the moving hands before he grew a faint smile. “Well mister Koori the Newbie Darling you’ve requested will be arriving shortly! Just tap this button if you need my assistance or have any questions.”

With a polite bow the Helper waltzed away back to his station at the front desk leaving Shimo to his thoughts. But it wasn’t long until his train of thought derailed at feeling a cold splash on his attire alongside a faint presence falling against him. He blinked slowly, veins popping out one by one as his tusks grew in pure agitation. He was about to put his iron club to good use.

That is until he heard your apologetic frantic voice drowning in his ears like a pleasant water stream. His chilled glare softened seeing the newbie Darling he’d handpicked himself. Situated between his thighs clutching onto the server platter. Their outfit also covered in the daiquiri slush.

“I’m so sorry! Oh no your exotic furs— My god they look like they cost more than my life, Just give me a moment I’ll wash them myself ASAP—”

Your floundering made his lips twitch upwards a bit in a slight smile. He didn’t look like it but he did enjoy fucking with people despite his no nonsense attitude.

“It does cost more than your life. These furs came from divine beasts I killed myself. It wasn’t an easy feat.” The Water oni spoke, his words as tranquil as the ocean. Glowering down at you with a half lidded gaze. His large clawed fingers gently tilting your chin upwards so your eyes met with his own.

“I could file for destruction of property in this case. So what’re you going to offer me as compensation? To make me overlook this incident, Darling?”

.

.

.

Let me know if yall wanna see more of the Darling Cafe! ψ(｀∇´)ψ

[alexstalkers]

Healing Hearts

includes: alex karev in the beginning of his peds residency, a seattle grace mercy west merger which involves a new mercy west transfer....

black fem surgical resident! reader x alex karev

song inspiration: ivy- taylor swift

---------------------

Y/N walked into Seattle Grace, the bustling environment a sharp contrast to her previous residency. As a new resident transfer, she knew she had to prove herself. Her heart pounded with a mix of excitement and nervousness as she reported for her first day on Arizona Robbins' pediatric service.

"You're the new resident, Y/N?" Arizona greeted her with a warm smile. "Welcome to Peds. You'll be working closely with Dr. Karev today. He knows my service and he'll help you if you have any questions."

Y/N had heard of Alex Karev's reputation. He was known for his exceptional skills with children but also for his abrasive personality. She was determined not to let his reputed arrogance faze her.

When she met Alex in the pediatric ward, she was struck by his intense eyes and the air of confidence he exuded. "You're the new transfer?" he asked, not looking up from the chart he was reviewing.

"Yes, I'm Y/N," she replied, trying to keep her tone professional.

"Okay, let's get one thing straight. I don't have time to babysit," Alex said, finally looking at her. "Just stay out of my way, and we'll be fine."

Y/N bit back a retort. "I'm here to learn and help. Let's just focus on the patients."

Their first case together was a young boy named Liam, suffering from cardiomyopathy. The child's condition was delicate, and his treatment required careful coordination. Despite their initial friction, both Y/N and Alex were deeply invested in Liam's well-being.

"His latest tests show worsening heart function," Y/N said, frowning at the results. "We need to act fast."

Alex nodded. "We need to discuss his case with Dr. Robbins. If we don't come up with a new plan, he won't make it."

They presented their findings to Arizona, who decided on a risky but potentially life-saving surgery. Throughout the procedure, Y/N and Alex worked in perfect sync, their combined skills bringing the best possible care to Liam. In the days following the surgery, Y/N and Alex found themselves spending more time together. They worked late into the night, monitoring Liam's progress and making sure he was stable.

----------------------

One evening, after a particularly exhausting shift, they found themselves alone in the residents' lounge. Alex, surprisingly, broke the silence.

"So, you're a Mercy West transfer?" he asked, his tone less harsh than usual.

"Yeah," Y/N replied, sipping her coffee. "Since the merger. What about you? You've been here a while, right?"

"Yeah, since my intern year." Alex said. "It's a great program. "

Y/N nodded. "I can see that. But I like it so far. The team is great, and the cases are challenging."

Alex looked at her, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "You handled Liam's case well. Most new residents would have freaked out."

Y/N felt a warm flush of pride. "Thanks. You weren't so bad yourself."

--------------------

As the weeks passed, they continued to work together, their initial animosity giving way to mutual respect. They shared stories about their backgrounds, their dreams, and their fears. Y/N found herself looking forward to their shifts together, her heart skipping a beat whenever Alex smiled at her. One day, as they were preparing for another surgery, Y/N noticed Alex seemed distracted. "Everything okay?" she asked gently.

Alex hesitated before answering. "Just...family stuff. My brother's in town, and it's complicated."

Y/N placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "If you need to talk, I'm here."

Alex looked at her, surprise and gratitude in his eyes. "Thanks, Y/N. I might take you up on that."

Their bond continued to grow, each moment together strengthening their connection. They laughed more, confided in each other, and began to realize that the line between professional and personal was blurring.

One night, after another successful surgery, they found themselves standing on the hospital roof, the city lights sparkling below them.

"You know," Alex said, his voice soft, "I never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad you're here."

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with emotion. "Me too, Alex. Me too."

As they stood there, side by side, they knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together. In the midst of the chaos and the heartbreak of Seattle Grace Mercy West, they had found something unexpected: each other.

--------------------

During the weeks following their initial meeting, Y/N and Alex found themselves thrown together in a variety of challenging cases. Each case revealed more about their personalities and work ethics, slowly breaking down the walls they had built around themselves.

In one particularly intense case, they treated a toddler with a rare genetic disorder. The child's condition was rapidly deteriorating, and both Y/N and Alex had to rely on each other to come up with a treatment plan.

"His genetic markers indicate a possible enzyme deficiency," Y/N pointed out during one of their late-night strategy sessions. She was surrounded by stacks of medical journals and lab reports.

Alex leaned over the table, scanning the data. "Good catch. Let's run a specific panel to confirm and then we can start the enzyme replacement therapy."

Their combined efforts paid off, and the toddler began to show signs of improvement. The victory was a turning point in their relationship. They began to see each other as partners rather than competitors.

One day, after a long shift, Y/N and Alex found themselves in the on-call room, too exhausted to go home. They lay on opposite bunks, the room dimly lit by a small bedside lamp.

"Why did you choose pediatrics?" Y/N asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

Alex turned his head to look at her. "Kids are resilient. They can go through hell and still bounce back. I guess I wanted to be a part of that."

Y/N nodded, understanding. "I get that. I love their spirit, their will to fight. It’s inspiring."

As the days turned into weeks, they shared more personal stories. Y/N learned about Alex’s difficult childhood and his struggles with his family. In return, Y/N opened up about her own challenges, including the pressures she faced at her previous residency.

Their late-night conversations became a routine, each one drawing them closer. They began to anticipate each other's needs in the operating room, moving with a synchronicity that amazed their colleagues.

One evening, after successfully performing a complex surgery on a newborn, they sat in the hospital cafeteria, finally allowing themselves to relax.

"Do you remember the first time we met?" Y/N asked with a smile.

Alex chuckled. "Yeah, I wasn't exactly welcoming."

"That's an understatement," Y/N replied, laughing. "But you've grown on me, Karev."

"You too, Y/N. You too."

Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the bustling cafeteria faded away. They both knew something significant had shifted between them.

As the relationship evolved, so did their feelings. They began to steal glances at each other in the hallways, their touches lingered a little longer, and their conversations took on a deeper, more intimate tone.

One night, after another grueling shift, they found themselves alone on the hospital roof again, the cool night air providing a welcome respite.

"Sometimes, I wonder how I got so lucky to have you as a partner," Alex said, his voice sincere.

Y/N turned to him, her heart pounding. "I feel the same way, Alex."

He reached out, taking her hand in his. The touch was electrifying, sending a shiver down Y/N’s spine. They stood there, hand in hand, the city lights below them, knowing that they had found something rare and precious in each other.

He stepped closer, cupping her face in his hands. "Then let's see where this goes."

They shared their first kiss under the starlit sky. From that moment on, they faced every challenge together, their love growing stronger with each passing day. In the chaotic world of Seattle Grace Mercy West, they had found their calm, their solace, and their love.

[bibidibaabidibuu]

mulan: the best disney character ever made

okay, i may be in a disney phase right now. but as a fellow asian, there is no way i'm going to talk about disney princesses without mentioning the best disney princess (character) disney has ever made - mulan.

originally a legendary chinese folk heroine from the northern dynasty era in chinese history. the disney adaptation of mulan is somewhat similar, only difference is that she had siblings in the original folklore, and she had to go to war because her brother was too young and her father was too old, and at the end, she revealed her identity only after returning home.

let's face it, the fact that a disney princess went to war made her stand out from the rest of the lineup. let's go over a few badass facts about her in the movie: 1. she wasn't going to give up because she did bad in training. her perseverance and determination led to her trying over and over, pulling herself up that pole that literally no other men in the army could do. she's unbending, not willing to give up without putting up a fight, and she not only proved to li shang and her peers that she's not weak, she proved to herself after all that self-doubt that she's just as capable as anyone else, more than anyone else if anything. 2. the fucking avalanche scene. the fact that she was smart enough, quick-witted enough to plot that within seconds with her enemy right in front of her, clearly using her brain for a good cause to save her entire army which consisted of about 50 people against thousands of huns. war is about tactics, and she demonstrated just that. she also ignored the pain of her wound to pull li shang up from the snow just shows her loyalty to her troops. 3. even after being thrown out of her army in the middle of the mountains full of snow, seeing the huns rising from the snow, she knew she gotta alert li shang that they were coming. despite li shang not believing her (or tried to ignore her), she tried her best to come up with ways in attempt to save her country from potentially being invaded. at that moment, she didn't care about the fact that she literally lost her dignity in front of everyone, she only cared about her country, her homeland, and that just shows how selfless she is.

4. the last scene was probably the most badass out of the entire movie. again, plotting a scheme within minutes in attempt to save the emperor, coming up with ways to get into the palace, get into the emperor's room, and revealing her identity as ping to shan yu to save li shang again. best part was, the only weapon she had in her hand was a fan, it not only symbolized her identity as a female, but also the fact that she was a female in the army. (fucking pulling the sword out of the fan was so badass i need to insert the gif here)

everything about that scene was perfect. it wasn't entirely serious, some ridiculous humor was implemented there and there, but also allowed for one final demonstration of how strong mulan is, not physically, but mentally.

5. actually, this last one might be the most badass. she didn't bring honor to her family (and herself) by marrying a man, starting a family like what the society expected her to, she earned a standing ovation, a collective bow from the entire country of china and the emperor with her own hands. best part? she didn't care about the honor, she didn't care about the fact that she was offered a position in the council as a female, she only cared about her family, her father. love was what made her strong. gracefulness, bravery, loyalty, and intelligence are just a few of her qualities. not only was the character full of great qualities, her imperfections were also shown, her stubbornness and clumsiness. it felt as though she was a real human because of her merits and faults, and her character development throughout the movie never ceases to amaze me.

again, i don't want to go on forever about this, but one thing will never change - mulan will always be my favorite fictional character ever created.

my little baby is all grown up and ... and savin' china

[plethoraworldatlas]

In reading Marcia's review of her experience with Shadowdark, I contemplated on how I run my own OSE games. This is also fresh on my mind because I am running Miranda Elkins' fantastic Nightwick. Its all about distilling things down to the interesting choice and eliminating the non-interesting one.

Basic Equipment: I am thinking about charging my players a flat rate for all basic dungeoneering equipment that is rolled into weekly expenses-- so 7sp a week for expenses plus ~3-5sp for pick of equipment

Not interesting:  Cost of equipment, especially down to coppers

Interesting: Scarcity (what if there is no 50' rope this week?) and how many slots PC dedicates to basic equipment

Light: Due to torch cost and number per slot, it is easy to carry a lot of torches.

Not interesting: Carrying enough light to last 12-24 turns- easily done

Interesting: When torches extinguish-- like in the middle of a fight or when the goblins you are negotiating with get mad; how many hands in the party are occupied by torches

This is why I prefer to use the overloaded encounter die to simulate inopportune moments when a torch is snuffed out- gust of wind, dripping slime, bucket of sand thrown by a sneaky goblin. And with regards to hands, holding a torch potentially lowers AC, removes a weapon, or makes spell casting delayed (need both hands). One saving grace: torches are an improvised weapon that do 1d4 dmg and are on fire.

Stuck Doors: I now commonly interpret the 2-in-6 chance as a basic surprise roll. If they players fail it, they make a loud noise and alert anything on the other side of the door, but open it next round.

Not interesting: Rolling a d6 over and over again to see if PCs finally break down a door

Interesting: Seeing if PC get surprise on whatever is on the otherside; if additional equipment is brought to deal with doors

I usually like the idea that a crowbar allows and additional 1d6 rolled per individual with one.

Rations: This is similar to the situation with light, its easy to carry enough food/water for 2-4 hours which is more likely the time frame of a dungeon delve-- not a camping trip.

Not interesting: Tracking both food and water separately for nominal circumstances

Interesting: How many PCs carry rations; will rations be used for other things (like distracting monsters) or saved to avoid fatigue

For me the nature of rations are both food and water abstracted. So if a player want to use food as a distraction, mark off 1 rations. If a player wants to douse a small fire, use 2 rations as you frantically empty out a water skin and try to put out the fire consuming the spell book.

Secret Doors & Traps:  Two dungeon features that are opposite sides of the same coin. Really I think Chris McDowall has written some of the best bits on this that boil down to "traps are puzzles" and not really "gotcha".

Not interesting: Situations where the PCs have to pick the exact right spot and roll a 1-2 in 6

Interesting: Adding in environmental clues or other sources of information that allows discovery by players investigating the fictional environment

Now, I will keep both rolls as a back-up for either PCs not having a good idea and/or a back-up for perhaps me being unable to convey the fictional environment properly in the moment.

Weapons: I've yet to find a really good way to do weapons simply outside of 1d6 damage for all types. I don't mind BX's variable weapon damage. And I do like some old rulesets sorta "first strike" if your weapon is larger than an opponents other wise smaller, lighter weapons strike first in subsequent arounds.

So here is what I have got so far: Using a weapon two-handed is a +1 to damage, using an off-hand weapon is +1 to-hit, and a shield is of course +1 AC. I do like that fighters with bows can shoot twice if they did not move and the "cleave" ability.

Not interesting: Weapon factors that are so extensive they require a separate rules discussion, trigger player obsession, and/or orient the whole of gameplay to combat

Interesting: What PCs chose to do with their hands: more armor, more weapons, or more light

So that is it for now, if you'd like to see more of my house rules here is my post on the Serpent Song Hymnal. I hope to have a sorta player version created sometime soon but I'm still trying to dial-in what my go-to "french vanilla" D&D is like.

[wonderstarmedia]

Been thinking about potential Absolute Fab Five ideas all afternoon after reading Absolute Flash #1 and like it's probably not gonna be anything like I imagine but ig

TENTATIVE ABSOLUTE FAB FIVE IDEAS

Dick Grayson

Same basic beats of his origin except Bruce doesn't adopt him but he does inspire Dick to become a teen vigilante who moves from town to town, and city to city saving people. He doesn't really have all the same technical genius that Bruce does so his gear would be a lot more makeshift. Like basically "We are Robin" type vibes. Extra kudos if he's also darker skinned and being Romani has a bit more focus than it usually does in his stories. Also please let him be canonically bi for the love of god. I think he'd either be second or last to join the gang depending on what the timeline with absolute batman would be. I'd love for Wally to meet the other four asap but if we have to wait like 3 years then I still think he should meet Dick after Donna.

Roy

Honestly I feel like this'd be a good opportunity to make him actually Indigenous? Even if atp we have Ultimate Hawkeye so DC won't be able to ever escape the "copying" allegations imo since him being a recognised Navajo tribe member is such a non-existent aspect of his character rn I think this would be a good opportunity to pull from that history and make it actual meaningful representation. I'm Ugandan so idk what exactly that'd look like but as someone also directly affected by past and present day colonialism I think it'd add a whole new dimension to his anger and his complicated feelings about being in the care of this billionare white man (if Ollie is still rich in the ultimate universe.) And maybe having Ollie in his life could be another way to handle the topic of addiction from jump with more grace than Roy himself has been afforded in the past? Ollie could be in recovery and Roy could be trying his best to help him out of it even though Ollie's trying not to make him feel like it should be his responsibility?

Kaldur'ahm/Jackson Hyde

Garth is my sweet baby fish boy but Jackson is my prefered Aqualad so I'd love for him to be on whatever first Absolute Titans there'd be 😭 and I think a Jackson raised by Black Manta could add a very cool dynamic to the team. It's not a Titans story without the exploration of what family even is and how it defines you and the conflict of his upbringing and who he wants to be would be familiar territory without it being the same 2 or 3 characters we always tell this story with. I'd love if he was specifically called Kaldur'ahm since he'd be raised in Atlantis in this but also cause 1) it's a cool name and 2) him in YJ was like the only good thing to come out of that show and I'd like his absolute characterisation to be much closer to that Aqualad at first. Maybe he and Dick have a lil flirtationship that probably doesn't actually go anywhere because it'd be funny if all the openly queer members on the team don't date each other.

Donna Troy

Unsurprisingly the character I started thinking about in the first place because in Return of Donna Troy she's literally stated to be an anomaly in the multiverse so there's a very real possibility that she'll have the least changes made to her despite the fact the Amazons are currently imprisoned for eternity and that in of itself could be a whole fun timeline thing in of itself that gives us a greater understanding of the Absolute Universe. Which I'd love actually, but I do think like with Diana you could give her a few changes here and there and she'd still be the most Donna Troy to ever Donna Troy. The PJO fan in me thinks it'd be cool if she was either a Titan (child of/embodiment of/some sort of connection to Atlas would be my pick cause the through-line from his association to the sky and her association with stars is so fucking cool imo) who was raised by humans or a human who was raised by Titans (again preferably related to Atlas in some way). This'd put her in direct opposition to the gods just by existing which makes her Diana's ally (kind of because being affiliated with Titans would still come with so many issues of if she could be trustworthy) but still give her all the conflicting identity issues that are so integral to her character. Plus it could lead to a dope af "I'm a Titan" line drop with a double meaning whenever the whole gang is together that'd also maybe give them being called Titans some context beyond the name sounding cool lmao.

I'd love if she met Wally first cause ofc she's my fave and I think their friendship could be sweet but also cause she'd be a great bridge for a crossover between absolute WW and absolute flash that we wouldn't have to wait for 3 to 5 for years because Wonder Woman wouldn't have to be all that established for her to show up? Like she could literally show up in the coming chapters wherever Diana is rn (how cool would it be if she did omg).

And lastly Wally West

I trust that I'm gonna love everything about him in this book but to add: how cool would it be if they made him trans 😭😭😭😭😭 it's DC so it's not gonna happen but his vibes are so transgender I need that shit so bad if you're not gonna give Jess anything then at least let absolute Wally be trans 😭🙏🏾 also I know it's an actual pipe dream to wish for canonical BirdFlash but man it'd be great if they also had some sort of yaoi going on😭

[callmrmorrow]

ddba finale spoiler review

had no clue they’d take the revolutionary route for matt but i think it’s very fitting given america’s real-world situation and fisk’s actions in the show! solid set-up for season two. i’ve got high hopes for how they’ll handle the split cast; it’s kind of giving the boys s4 finale lol?

frank’s in a shitty spot but i don’t think it’ll last too long. i’m still not happy with how the writers handled foggy and karen, and i don’t think either of their stories should’ve gone that way even if it was to bring matt back to the mask. cannot BELIEVE fisk just red-rush’d gallo in front of his own subordinates AND decided to gun for matt after matt SAVED HIS LIFE — but i guess that’s kingpin for you…

still unhappy about the loss of foggy. genuinely such a detriment to the show. i appreciate that they handled his death with grace, giving matt a whopping half-season to grapple with whether or not he needs to take the mask back or respect foggy’s wishes for him.

also a disappointing lack of matt’s catholicism in this season! i’m not even religious, but it’s key to his character and i can’t believe it was lost especially when so much insane stuff happened to him in such a short period of time. no questioning his divine fate? is god punishing him? what for? where’s the catholic guilt for trying to kill dex? was he trying to make up for that by saving fisk, repenting for his sin? come on people!

fisk was a highlight. him and vanessa are doing great, and i think that’s so amazing. they’re just making each other worse and worse and worse. so good. we got kastle snippets as well which was okay, but felt like fanservice because she was gone the whole season :( i miss my girl!

i know the argument for her running to san francisco was she has a pattern of escaping grief by putting it entirely behind her, as she did with her brother, but things are different here and everyone knows that. i can only accept it if they had to take her out for work conflicts on the actress’s end, but idk if that’s the case…

overall, they did fine. a lot of the effort clearly went into the first episode with the staircase fight between dd and bullseye — that was awesome! in terms of action the finale felt underwhelming, mostly because the coolest fight happened in pitch black and was saturated with slow-mo shots that i didn’t need. i know there was pressure to match up with netflix’s level of gore and violence, and they got there, but without the finesse that the old show had and without half the character integrity. i understand change is necessary for the plot to advance but we got 2 scenes of a happy trio before everything went to shit.

i would’ve preferred it if they’d killed someone other than foggy or karen. they’re too crucial to the story to be lost in the first episode. and heather is KILLING me. i want to sympathize with her because i KNOW matt isn’t easy to have as a long-term partner (no hero is, really), and i’m hoping she’s either driven further into fisk’s camp or has a revelation that matt wasn’t lying about kingpin’s EVIL and tries to stop him, only for him to drop the vigilante bomb about her boyfriend (who, by the way, she doesn’t know fisk is TRYING TO KILL, which presents another situation in and of itself. where is MATT MURDOCK in all of this? from leaked photos of season 2, it looks like he’s in hiding as well. very interesting.)

overall, good show, but doesn’t match up to it’s predecessor in the ways that truly matter. hoping for things to change in s2, because the actors are great and the plot has so much potential! please give karen a bigger role in s2 and please let her undergo some development. also i’m expecting dex to roll up in all the right (WRONG) ways and i do need him to kill vanessa, as much as i love her machinations.

[lycastatic]

love your jinx story on ao3, you really get her character <3 would you consider writing something with the one bed trope? (i hope this is enough to count as a request) hope you’re well and best wishes^^

hi!!! thank u so much <333 apologies for this late upload TT college is taking up my time a lot ! note: this is a modern au ueueueue enjoy <333

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀⋆ — lycastatic

you call the shots, babe—i just wanna be yours - jinx x fem!reader

was it really hatred that kept the two of you away? or was it something else?

Jinx is…evidently annoyed.

It could be because she can’t find her house keys or maybe because of the fact you just blew up your paired project.

You stood beside her, drenched from the pouring rain after the two of you ran away from the explosion, not wanting to get detention this late in the school year. For a while, the only thing accompanying your occasional sighs is the jingle of her keys and the downpour against the roof. It wasn’t until the click of a door opening graced your senses.

“Oh, thank God.” You didn’t mean for it to escape your thoughts but the wind is getting unbearably cold and the last thing you want is to die from hypothermia. Your companion scoffed, “Yeah, whatever praise me later.” She remarked, pushing the door forcefully, her annoyance evident. She clicked on the lights, illuminating the unusually cozy apartment of hers. It’s uncharacteristically clean and cozy and so unlike Jinx.

The sound of her keys hitting a nearby table halted your sightseeing moment. You faked a cough, running a hand through your dampened hair, “Look, Jinx…I really am sorry—” Your words were cut off when a clean towel hit your face from none other than the blue-haired girl who only smirked at your face, “Save it for later, toots. Dry off.” She darted a glance at the door behind you, presumably the bathroom.

You nodded, awkwardly retreating to the bathroom, heaving a sigh of relief after closing it.

‘Oh my god…this is so awkward.’

Everything has been awkward since the beginning, anyway. You get paired up with somebody you dislike, you blow up your project, and now you embarrassingly follow her to her house. It couldn't get any more awkward than that, hopefully.

Despite the sound of the shower drowning everything out, you can hear some clatter outside. It could be anything. Or it could also be Jinx plotting to kill you or whatever. You did, in fact, ruin your two’s project. It seems justified.

If only your car’s tires weren’t punctured, you wouldn't stay the night here. But this is way better than walking in the rain and potentially missing a week of coursework.

Leaving the shower and being greeted by the harsh air-conditioned living room felt like a nightmare. Wearing nothing but a bathrobe during a thunderstorm doesn't sound like a good idea but what choice do you have anyway?

You walked your way to where the TV noises were coming from and saw Jinx sitting on the couch, unfazed by your presence. Or rather, not noticing your presence with how fixated she is on the cartoons playing on the screen.

You let out a cough, causing her to dart her eyes toward you. Her face is still a scowl and all you can do is smile awkwardly, “You know…this is usually the part where you ask me if I want to eat.” Jinx let out a scoff, “Oh, sure, princess. How about I do your laundry for you too? Dream on, doll. Kitchen's that way, help yourself.” She replied before once again returning her sight to the screen in front of her, deeming it more significant than your presence.

You walked in front of her, blocking her view of the show, “Hey! Move it, blockhead! It’s the best part now!” Your crossed your arms as she let out a huff and plopped on her couch, “What the hell do you want this time? I already told ya, I am not cooking.”

You rolled your eyes, “I am trying to apologize. And for the record, I was making a joke earlier.” You replied which she only snickered on, “You’re bad at jokes, almost as bad as our grades the moment this semester ends!”

You groaned, “That’s exactly why I’m apologizing! Maybe if you didn’t put a feature for the bot to blow up, everything would be fine now!” You countered, the image of the robot the two of you built exploding still vivid in your mind. In your defense, you thought the button would only cause the robot to do basic functions, not blow up and completely damage a wall.

She rolled her eyes before pulling you down to her level, “Listen up, doll. Maybe if you stopped pressing all the wrong buttons, you wouldn’t be in this mess right now.” She smirked, observing the way you stammered with whatever you’re gonna say with how close she was.

‘She’s so close…’

You removed your wrist from her grip, “I fucking hate you.”

Jinx only snickered, “Likewise.”

-

The night went on with silence other than the occasional crunch of the chips that Jinx had been eating and the noises from the glowing screen in front of the two of you.

Frankly, you want to sleep and you could only hope for Jinx to feel an ounce of drowsiness, too, not wanting to be presumptuous and open whatever door there is expecting a guest room on the other side of it. Otherwise, you’re gonna be sleeping uncomfortably the whole night on her couch.

You could ask her where the guest room is, sure. But after that banter? You’d rather not speak. After all, this is only a night of being this near her.

3 minutes...

5 minutes…

‘Oh my gods…I wanna sleep so bad…’

10 minutes have passed and between your occasional passing out, you heard Jinx stand up and turn off whatever she was watching. Still, drowsy, you scrambled to get up, silently following her to wherever she was going.

She abruptly stopped in front of an open bedroom, making you bump against her. You mumbled an ‘ow’ before looking at the girl who seemed to be confused as to why you were following her.

“What?” You asked, still rubbing your forehead from the impact. She tilted her head, “Why are you tailing me to my room, huh?” She asked. You laughed, “Good joke, Jinx. I know a guestroom when I see one.” You walked inside the bedroom, a hint of surprise at how messy it looked, “You surely don’t clean your guest bedroom, huh.”

Jinx scoffed, “That’s because this is my room, genius. So why don’t you get out and go back to that little couch of yours, hm?” She gave you a sickeningly sweet smile, annoyed at the sight of you in between the clutter of her room.

You gasped, almost too dramatically, “You want me to spend the rest of the night sleeping on the couch? Hell no!” You crossed your arms, persistent in standing your ground, “You can’t even offer your guest a bed? And here I thought you could get any worse!”

Jinx chuckled before walking towards you, “Well, I give my guests a bed sometimes, too…y’know. I’m not that cruel.” She replied, reveling in the way your brows furrowed, “Then give me a bed. I need a rest you psycho.”

“I only give them a bed if I spend a little alcohol with them and we end up on my bed, genius. And…” She eyed you, a smirk on her face, “You’re not my type.”

‘Oh.’

You immediately turned your back to her, retreating to wherever you dozed off earlier, “I’ll sleep on the couch. Enjoy your…uhm…bed or whatever.”

You can hear her laugh at the way you got flustered. You even heard her say a mocking ‘goodnight’ before her door closed. Good, now this is the part where you suffer.

You sighed, sitting on the couch. You had better sleep in campings than this. Not to mention how cold it is. Yep, this is it. This is where you probably die from hypothermia.

-

You don’t remember how long you’ve been asleep but you were awoken by somebody shaking you awake, “Hey, doll. Get up. Why do you sleep like a fucking cat?” You groaned, stretching as you sat up.

You saw Jinx standing in front of you, her hair unbraided. You almost didn’t even recognize her, “Get up. You’re getting the bed.” You chuckled, the drowsiness not leaving you, “I am not sleeping with you, idiot.”

The blue-haired girl groaned before pulling you up and pulling you to her room, “Well, neither do I, genius. I’m sleeping on the floor.”

You sat on her bed, staring at her as she prepared her pillows and blankets. In a way, you felt bad. You’re not entirely heartless either. You sighed, “Jinx, I get it. I was a bitch. You don’t need to do all that to make me feel guilty.”

Jinx rolled her eyes, “Wow, toots. Am I really that bad? Maybe I just want to help out your sorry ass. I’m not really in the mood for seeing someone freeze to death in my living room.”

“Thanks.” You replied, still feeling a tinge of guilt.

“Yeah, you better be.”

You fell silent for a while. The only sound was the rain and the occasional thunder that still surprised you. You can hear Jinx chuckle every time she notices you flinch. The latter was silent the whole time except for the occasional remarks of how you’re such a scaredy cat. She seemed to be focusing on brushing out the tangles that her braids left behind on her hair. When you actually see her like this, not when fighting someone, or causing some trouble…you can say she’s pretty.

“Like what you’re seeing?”

You averted her gaze, focusing on something else but her. You cleared your throat, “What? No.” You replied. It was a lie. And you’ve always been terrible at it.

She giggled, “Awh…come on, doll. It wouldn't hurt to admit.” You heard her move and in a second, she made you look at her. Instead of her usual harsh grips, this one’s gentler in comparison, “You are terrible at lying, you know that, right?”

She’s right. You can’t really deny it at this point. With Jinx in close proximity like this, you can smell that minty perfume she’s wearing. Her pink eyes seemed to taunt you every second. And those lips of hers that formed her signature smirk. You hate to admit it but yeah, she is pretty.

“Do you get a little kick when I admit you’re pretty?” You replied, taking her hand that continued to rest on your chin. She hummed, leaning closer, “You are insufferable, y’know that?”

‘Why is she so close…’

You fear that she could hear your heart beating with how loud it’s been booming in your ears, “You’ve called me that many times now, Jinx. Pick a better insult.” She only laughed, maintaining that short and absolutely tempting distance between the two of you, “Well, have I called you pretty before, genius?”

You scoffed, masking down the way she made you flustered with just that, “Taking a liking on me now?” She hummed, brushing the piece of your hair that fell, “And what if I do? You gonna do anything about that, doll?”

Wait…what?

You let out a nervous chuckle, confusion was evident in your eyes which she seemed to notice, “You’re pretty and snarky, and a bitch. It’s honestly not hard to notice you.” Oh god…this is definitely a dream, isn’t it?

But no. No matter how many times you inwardly screamed at yourself to wake up, you’re still here. Inches away from Jinx, her eyes burning holes through you. You wanted to say something, anything at all, “I…I think you’re pretty, too.”

‘What the actual fuck was that?’ You thought, mentally facepalming at how much of an embarrassment you are. Jinx giggled, “Oh really?”

You sighed. There’s really no going back to this, huh?

“Well…yeah. I only really ever hated you because of how much you piss me off when you steal my chance to answer in recitations.” It was an embarrassing reason to hate someone, you admit that. But it really did piss you off for quite a long time, “And bout the bitchy part I’m sorry…I really didn’t mean to come off like that.”

Jinx laughed, sitting beside you, “Okay, okay! Calm down genius.”

You sighed, “And also about the project, oh my god, I really am sorry I shouldn't have pressed any random buttons knowing you’re so much better than me at those things. Really, if I had a car I wouldn't burden you by staying in your house but I have no choice, and I—”

Her kiss was enough to shut you up.

You were surprised, of course you are. It’s not every day that you get kissed by Jinx, the person you absolutely used to hate, on her bed, on a rainy night.

It’s shocking but it’s not reason for you to return the kiss, too. Maybe, in a way, you’ve been vying to know what her lips felt like against yours.

It wasn’t long until your blue-haired companion broke the kiss, “Would you still kiss me if I told you I’m the one that slashed your tires?”

Her laughter is contrasted by your shock. But in a while, you just sighed. Yeah, it did make sense that she’s the one who did it. You just laughed before pulling her close, “Fuck yeah I would.”

-

The next morning, Jinx woke up alone. Typically, she’d immediately think that whoever was in her bed last night was rude enough to not even say goodbye. However, the smell of freshly cooked bacon reaching her room debunked that thought of hers.

She groaned, stretching out the remaining tiredness and drowsiness, “Fuck…what time is it.” Her hands reached out to the bedside table, expecting her phone but her hands caught on a paper instead.

‘Hey, idiot! I left early for class, and I made sure to make you breakfast. See ya later <3’

again, so sorry for uploading this so late!!! pre-college responsibilities are piling up <//3 rest assured, I'll still upload whenever i can! just drop me some requests <3

this fic is also posted in my ao3 account !

song: i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys

🎀🍓⋆⭒˚｡⋆

more about me -> here

me core | masterlist | i have a liking toward cupcakes <3

🎀🍓⋆⭒˚｡⋆

[jjslvt]

BEAUTIFUL REAPER ── .✦ PART ONE, ANGST, DRABBLE .ᐟ.ᐟ

⤷ rafe cameron x reader (first person pov)

masterlist // part two // notes: there will be a part two which is just going to be smut. this is a rewritten fanfic of mine from another fandom i was in last year. this was my old writing style.

and i wanna give a thank you to @bbyg4rl for helping me out a bit! 💗 as i couldn’t make up my mind lol.

Winsome and diaphanous were the way Rafe Cameron’s words came at me; he had a way of making me believe all the charming things he would say in private. He wasn’t always the most gracious at it — sometimes his emotions would be wildfire, sometimes words failed him but he could surprise me. In the best of ways.

Was it his rare, sincere smile that would bask in the warmth of a thousand suns? Was it the greasy bangs that suited his facial structures? Was it the way his light ocean-colored eyes would glimmer as soon as the light had shone on them? Was it the low tone of his voice when he whispered sweet nothings, sending shivers down my spine? Or maybe it was the way he would treat me like his treasure in private that made him seem so innocent at first.

That smile of his wasn’t a smile but a dangerous smirk that I was too blind to see, carrying a smugness. Calculated, because he knew what he was doing to me.

I don’t have to explain how devastatingly handsome Rafe Cameron is. Not only did he have an interesting personality that captivated me in every way; even with the internal sadness and darkness that shackled his tortured soul… demons he couldn’t fight but he also looked like everything I ever wanted. A nightmare masking as a daydream.

What was he, sculpted by the Greek Gods somehow?

Yet he was the most flawed being I ever had the agonizing pleasure of knowing. An ugliness that I was still drawn to. I felt as though I was put under a trance just to endure his delightful pain — and yes, it was delightful.

One day, I swear my heart would feel death from him. Maybe not in a literal sense but definitely in the way that my soul would get turned into ashes by him.

Rafe Cameron, the personification of the disturbed agony. In a hauntingly, beautiful way.

An angel is what he could have been but too bad, he was the devil. Alas, I was the mere fool caught in his trap.

Rafe had potential; it wasn’t that he didn’t have a heart. That heart was there but it had been too deeply buried in the confines of his smeared soul. Too much self-destruction had plagued him and as much as I wished to be his saving grace, I couldn’t be. No matter how hard I tried, he was lost.

And all I could do was let him drag me through this exquisite hell that would eventually destroy me.

Perhaps I was twisted too… because I couldn’t stay away.

I was in love.

This game we play… he plays, has to come to an end, eventually. I know that. This sweet torment he puts me through. The secret actions and words that made him seem as if he’s trying to romance me with the intention of what I silently weep for. As if he cares about keeping the heart he has captured.

For a moment, he gazes at me with something unreadable, making my heart feel like its swelling. Mornings like these, where I’m laying in his bed after spending the night. I was one of the lucky ones… he let me come back at least. Hope gnawed at me quietly… ‘Why is he looking at me like that?’ but hope was a cruel bitch. Promising falsity in fools like me; I wouldn’t fall for it, I would shake it off and he would look away.

He doesn’t love me. He never will.

No amount of prayers can cure my addiction; as he was the drug that I kept taking. The sweetened poison I kept letting sink into me.

I wasn’t a devil but I was ugly inside too, for I selfishly craved him back. But my love for him was real, unyielding.

Scorching my soul in its wake, fast to undo me because loving him was agony.

The unspoken words… the words of love, the deepest of my desires, the raw ones that weren’t so innocent — suffocating me each day but very slowly. Making sure I experience the most pitiful of deaths. But he knew because of those smirks and gazes he gave… he knew, deep down. Still, I tried to masquerade as a fool ignorant of my intense feelings. Parading around like he didn’t have me wrapped around his finger, that it wasn’t painfully obvious.

Does he know I’m dying? How many times has he looked at me and not realized, it’s killing me, or maybe he did — I wasn’t a mind reader.

Maybe he was the beautiful reaper, his actions were the scythe.

Why can’t I understand him?

And why did he look at me now… with mysterious eyes for that moment? Blue eyes full of something.

I’m in hell but I can’t hate it.

It’s oddly exquisite.

[hephaestiions]

'24 retrospective

thank you, @kamaela & @hollyhawthorn for the tag on ruminations from 2024, we're going to pretend i'm not a whole week late to it.

sometime in— march?— i got high and thought— wouldn't it be fantastic if draco and harry did that too? started writing what became almost 7k words of porn with feelings about harry being taken care of, which marked a return to ao3 and my first fic since 2021. win! i posted some shorter, quicker stuff to tumblr, of which i particularly enjoyed writing this auror partners transfer request, about harry, lettuce & embroidery yarn, and grace.

it's been a year of figuring out style & character, what works, what doesn't, what holds weight & water, slips, comes back. which is mostly to say it's been a year of drafts, writing & scrapping, letting things marinate in docs, coming up with several thousand wips & resisting the urge to take down older fics and repost them in a style i agree with more now.

2024 was also the year of getting into reccing, which i've enjoyed far, far more than i expected. my three author reclists for plor, wolf & tacky were my favourite to do, i loved the immersive invite of them. given my need to devour back catalogues of every author i adore, i'm hoping to continue these; we are well and truly blessed with enough writers here to keep me going for a lifetime.

writing (mostly) individual recs for hprecfest was also absolutely glorious. i have so much to say about works that stick with me, and saying it all to get others to go delight in them was brilliantly fulfilling. the process made me write my own love letters to reccing & reccers & the light they are in fandom, which may be my own most cherished post. i don't always have the bandwidth to write or read new stuff, but showing love like this keeps me involved, immersed, and importantly, very happy.

i've read a lot this year & listing everything will unfortunately have us cataloguing the colours of the sky. instead, i'm going to make a list of what i consider my priority tbr of fics & authors, people & works i wanted to get around to this year, couldn't, want to gorge myself on soon.

@garagepaperback wrote 300k words in 9 works this year, and i need to read every one as soon as possible. their style demands savouring & i've saved up so much garagefic for when i have the time to do them justice. @eleadore writes such a deliciously abrasive, petulant drarry dynamic; i'm really, really looking forward to being in A Mood to cut my teeth on their diamonds. (additional shoutout to the remaining reads these two's pile with @yiiiiiiiikes25, reserved for when i need a good smut fix). i read @kamaela's got me started earlier in the year, fell in love with their sharp characters & sharper writing & now everything else they've written, but especially mirror, me is up, up there in needing to be read asap. everything i've read by @sleepstxtic has been fantastic, fantastic, but rush was especially spectacular & i am foaming at the mouth to get to the other two sports fics in the series.

@dodgerkedavra's clear, warm light looks absolutely epic, can't wait to sink my teeth into it (and everything else from dodger's catalogue i haven't read yet). @epitomereally's LA, who am i to love you? has some fantastic tags, a fascinating summary & been on my mfl for an age. this is also maybe-perhaps-potentially the year to work through @mintawasalreadytaken's tit for tat which sits at almost 400k & promises my favourite things (angst & porn), but even if not, it is the year to read the rest of minta's catalogue that i haven't gotten to yet.

& finally, i'm bad at wips, but i'm so very, very excited for @tackytigerfic's first watch of night to finish posting so i can swim around in it.

this is a v small sampling of everything i hope to read this year, i've left out so many wonderful, wonderful authors whom i will end up loving. the goal is to read slower, read steadier, take my time with craft & phrasing, work through catalogues i admire & leave myself space to appreciate with care & specificity.

in the other life of odds and ends and grad school and employment, it was a weird year, kind of a— nothing year? scales weren't tipped too far in either direction, which is different, which demands recalibration, which has left me time & energy in measures i usually don't have. dawn has broken over this fresh swivel around the sun and i'm allowing myself some slivers of tentative, brittle hope. it's new, and i'm putting stock in that being a good thing.

paging everyone i've mentioned above to tell me what you're hoping to do more of in 2025 (fandom/otherwise) if you'd like! cheerleading all of you from here <3

[treviso-nights]

Blood and Allegiance—Rook de Riva, Teia/Viago

summary: before she was rook, Keket was a fledgling taken from a declining, abusive House. now, in treviso, she meets her new benefactor (viago de riva) and his surprising, beautiful counterpart (teia cantori). what will she think of her potential benefactor? what will they think of her? rating: M word count: 2500 (inspired by the first prompt from this post!!)

read on AO3

Keket had heard many things about Treviso, had flipped through the images of its canals and architecture marvels in textbooks. In private, Keket had even pressed her fingertips to the glossy pages and imagined she was there instead of where she was, instead of doing what she was. In fact, anywhere would have been better than training in her House. Yet in those secret daydreams, in those most private thoughts, Keket was always in Treviso, cartwheeling down boardwalks flanked by sparkling water—or perhaps ziplining over a twinkling marketplace.

Now, as she was escorted through its front gates, Keket knew she had been right to hold onto those daydreams.

Treviso was the most beautiful place she had ever seen.

Her escort didn’t speak to her as they meandered through Treviso’s walkways, moving with the elegance and grace of a trained assassin. Someday, she would be as languid as that. Though as a teenager just past her thirteenth year, Keket was mostly just uncertainty, with limbs too stiff to do anything useful with. It wasn’t as if the anxiety hadn’t already been beaten out of her—it had.

But Keket also couldn’t help wondering what kind of beatings her new benefactor favored—because they all favored one or another. There was no love lost for her old House; that was for sure. However, the nondescript warehouse they came upon didn’t do much to appease newfound concerns, no matter how often she’d been punished for them in the past. After all, Antivan Crows were nothing if not relentless. At least, that was what she told herself.

“This is where I leave you.”

Years of training kept Keket from jumping at the sound of his voice. “Thank you,” she responded, smiling grimly up at her escort. Because even then, she knew to be polite. Even then, in this new city, with this new benefactor, Keket knew to be pleasant. How else was she supposed to form alliances?

To her surprise, her escort smiled warmly back at her—even winking before he began to walk away. That was harder to digest. Crows weren’t supposed to smile at anyone that wasn’t a contract. Keket nearly frowned at the absurdity of it. No doubt that whoever trained him would be ashamed if they’d seen.

The front door to the warehouse was also nondescript—though pretty and well-stained wood, if anything. The inside was dark and empty, save for a few skylights, which provided enough sunshine for Keket to easily make her way to the room’s center, where a person in shadow awaited.

Her new grandmaster.

There wasn’t much Keket wanted—they didn’t need to be kind or accepting or even remotely interested in their fledglings. But if this new House could just be better than the last… if they could just be even one iota less cruel, that would be enough for her.

“Welcome! You must be our new fledgling.”

If Keket’s escort had surprised her, this was nothing less than shock, radiating down into her very bones. As she approached the figure, she could have sworn the day-light filtering in from above rearranged itself just for her—for the small woman standing in front of Keket. Which it should.

Because standing in front of Keket was an earth-shatteringly beautiful woman.

“I’m Andarateia Cantori,” the woman said, flashing white teeth in her smile. “Though you can call me Teia. Just don’t tell anyone else I told you so.”

Sheer instinct kept Keket on her feet, had her nodding slowly back to Teia. Though it was several moments before she could find her voice again. “Are you my new grandmaster?”

This only made Teia smile’s widen, until she was full-blown grinning at Keket. If the gesture itself wasn’t so warm and full of kindness, she would have retreated to a more defensible position in the room.

“Well…” Teia began. “Not really. Although, if you wish, I could make arran—“

The warehouse door slamming back open was the last straw, and Keket threw herself to the side, safety rolling near one of the room’s main walls, which she promptly pressed her back against.

“Oh, dammit!” Teia shouted, all traces of her previous warmth evaporated. “You scared our little fledgling half to death!”

A new, distinctly male voice sounded off then. “Teia!” the intruder barked, his long legs carrying him to where Keket had just been standing. “What do you think you are doing? Is it your life’s mission to be a complete pain in my ass? Or did I do something to specifically warrant this intrusion? I can never tell.”

“Keket?” Teia called, ignoring the intruder’s protests. “May I introduce to you your new grandmaster—Fifth Talon, Viago de Riva.”

At this, Keket’s eyebrows shot up. Fifth Talon? The Fifth Talon wanted her in his House?

“Come over here,” Teia encouraged, beckoning Keket with another warm smile. Still, she ignored Viago’s ever-reddening face, the deep blush darkening his handsome bronze skin until it almost looked purple.

The wall felt safer. But Teia was too enticing, too beautiful and friendly to disobey—as if they had already formed a comraderie or an understanding that could not be betrayed by Keket’s own suspicion. Even if that suspicion was a necessary part of their trade.

Unwilling footsteps shuffled Keket closer to where the duo stood, only twelve inches apart or so. The sky-light illuminated both of their features, which were very Antivan in nature—tawny brown skin and dark, curly hair so tightly coiled the curls were more like ringlets. And while Teia’s eyes were as deep and brown as her hair, Viago’s were a strange, muted emerald, as if that emerald had first been buried in fresh soil.

Only when Keket came to a stop next to him did Viago turn towards her, his piercing gaze pinning the teenager’s feet to the spot.

“Viago, Keket. Keket, Viago,” Teia chuckled.

Keket remained silent, as was expected of all fledglings before their grandmaster. So did she avert her gaze, keeping it trained on the ground. She needed to show him the utmost deference and respect, just as her last grandmaster had taught her.

“Look at me,” Viago commanded.

Keket’s blood ran cold. That didn’t seem right. What had she done wrong?

“Now.”

She obeyed him at once, her eyes wide and wiped blank of any obvious sentiment—the best she could do, given her terror.

“Don’t frighten her more,” Teia hissed, and Keket’s eyes involuntarily flicked to the scowling woman beside them. “Or I’ll make you regret it.”

Keket’s next inhale stuttered in her chest. Surely she would face punishment for speaking to the Fifth Talon this way?

But Viago only rolled his emerald eyes, his mustache quirking with a grimace. “How old are you?” he asked her.

Keket knew to answer quickly. “Thirteen.”

“How long have you been a fledgling?”

“Since I was eight.”

“Eight?” Both Viago and Teia shared a look.

Keket fought the urge to squirm. “Is that… unusual?” Typically, Keket would never deign to speak while not spoken to, but something about their reactions felt strange.

Teia was the one to answer. “It depends. But your former grandmaster had a certain reputation for eccentric recruiting practices.”

At that, Keket was silent. What did that mean?

Viago scoffed. “What she means is that your former grandmaster was a despicable speck of scum that had no qualms about recruiting hordes of small children so long as some of them survived long enough to cause trouble for the other Houses.”

Keket nodded absently.

“Agreed. Let us hope their new grandmaster has more sense,” Teia added, glancing at Viago again. “Lest the rest of us be forced to take action.”

With no clear understanding of what she meant, Keket once more averted her gaze.

“Keket, let me properly introduce you to Andarateia Cantori, Seventh Talon of the Antivan Crows, since I am sure she made no effort to disclose her official title.”

Against all instinct, an audible gasp ripped through Keket’s throat.

“Now you’ve done it,” Teia angrily muttered.

The Fifth and Seventh Talon. Keket knew this meeting could potentially be dangerous, though she would never have been able to ascertain the level of that danger—would never have thought that two Talons would ever be standing in front of her, squabbling like old lovers as if they couldn’t end her existence with a single twist of their hands.

There were no words for the influx of awe, horror, and hope rushing through her belly. So, Keket defaulted to the proper supplication these Talons deserved; a still body, and a quiet mouth.

This, however, did not seem to please Viago de Riva.

He cursed in Antivan. “What? Did your grandmaster beat the spirit out of you?”

Keket’s reply was instantaneous and without any emotion. “Yes.”

Then Teia cursed. Keket turned to her. “Grandmaster said that a good Crow must be emptied before it can be filled with anything useful, so we practiced being empty a lot.”

The warehouse’s subsequent silence only served to further strain Keket’s nervous system. That wall was looking highly safe right now…

“A good Crow uses everything at their disposal to complete their contracts,” Viago replied. “Especially their natural predispositions.” A pause. “Look at Teia,” he continued, gesturing to Teia with his hand. “What weapons do you think she is most likely inclined to use?”

“Here it comes,” Teia grumbled.

Keket was sure she was being set up to fail this question, but she also suspected Viago did not tolerate anything but the truth. Slowly, Keket appraised Teia once more, absorbing her small, lithe body, which would certainly attune her to agile movement; her full lips; the way her soft, long hair framed her jaw…

An uncomfortable blush began peppering Keket’s neck and ears when she realized she was staring. “Well,” she started. “She is… very beautiful.”

This prompted Teia to grin at her, which only served to aggravate the blush.

But Viago only frowned. “Exactly. So you can imagine how many powerful, wealthy men survive encounters with her when she is fulfilling a contract.”

“Probably not very many,” Keket said.

Teia laughed. “Exactly. Seduction is one of many tools in a Crow’s arsenal. These powerful, self-important men see my face and my ears and think I am harmless. Usually, it is the last thought they ever have.”

Keket’s eyes widened in something akin to wonder. 

“Now, what do you think of Viago? What skillset do you think he is most predisposed to?”

She felt her jaw lock when Viago’s intense gaze returned to her. This was most certainly a trap. Right? 

Still, the answer came at once—a muted whisper that bubbled inside her mind. Such whispers came infrequently, though when they did, they most often struck true.

“Poison.”

Both Teia and Viago’s brows shot up, their visages conveying an honest surprise at the answer.

“And why would you say that?” Teia asked.

Keket swallowed, attempting to ignore Viago’s stare seeping into her face. “He holds himself apart from others—at least one foot away. At first, I thought it was because of a… distaste for you,” she said, unwillingly glancing back at Teia, “but your obvious familiarity with each other ruled that out. I would guess that you just don't like to be touched.”

She got the distinct impression this made the Talons uncomfortable, judging by their stony expressions.

“Secondly… you smell like Belladern,” Keket murmured.

Viago de Riva cocked his head at that, his stare turning intense. “Are you sure you are not scenting my cologne?”

“I’m sure. Belladern is created by mixing belladonna with wyvern venom, and it has a signature aroma when heated at the right degree. It’s sweet.”

Viago nodded, his head moving slowly while he stuck his tongue against one cheek.

But Keket continued to answer, her voice steadily becoming more confident as she did. “I also think you sampled some before coming here. You probably ingest small amounts of several poisons to build immunity to them, since most who prefer poison are often paranoid about unknowingly consuming poison themselves.”

“What’s your evidence?” Viago asked, deliberating.

“Belladern side effects include rapid heartbeat, and I can see yours pounding against the arteries of your neck.” Keket lifted one hand, pointing at Viago’s carotid, where his pulse point throbbed at a steady and swift rate.

“And I don’t think it’s because you’re nervous,” she supplemented. “Also, your left fingers keep twitching. Since Belladern also causes convulsions, that would make sense as well.”

Teia muttered something softly, the Antivan momentarily breaking through Keket’s examination.

“Anything else?” Viago inquired.

Keket nodded at Viago’s other hand. “The tips of those fingers are red and raw, as if they’ve been burned. Since I assume you wear gloves while you work, yours are either old and worn through, or you need a second pair to cover the first. I would recommend drakeskin, as it deteriorates slowly,” she finished, voice once again quiet.

Viago de Riva folded his arms across his chest, the harsh angles of his brow and jaw smoothed out. “Was it your grandmaster that taught your class alchemy?”

“No. He used it on us. I remembered the smell.”

After an agonizingly silent pause, Teia cursed again—a fiery, filthy string of curses Keket struggled to not blush at.

Meanwhile, Viago looked vicious once more, fury etching deep into the handsome planes of his face. “Agreed, Teia.”

Keket resisted the urge to return to the warehouse’s wall. Had she said too much? Was she arrogant in her responses? Did she insult his honor?

“Right, then,” Teia chirped, a strained smile pulling at her mouth.

“Viago, if you do not want another fledgling, I would be more than happy to declare her part of House Cantori.”

That… couldn’t be right. Right? 

But Viago only glowered, each emerald eye narrowing in warning.

“Absolutely not. I will not have you poaching every wounded fledgling who crosses your path.” Then he turned to Keket, the curls in his hair bouncing slightly with the movement.

“You should know: I will not coddle you the way some may think you deserve. Becoming a fledgling in my House will mean even more discipline and more… correction, if you will.”

Keket nodded. She did not expect anything different.

“But,” Viago said, his jaw unclenching. “Only when you deserve it. Or when lessons demand that of you. Nothing more.”

Unwilling, traitorous tears began to gather in the back of her eyes.

“Stop that,” Viago snapped, all too observant.

Keket froze. “Yes, sir.” She briefly turned her gaze to the ceiling, hoping that the tears would suck themselves back into their ducts.

“I guess it is settled then,” Teia said, clapping her hands together. It did not escape Keket that she seemed to be pouting, her lower lip jutting out a touch more than the top. “What a shame. I do enjoy my strays.” 

And for the first time in many months, Keket found herself smiling.

Treviso, the city of dreams, indeed.