#to be fair I only have three options with art

[phoenix-inblue]

I love being able to tell which fanfic of mine you read based off of which posts you spam liked XD

[fingertipsmp3]

Whyyyy have I JUST found out that you can disable delivery options on Vinted. I’ve been running all over town like a douche because I thought everyone had all the options enabled and you couldn’t change it, and you’re just now telling me I could’ve chosen to only go to the post office or the inpost locker all along 😭

[bluessmutifyplaylist]

(Horny Round 2!!!)

Reader is a burlesque dancer, cuz they got mouths to feed, and Old Man Lilia gives them a proposition: put on a show for him and his boys so they can learn how to best please their future lovers. Voyeurism, corruption kink, Daddy Lilia~

Characters are aged up!! I based it off of this YouTube video as well as a few pole-dancing videos.

Warnings: Reader is not Yuu, AFAB but with GN pronouns, corruption kink, voyeurism, pole dancing, strip teasing, lap dance, dry humping, foursome, penetrative (p in v) sex, corruption of the future king and his knights, jerking Sebek and Silver off, overstimulation, creampie(s), blowjob(s)

Diasomnia

There was a dancing troupe coming to the Briar Valley, and they came around annually in the summer because it gave the citizens something to look forward to. Well, it wasn’t just the dancing troupe. It was an entire fair, but the dancing was the main show. During the day, the dances were all child-friendly, and the children were even allowed to hop up on the stage sometimes to join the dancers.

However, after the clock struck 8:30 PM, the doors were closed for children, and the dancers went into their dressing rooms and brought out the more… provocative… outfits. This was a time for an adult audience, and maybe a few teenagers in the older margin who managed to sneak in somehow.

You were with your girls in the back, making sure that your red lipstick was applied pristinely. You had large feathered fans, and a rather revealing outfit that was covered up a bit with a tutu. Your fellow dancers were all hyping each other up, and you saw one of them slap another on the ass as she went on stage, saying go get ‘em, tiger! It made you laugh… until the matron of the troupe called your name.

Getting up from your seat, you walked over, fans in hand, nervous that you were going to get fired. This entire fair was your livelihood. If you were to be let go, not only would you suffer, but so would the family members you’ve been sending money to. Your heart was racing as you walked up to the matron, heels clacking against the floor.

“Y/N, someone has requested our best dancer for a large sum of money. I know the financial situation you are in and you are the first that came to mind. Plus, you are one of our finest dancers, so I am giving you the option, should you accept, to give our esteemed guests a private show.”

“Madame, I don’t mean to sound selfish or money-obsessed, but how-”

“They are offering 1 million thaumarks, and I have the check in this envelope right here,” She held up an envelope, emphasizing that this was real and not a joke. Then, she brought her arm back down, and extended it to you. “You don’t need to have sex with them, but the… leader?... of the group wanted for them to have an experience with something so informal as the fair.”

“Umm…” This was probably the biggest decision of your life. 1 million thaumarks?! There was no way that you were going to pass that up. So, you nodded your head, “Yes, I will do it.”

“Good! This is yours, then! They will be in Room 1 in about 45 minutes. Your routine should be fine, as the man said he wanted it to be ‘culturally enlightening’.” She then walked off, and you were left staring at the envelope now in your hands.

“Holy fu-”

~~~~~~~~

In the aforementioned room, 4 men were sitting, discussing the plan for the evening. Three of them had no idea what was going to happen, while the ‘leader’ was explaining everything.

“Alright, boys. As you know, this is not a children’s show. However, I wanted you to learn something about the art of burlesque dancing. It’s quite sensual, but it gives power to the performer because they have the audience in their hands just with the way they move.”

“LILIA-SAMA, I AM GRATEFUL THAT YOU HAVE GIVEN US THIS EDUCATIONAL OPPORTUNITY, BUT I FAIL TO SEE WHY THIS WOULD BE IMPORTANT!” Sebek was immediately shushed, being told that he needed to keep the volume of his voice down.

“Well, it will teach-” Lilia was cut off by the room going dark. The thing about these rooms was that they were really smaller-scale tents behind the large one. In addition to that, the small tents had platforms in the middle of them for the dancer, along with a pole.

Spotlights came on, highlighting you and your large fans. You were wearing a bustier, corset, panties, and a tutu, and you were wearing bright red lipstick as well as elbow-length gloves. Your heels sparkled in the light. You bent down, one leg in front of the other, using one fan to cover your rear end and the other to point at your outstanding foot.

“Hello, boys~” Your voice said. Then, the music started up, and you started to dance. Sharply moving your hips up and down, making sure that your toes were always pointed so that your legs looked longer. You could feel their hungry gazes on you, and you smiled as you reached your hands behind you, going to untie the tutu.

Shimmying it down your waist, you could tell who the leader was. You know he had been at previous adult shows, as his pink hair was hard to miss. However, based on the reactions of the one with light green hair and the one with silver hair, you guessed that this was the first adult show they had been to. You were happy to be their first. As for the one with the horns, you could see that he was genuinely interested in the art as well as you.

Once it was off, you threw it like a frisbee to the man with green hair. You smiled and winked at him as his face was glowing an even brighter red. Truly, his face would put your red lipstick to shame.

You then turned to the silver-haired one and ushered him over to the stage. You turned around, making sure to bend over as much as you could, and then you asked if he could untie your corset. He nodded his head and went to untie it, struggling a little because his hands were shaking. You heard the ‘leader’ shout something.

“Let him take it off of you!”

Smiling, you looked at the man and he was also frozen in place. Did you really have that effect on men?

Whispering, you asked, “Would you like to help me take it off?” You giggled as he nodded, pulling at the strings pair by pair, and you worked on unclasping the front of it. Once it was off, you threw it to the horned man while placing a rather passionate kiss on the silver-haired man’s lips. Breaking apart, you saw that you left red lipstick on his lips, but you gently pushed him back in his seat.

Standing back up, you headed to the pole. You weren’t as advanced in pole dancing as some of your fellow dancers, but you did know how to do the basics. You grabbed the pole, pulling your body to it, slowly sliding down, placing your fans down on the ground. Once you were squatting down, you started grinding against the pole. You stood back up slowly, locking eyes with the leader, and then you sauntered over to him after picking up one of your fans.

Straddling him, you threw your arms around his neck and he placed his hands upon your hips gently, making sure you aren’t feeling pressured to do anything you don’t want to. You placed a kiss on his lips this time, making sure to rub your clothed regions against his growing boner. For him being a rather small man, you could tell that he definitely had a disproportionate size, but it just further served to arouse you.

This small group of men was different from others you have danced for. They appreciated your art, and they weren’t groping you in a way that made you uncomfortable. They allowed you to go to them first, and you loved it. You stood up, repositioning yourself in a reverse cowgirl position, and leaned back into him. He placed kisses upon the crook of your neck, and you used your fan to cover up the way you were grinding back down on him.

You can’t remember a time where you felt genuine pleasure from one of these dances, but you felt yourself growing wet as you continued your actions. You felt one of his hands slowly reach up to cup your bra-clad breast and one reach down to your panties, giving you a chance to stop him, but you didn’t. You instead tossed away your fan so that the other guys could see what was going on.

“Call me ‘Lilia’, love~” He whispered into your ear before using his fangs to bite into your neck. There was a bit of pain, but pleasure soon followed, and it wasn’t enough to draw blood anyway. Otherwise, you might have guessed he was a vampire.

“Call me ‘Y/N’,” You whispered back, letting out a gasp when he started rubbing your clit. His other hand went under your bra and he started fondling your breast, rolling your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. You looked back at the other men and you were surprised to see them drawing closer.

“Alright, Y/N. I wanted you here because I want to teach these boys how to pleasure somebody. However, I need verbal consent,” He said louder, stopping what he was doing so that you could answer.

“You have my consent, Lilia,” Upon saying that, he immediately shoved a finger into your awaiting pussy, making you moan at the sudden intrusion. You could feel his finger curling and moving inside of you, and you simply wanted more. 

As your hips rolled to try and get more friction, you ended up rubbing more and more against his erection, making him groan. 

“So wet for me~” He snickered, looking at your little audience, “Boys, you never want to just go right ahead and stick your dick inside someone without a little bit of preparation and foreplay. After all, you want them to be aroused and participating.

That’s another thing: basic consent and participation. Depending on what you are into, all parties involved must be participating and making sure it is a pleasurable experience for those involved.

Please stand up, love.” 

You followed his orders, saddened that he took his hands out of your bra and panties. Then, you heard his belt unbuckle and his pants slide down, and you felt your underwear slide down your legs. The cold air hits your exposed regions like a block of ice, making you shudder. It didn’t go unnoticed by anybody in the tent.

“Now you may sit back down,” Lining up your entrance with the tip of his cock, he put his hands on your hips to guide you. Feeling him fill you up finally could have made you cum alone, but his size made your eyes roll back in pleasure. You tried covering your mouth to block any moans from coming out, but his hand blocked yours. “Let those pretty noises out, dearie. These boys need to learn what pleasure sounds like.”

Nodding, you put your hand back down as he started to guide you up and down on his cock. 

Oh, oh, ohhh’s enunciated each drop down, with an occasional fuckkkk. You didn’t even notice the silver and green-haired knights get close and right next to you, unbuckling their pants as well. 

“Y/N, you wouldn’t mind giving these guys a bit of the pleasure you’re feeling, would you?” You looked to see them with their dicks out, and you quickly reached out your arms and hands to start jerking them off. The horned man continued watching you all, a smirk on his face.

Up, down, up, down, up, down. Your hips went up and down on Lilia’s member, your hands went up and down on the knights’ cocks, the horned man’s eyes went up and down following you. Every single time Lilia hit that special spot inside of you, you squeezed on the dicks in your hands, making the two men groan.

The man with bright green hair had already came, and now he was just a tad sensitive. You guessed he was at least part fae based on his fangs, so his durability had to be amazing. If you were being honest, you were not far behind, and you found your climax washing over you as you slumped, but your eyes snapped open when Lilia kept thrusting up into you.

“You didn’t think I was done… did you? Neither are any of these fine gentlemen. Tell me, Y/N, where do you want me to cum?” 

“I-Inside… Please, please, please inside!” You cried, and you had felt another orgasm wash over you as he came inside of you. You were panting, feeling the warmth of his cum painting your walls white.

“I would be willing to have a turn with them, Lilia,” The horned man said, and his height intimidated you. The dick imprint that you could see against his pants intimidated you as well. However, you found yourself somehow getting aroused again, and, stumbling, you walked over to him.

With a snap of his fingers, you saw that his pants were off and folded neatly on the side. His size was unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. To be fair, it’s not like you slept around, but you have had a few flings here and there in the different places you performed. No beastmen could come close to comparing.

“I’m aware I’m… better endowed than most. If you wish, I could prepare you more-”

“That isn’t going to be necessary, sir. I think I’m ready.” You really need to think about what you say before you say it, but you just couldn’t wait to have that absolute monster inside of you. You decided that you would straddle him, cowgirl-style, so that you could work at your own pace.

However, he had other plans.

Placing his hands on your hips, he shoved you all the way down, and tears leaked from your eyes. You groaned in both pain and pleasure, burying your head in his shoulder, adjusting to his size.

“Tell me when you want to start moving.” It took a few moments, but you eventually nodded and he began moving you up and down again. Luckily, he had strength to do it for you entirely, as your legs gave up.

“Do you think you could bend backwards enough to suck this young man off?” Lilia asked. Being a dancer granted you a level of flexibility that actually allowed you to do this. You leaned back as far as you could, just to be met with the silver-haired man’s cock. 

Oh, yeah… he hasn’t cum yet, you realized. Opening your mouth, he slid the tip in. It was quite unusual to be giving a blowjob in this position, but you were always down to be a bit more adventurous in such activities. His size was the smallest in this group of men, but it still wasn’t anything to laugh at.

“Oh, fuck…” The man muttered under his breath. What you couldn’t see was that as he was thrusting into your throat slowly, there was a bit of a bulge. Your mouth was so warm. You moaned around his dick, adding even more stimulation. On your left, Lilia and the green-haired man were each stroking themselves, watching you get absolutely railed by these two men.

Earlier that day, your matron said you didn’t have to have sex with them. Lilia even told you that you could tell them to stop. However, they were both wrong. You did have to have sex with them, and you couldn’t tell them to stop. If you turned this down, you might have to have yourself committed to a mental asylum because no one in their right mind would turn down an opportunity like this.

[revehae]

party monster

pairing ↠ best friend!jennie x (f) reader (but not really)

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, thoughts of noncon, sub!jennie, oral, noncon recording, monsterfucking

summary ↠ for years you’ve crushed on jennie kim, your best friend, the queen of queens, the party monster. but it seems that you’re not exactly her type.

wc ↠ 3.3k

a/n ↠ this is my first time writing this kind of fic in 6 months so i am unfortunately quite rusty…

don’t like it, don’t read.

she looked like royalty on top of him. 

you couldn’t deny it - you could never deny jennie anything. how could you? she was funny, enchanting, downright beautiful, and she was your friend of many years.

your best friend, to be exact. it was a title you were proud to claim, one you had never taken for granted. you had always been there, whether she needed to laugh or she needed to cry, and you would always be there for whatever she needed. 

but apparently, she didn’t need you for this.

it was not your intention to find her this way, to be fair. in your search for an empty bathroom, chance had led you to the one connected to the bedroom your best friend and her boy toy occupied. you had only come here in need of relief, but in her own way, jennie yearned for something similar.

yet so different all at once. you knew her voice when it came to your ears, even if it was at a pitch and with a breathlessness you had never quite heard, and your curiosity had gotten the better of you. they must have been too lost in the haze of their arousal, because they never seemed to notice they’d left the bathroom door open for all the world to see.

and you did see. you saw her on top of this nameless boy, her cashmere dress in a heap on the floor, sweat gathering at her soft skin and glimmering in the moonlight like precious pearls. you saw how pleasure took her by its gnarled hand, her lips crying the cries of angels. you saw how his greedy hands were all over her, touching her, surely not knowing just how lucky he was. 

you could only stand there, trembling with the intensity of an emotion you had never known this deeply. there was a hot throb in your chest as cruelly it tightened, and in the same moment you could hear this nameless boy swearing about how tightly she was wound around him.

in that moment, she had taken a form you had never seen of her before, becoming a thing so violently unknown to you, and all you could think about was how none of it was for you. it was certainly not the first time she’d whored herself out to someone that wasn’t you, but seeing it happen in front of you was different than being regaled on the tales. 

those boys were faceless, something you could convince yourself never existed as you pictured only jennie’s cries of ecstasy. even now, this nameless boy wasn’t so nameless anymore as you heard it fall brokenly from her lips.

but it’s okay, you consoled yourself, turning away from the door. you could fix her.

that had been three months ago at least. you were still doing everything in your power to come up with something to salvage your broken heart with, in spite of already knowing jennie got around, but you had come short of viable options.

and like that fateful night all those months before, you were at another party, because nights in new york were when party monsters like jennie came to life. and as to expected of her, she’d strutted inside sporting this lacy dress, the same vibrant red color as her lips. 

she was stunning in red. 

it was something you had told her more than once. you took your role as jennie’s best friend as though you were the queen’s aide, and in a way, that wasn’t so far from the truth. she was the queen of queens, the party monster, and a woman of her caliber had to look nothing less than like art at every party she set foot on.

that red cashmere dress lived in your head. you had been the one help her decide, and yet some boy had been the one to take it off.

“hey, where’s jen?” rosé asked, poking her head around the corner. 

“no idea,” lisa said, finishing what was left of her exquisite wine.

the two girls glanced toward you. of course they did; you were jennie’s best friend. apparently, you were supposed to know what she was up to at all times.

you sighed, peeling yourself off the sofa and sitting your drink on the table. “i’ll look,” you started. “but if she’s somewhere getting dicked down again, you’re going to make an enemy out of me.”

rosé blew you a kiss. “thanks, beautiful.”

“yeah, yeah,” you grumbled, giving your drink one last longful glance as you stepped out of the room.

you took a guess that rosé had come from the main hall and if she hadn’t scouted jennie there, then there was a fair chance she was in one of the upstairs rooms. getting dicked down, you thought disheartenedly, but you searched nonetheless.

you had only seen her that way once and it was something you surely never wanted to see ever again. the memory of the thunder in your chest still lingered and maybe the feeling itself hadn’t exactly faded.

what would it take for her to understand that she was yours? she may not have realized it yet, but you were everything she needed. you could please her in ways she’d never imagined, take her to heights that’d never before been. 

you stilled when you heard her voice, almost walking straight past the door. it was of some kind of relief that there were no moans, and she seemed to be quietly chatting about something. with the door barely open, you slipped inside, hoping that it wouldn’t creak.

it took all of two seconds to recognize her, standing at the edge of the bed, but there were no words to describe the horror on your face when you saw the thing next to her.

deep black in color, draped in some slick, indigo substance that coated it smoothly, and towering two feet over her. teeth that could kill with one slight graze. it didn’t look of this world. and yet, jennie didn’t seem afraid; she looked exasperated.

“i thought i told you to stay home,” she hissed, glaring up at the creature. whatever the hell it was.

the alien-like creature seemed indifferent, from what you could make of its features. “hungry,” was all it said.

jennie didn’t seem impressed. “you were fed before i left.”

“hungry,” it repeated, raspier, brushing a long finger down her dress.

jennie slapped its hand away, shaking her head. “no, not here. there’s people, carnal.”

carnal said nothing, overcome by a need that went beyond the bounds of human desire, and returned its finger to her dress. for a second, you thought that it would tear it to shreds, but instead it unzipped the back quicker than she could dispute.

you could hear her whining, but carnal was intent on taking and little would come between that purpose. jennie gasped when it took her by the arm and tugged her onto the floor, silently demanding in its approach, all the while her pretty red dress was tossed into oblivion. 

for whatever reason, the sight hadn’t troubled you like it did not too many moons ago. it intrigued you. part of you wanted to emerge from the cloak of the shadows to rescue her from this creature, but the other wanted to watch and see how this would unfold.

jennie’s eyes burned fiercely of ire. “i won’t do it.”

carnal glanced down at her and you swore the sight gave you shivers, but jennie didn’t move. “no?”

“no.”

you had to restrain yourself from gasping when carnal grabbed jennie by strands of hair at the back of her head. it forced her mouth onto its cock, a death grip on her tresses. her whimpers of protest were muffled, meaningless little sounds that no one would bother to hear.

it would be a lie to do otherwise, and thus you had to confess to yourself that you were bemused by the sheer size of its girthy cock. jennie could hardly fit anything an inch longer than the tip into her mouth. it stroked her limits, sped right by them.

but the part that bemused you even further was how after a minute or three, jennie didn’t seem to hate it. there was no way in hell your eyes were making up the way she sucked in every bit she could take, eagerly bobbing her head.

the muffled cries waned into muffled moans, and for no good reason. no efforts were being taken to please her in return. she was this meek little thing on her knees before an otherworldly creature with a name far too apt.

carnal did not react too strongly, but you had to assume that jennie’s potent greed did a number on it. she wasn’t going anywhere, yet the death grip on her hair only got tighter. what she couldn’t fit between her stained lips, she took in her hands and kneaded between her supple fingers.

your mind was everywhere and nowhere at the same time, stretched across a plane of thought. you were strangely immersed in the horrors in front of you, but your questions wandered. every moment that passed, you wondered if maybe you’d had a little too much to drink.

this was a dirty little secret that even you never knew your best friend had. you couldn’t even begin to fathom how this strange creature could be more than a figment of imagination, and you decided that it wasn’t. it would spare you the headache.

you could see the indent on jennie’s hollowed cheeks, hear the wet noises coming from her lips. perhaps it was stranger that you didn’t hate it. only moments ago you had been prepared to curse whatever idiot of a boy you found her with, and now you were quieter than a mouse.

jennie looked like a pebble at its feet. the beast was more massive than you cared to admit aloud, with a strength that spoke for itself, and a cock that promised total destruction and not anything less. it must’ve been part of the allure for her, because you had never seen her so eager.

and why would she be? the queen of new york city herself never had to ask for anything twice, if at all. it would be an honor for anyone to behold her bare form, but none of that power manifested here in this bedroom. she was sucking carnal off like a common whore begging for a dollar.

your memories reeled back to some instances, not many but a few, where you had noticed her visibly adjusting herself after what you could only assume had been a brief sexcapade in a closet somewhere. and for a moment you stopped to wonder if those faceless people you imagined her with had not been boys, but this damned beast.

it almost made you angrier, trying to fathom how this thing had better chances than you did at pursuing her, and all it took was a little force. had you known that, you would’ve staked your claim to her already.

greed was heavy in the air and you saw carnal seize control after allowing jennie to do as she pleased with it, fucking her mouth harder than she could manage. you couldn’t help but be aroused at the sound of her harshly choking. but she didn’t give up, taking every thrust.

quiet sounds escaped carnal’s mouth, raspy to the ears. it did not have much to say, you’d noticed, and it didn’t need to say much either. you could tell that they’d done this countless times before, because they slipped into this as though it was routine.

maybe you were making it up in your mind, but you could’ve sworn that the room had soared a thousand degrees hotter. part of it was ire on your end, but you couldn’t deny the ache in your core. to see her this way, meek and pliant, brought out an insatiable hunger within you.

by the second carnal’s thrusts were becoming more erratic, its self control seemingly unraveling hard. you were impressed that jennie hadn’t begun to choke again, in spite of the relentless pace. you were certain her jaw strained from the effort, but she still made herself a perfect little toy.

you recognized the brink of ecstasy when you saw it and carnal was at the very cusp. its groans even became a little louder, coming from the back of its throat. the only other thing you could hear was labored breathing and the wet smack of jennie’s lips.

you wouldn’t have wanted to cum that way, you would have wanted to be buried every inch deep between her legs, but after a short moment, the thrusts came to a still and carnal growled. given your angle and the darkness, it was hard to see, but you partly saw the leftover cum she couldn’t swallow drip from her chin.

jennie pushed her mouth off, wiping her lips. her naked chest was heaving for breath. when she stood, you could see the shimmer of tears in her misty eyes. she looked like a train wreck. 

not a moment later, carnal tore her towards the bed and she gave a high squeak of surprise. your gaze was fixed to her every movement. on the bed, carnal hoisted her into the air as though she was featherlight and sat her over it. jennie reached for its shoulders.

but carnal, on the other hand, had reached for something else. to your surprise, it began to lubricate her comparatively smaller cunt with its own indigo slick. jennie whimpered, arching into its long, thick fingers as they ran across her folds. there was no doubt that she had become aroused simply by pleasuring this creature, and you could only imagine the ache in her core. 

it must’ve been similar to yours. this incessant throbbing that yearned to be soothed; a hunger to touch or be touched.

“carnal,” jennie whined. “please, please…”

carnal didn’t seem to be listening to her borderline anguished cries of desperation, its fingers stretching her cunt open, almost like it was preparing her to take something much larger. but nothing was enough for an insatiable little minx like jennie. 

“i don’t care if it hurts,” jennie added, to your shock. “i just want you to fuck me. please, carnal?”

carnal slipped its fingers out of her lubricated pussy and jennie made a noise of discontent at the emptiness, in spite of it being what she had asked for. it was too dark to be certain, but you swore that for half a second, there was a dark gleam of hunger in its heavy eyes.

the alien-like beast hoisted jennie up in a single arm and steered its cock to her entrance in the other. it was still stiff in its palms, and you got the feeling that it would take far more than one orgasm to sate a beast of its nature.

it didn’t seem to be concerned with taking its time or allowing her room to adjust to the stretch, but the look on jennie’s face told you that it was what she wanted. there was pain on her lips and pleasure in her eyes, the two being bred into something lethal.

“oh my god,” jennie moaned, tightening her grip on carnal’s shoulders. 

carnal grasped her hips, using her as though she was merely some kind of toy rather than a human capable of being wounded. it lifted her up and down its thick shaft, leaving her to do nothing but squeeze her eyes shut and hold on for dear life.

you swallowed hard. when she was being used by a beast two times her size and infinitely stronger than herself, your best friend looked less and less human. she didn’t look like something worthy of respect or dignity. had you not known any better, you would’ve thought she was just some whore.

this was something that you had never seen, something different than before; when you saw her then, she was taking her power, but seeing her now, all of it had been reaped from her body.

deep, guttural grunts escaped the back of carnal’s throat as it rutted into her savagely, at a rhythm that rendered her thoughtless. jennie’s tears stung her eyes yet she kept babbling incoherently, addicted to the agony. there were red lines on her skin from where its nails had dug into her, but from how tight she clung to it, carnal was bound to have plenty of its own.

maybe in some sick, twisted way, the pain and the fear heightened the sensations of ecstasy that it tugged her nearer to every second of every minute. there was no pleasure without pain, and the promise of both had tempted jennie far beyond the point of no return. she was a fiend, you realized, for things that were bad for her.

somewhere in the midst of your astonishment of watching your best friend getting railed by nothing less than an unworldly beast, you remembered your anger, your frustrations. a thought a struck you then, selfish in nature, but bound to work in your favor. 

you pulled your phone from your rear pocket and opened the camera, getting it to focus on the two unlikely partners that were showing one another other worlds. if jennie knew you had proof of this tryst, she wouldn’t turn you down for anything. you weren’t sure why you hadn’t thought of the idea sooner.

jennie threw her head back, calling out for carnal. “harder,” she whispered.

carnal silently obliged, but it appeared more like it had lost whatever remained of its self-restraint. jennie’s sounds became louder then, higher in pitch, and you couldn’t miss the way her brows furrowed together. 

your camera didn’t, either.

the sound of sex filled the room at an unfathomable intensity. there was a very obvious wet, slick squelch of their skin meeting that anyone could have heard if they walked just shy of the door. jennie’s cunt had already been drenched with arousal on its own, but the addition of carnal’s slick didn’t help.

you almost couldn’t stand it and that feeling was inexplicably amplified knowing that whatever this thing was she surrendered herself to wasn’t even human. but you were embraced by the comfort that you would be its place soon, whether she wanted it or not.

you were imagining it. if you closed your eyes and listened only to the sound of jennie’a pretty little voice, you could picture that it was you she was making all those pitiful sounds for.

“fuck, i’m so…,” jennie trailed, unable to even get the words off the tip of her tongue. 

but she didn’t need to say it. carnal saw it. you saw it. hell, anybody half as curious as you were could have been right here, about to witness it. she was on the brink of climax, the cusp of ecstasy, and it was unkind.

and as much as it angered you, you couldn’t bear to tear your eyes away for a minute. you had to know what it was like, to see her truly unravel, to lose herself in the highs of pleasure and the throes of sex.

jennie brought a hand to her naked chest, pinching her own nipple. you could see moonlight shimmering on the beads of moisture that clung to her, dancing on the misty haze of lust in her eyes. 

it was at that moment you saw the party monster for what she really was. the intensity at last was too much for her to handle and jennie shuddered with climax, her eyes rolling to the back of her head and her toes curling. she cried out the prettiest whimper, singing a name that wasn’t yours.

and somehow none of that mattered, because the beast she let ravage her wasn’t finished. it tossed her onto the bed and continued, fucking her like an animal, like a monster.

you had seen enough. you had what you needed. with the promise of satisfaction vying against the contempt simmering deep within you, you slipped out where you had came.

too soon to see her eyes fade pitch black.

[theother-victoria]

LOVE IS CONCOCTED FROM ESTERS AND KETONES- CH. 00: PROLOGUE

NOTES: I hope this chapter gives you an idea of the setting and what's to come!

TAGLIST: @tragedy-of-commons, @mitsvriii, @harque, @nariism, @vxnuslogy, @akutasoda , @flowery-jazz , @gabile18 , @khoncore

Somewhere within the heart of the universe lies a perfumery on an unremarkable planet, its simplicity belittling its fame. From its exterior, it looks like any other shop on the street. Simple, with a cute sign and clean exterior. They’re closed on Mondays but for the rest of the week, they open at ten am on the weekdays and close at six pm with extended hours on the weekends. 

The inside, however, tells a different story. It’s far more spacious than the outside would lead one to believe. The poor, overworked air purifiers can be heard running 24/7 to prevent the air from becoming suffocating. The shelves go as far back as the eye can see and are stocked with bottles of different colors, sizes, and designs- each of them hefty and works of art in their own right. Each of them have different scent profiles and all of them are handcrafted by the enigmatic owner who formulates and tests each scent in the lab located behind the shop. 

… The test subjects just happen to be the two shop assistants who are more than happy to be their boss’ guinea pigs. 

The shop itself is split into three sections- male, female, and unisex. Perfumes are arranged based on the fragrance family- fresh, floral, woodsy- before being further arranged by notes- green, fruity, gourmand- since people often walk in wanting to smell like a specific note, which the owner and shop assistants are happy to work with. However, there’s a rumor that you’ll get the best results when you come in with an idea, a concept, in mind. 

“I want to smell like worn, old, musty jewelry that’s probably tangled.” There’s a scent for that.

“Do you have anything that smells like a day at the fair as a kid?” Yes, there is.

“How about a warm rock?” Second display case in the unisex section, fifth shelf down, third bottle from the left, the green one. 

There’s also the option to get a custom-made fragrance, although it’ll carry a heftier price tag than the already-pricy wares. But for many, it’s a small price to pay for something that’s uniquely personal to them. 

All of this has led to celebrities, politicians, and other rich and famous people from across the galaxy to flock to this store, which has been the biggest reason for the store’s meteoric rise to fame. It started off as the name being shared among circles and it gradually rippled out from there until it reached the level of renown it has today. Celebrities often quote a bottle from the store as their signature and/or favorite scent in interviews and the paparazzi always snap a bunch of photos whenever a particularly high-profile person leaves the store with a bag in hand. 

Rumor has it that the advertising benefits for the shop are top-tier too, which is why they practically jump at the chance to promote the newest scents. 

But while the shop’s fame is undeniable, there isn’t much known about the owner. They’ve dodged the media’s questions ever since the shop’s popularity exploded and even the two assistants don’t know much besides what’s publicly available. It seems as if they intend for things to stay that way as well. 

Not only do you want to keep your secrets close, but you also want to preserve that sense of monotony that comes with running a business for as long you have. Wake up, get ready, open the store for business, and handle the various customers that come into the shop until closing.

But unbeknownst to you, there’s a wave of new customers coming, each with their peculiarities that you’ve never quite had to deal with before, and they’re interested in more than just your wares.

Keeping your inventory stocked and your heart guarded is your modus operandi for running your business. But between running your business, staying on top of orders, and dealing with these new customers… this may be a difficult task to follow for the foreseeable future. 

the taglist is open for this series and the rest of my works!

@ theother-victoria, do not copy, repost, modify, translate, or feed to ai

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

Oh okay, thank you for clarifying! I have seen quite a few polls on tumblr and on ATLA’s youtube page going hard Kataang over Zutara, that’s why I was asking. I think the best example is the one made by @hundredyearavatar here on Tumblr. Someone had a very interesting take in the comments though, saying that when the show aired the kids liked Kataang better, but the teens with online access preferred Zutara. Now, those kids grew up and everyone is on the internet, so this is why Kataang is more popular nowadays. It’s relatively hard to find a poll online where Zutara is far ahead of Kataang, I’ve seen most either at 50/50 or with a clear Kataang preference. If you judge by fan art and fanfics however, yea, there’s way more zutara stuff out there, but again, that tends to happen with non-canon ships. Ships that could have been tend to get more fan attention and stand out for people not familiar with the show, I agree with that, but I’m not sure if you downright were to ask people they’d mostly say Zutara is their favourite over Kataang. Does that make sense?

Polls are not an accurate reading of how an entire fandom feels, it's just impossible to make everyone not only see it, but also vote it (especially in polls that only have Kataang OR Zutara as an option, without "both" or "neither" as that excludes some nuance).

Polls are, at most, a way to tell in which corner of the fandom you found yourself in. If I, an anti-zutara blog, whose posts tend to be seen/shared almost exclusively by people who have some issue with the ship/shippers, were to make a poll asking people if they liked Zutara the winning answer would obviously be " HELL NO!" If a zutara blog, whose posts are seen/shared mostly by zutara fans, asks the exact same question the winning answer will obviously be "HELL YES!"

The official Nickelodeon accounts tend to have pro-canon results because they (mostly) post about canon content. People who wouldn't change that much about ATLA are their target audience, aka the ones voting. You'll find the zutara fandom in spaces like change.org, making petitions to make the ship happen in the Netflix version.

That being said, I don't think think it's fair to dismiss Zutara's popularity in places like AO3 or FF.NET (or especially in pre-internet era fandom) as being a natural consequence of it being "the non-canon option." There are tons of fandoms where the canon pairings are highly popular and have tons of fan works, even if the story shows us all the "main" things that happen in a romance (first meeting, moment they realize/admit their feelings, first kiss, first time, wedding, having kids, etc). Not to mention, Zutara is not the only non-canon ship in Avatar, so it having been THE most popular for over a decade, and still being super popular today, to the point that it is one of the things even people who never watched Avatar know about, cannot simply be explained away with "people gonna write what the show didn't give them."

I also don't think "Kataang kids got internet now" explains why it became more popular/zutara isn't treated as untouchable anymore. The internet wasn't as wide-spread in the mid 2000s but it did exist, and both ships had fans who were kids, teens and adults. I think this change happened because of three things:

1 - People change their minds sometimes, especially if they watch the same stuff over and over through the years.

2 - The zutara fandom got way too smug about being popular and way too bitter about not being canon, to the point of harrassing others over it, and thus people that were previously indifferent to the ship (or actually liked it, but weren't die-hard stans) grew to dislike it. I used to not care for either Kataang or Zutara, but seeing one fandom be mostly reasonable in their arguments in favor of their favorite pairing while the other was super entitled made me look at both differently.

3 - A LOT of the people in the fandom right now weren't fans back when it first aired (some having not even been ALIVE), but had already heard about Zutara: and watched the show expecting it to be an actual romantic possibility that was taken seriously and got lots of screentime, but simply ended up not being canon at the very last second due to executive meddling. Instead they saw Kataang being set up from the start, Maiko being set up since season two, both having big roles in the story... while Zutara had a few fanservice-y moments. They went in expecting a love triangle in which they'd have to decide if "Katara made the right choice" only to discover she never even CONSIDERED dating Zuko - who also never thought of her like that either. It was a pure "THAT'S IT? IT WAS A PURE FANON THING? THAT'S ALL THERE WAS TO IT?" Expectation is the mother of disappointment.

[vintagerpg]

So, for a long time, Midnight Rogue (1987) was my favorite Fighting Fantasy book. I like thieves. This book is about an elaborate test of thieving skills to gain entrance into Blacksands’ thieves guild, by stealing a massive gem. You get thieving skills in addition to the regular FF rules (you only get three, though, so make sure one of them is lockpicking or you’re going to be frustrated). Then you go about the city, shaking people down for clues and generally being a menace to polite society. Stu circa 1990 ate this up.

2023 Stu, fresh off a recent re-read, is a little grumbly. Those things above are true, but here are some more facts. The whole thing is shockingly linear. Like, nearly straight as an arrow if you’re not picking the daftest options. There are also a fair number of errors in the book, which is not a thing I usually notice or care overmuch about with gamebooks, which means these must be rather glaring. And the ending, dear god, talk about a St. Elsewhere level betrayal of a twist. I legit did not remember this from back in the day, to the point I genuinely wonder if I ever finished the damn book as a kid. All the aggravating things about this book smack harder because the core concept is such a good one, and for the most part the book carries it off. Perfection was so close!

Ah, but this is why you should sometimes be content to experience a thing once. At the very least, I got to appreciate the John Sibbick art with newly adoring eyes, now that I have a better understanding of his place in the UK fantasy art traditions. Cover and interiors are both him. I particularly like the first-person views of thieving maneuvers going wrong. Fun stuff.

[almightyrayzilla]

I promise you, this is the only time I will ever willingly post AI generated imagery on any of my pages...but G-Fest is DEAD to me. I first attended in 2006, then again in 2009. I got my start doing artist alley tables at this show in 2010, then branched out to other shows. I even did the promo art for the 2019 show. I cannot tell you how much of my life was shaped from meeting the folks I have met because of this convention.

I'm not even mad. I'm sitting here along with my fellow artists, laughing our asses off. Not because it's funny, but because NONE of us are deeply surprised.

Let's go back a bit.

In 2018, the artist alley (AA) was moved to the lower floor of the hotel. Now I let this slide - the Crowne Plaza had just replaced the area that was used previously with the Caddyshack restaurant. Duh, we couldn't use that area anymore. There was some pushback, that maybe something else could be moved downstairs, but there was refusal to budge. Whatever, us artists actually did pretty good that year, despite a rather sequestered and tight space.

Then for 2019 - we were told a Toho rep was coming, and we were hit with a 30% limitation, which essentially meant that for every ten pieces of art we had, only three of them were allowed to be Toho related. Gamera, Ultraman, Kamen Rider - fair game. I mean, let's put aside that no one could enforce that (and no one tried) - the person in question wasn't even tied to Toho. And even if they were...they'd be more concerned about, say, bootleg DVDs and such.

Personally speaking, my sales were even better, so even with the limitation, people still did alright. Gee, it's almost as if AA is a big attraction at a convention, especially one as niche as this.

Then 2020, when our good friend COVID-19 came about. Someone decided it'd be a good idea to spread misinformation about the pandemic with G-Fest's Twitter page. Among those who spoke up were the artists who regularly attended through its artist alley. A Facebook page that was specifically set up for AA members to share info and whatnot was then told to no longer associate with G-Fest.

And for the record, G-Fest didn't happen that year because of a statewide mandate. No no, the con wasn't canceled it because they recognized the severity of things, it's because Illinois shut everything down.

Well, here comes prep for 2021 (which ultimately became the 2022 show, since it was pushed back again). That's when G-Fest hit us with the AA contract. It forbade artists from selling prints of Toho fan art (originals/commissions were okay, but not reproductions), unless we held a license to sell prints of that work. We could not sell Godzilla fan art prints at this Godzilla convention. We tried to speak with them, to see if there could be some compromise...which there wasn't. They kept saying that the reason for it was to stay on good terms with Toho, even citing a big C&D sweep Toho was doing (they were after bootleggers, not fan artists). Heck, even one of my good friends actually did get a C&D (prior to said sweep), and they have legal word that they were allowed to sell prints of Godzilla art. But apparently, that wasn't good enough for G-Fest. HMMMMM...

I was actually willing to abide by these tighter rules, even planning on trolling them with a few pieces of Jirahs and Gomess (though Jirahs without the frill might have been a bit too risky, lol). We were trying to talk with the head of the vendor room, who was not exactly being clear and timely with responses. Well, someone went to the head of the show to ask if they were being compliant with the rules - I guess they gave a different answer, because that's when the showrunners started bickering about not seeing eye-to-eye on some things, ultimately telling the artist it's best they not come.

That's when I backed out. A few of us had paid for our table/badge for the 2020 show, which was rolled over; with the option available, I asked for the refund. The head of the vendor room said the request was put in. Almost two weeks go by. I go to the showrunner, and within 20 minutes, I get the refund. Look, I know G-Fest isn't a big corporate show, and I try not to be a snob, but I expect SOME professionalism. that's why I've backed out and refuse to ever attend G-Fest ever again. But that's not where things stopped.

During the 2022 show, I was told an artist said screw it and put Godzilla prints out on their table to sell. I laughed and said, "Yeah, and how much of that was playing favorites?" I mean, G-Fest kicking this person out? That would be glorious. But someone like me? I'm pretty sure they'd have banned me on the spot. And I'm not even going to get into the vendor who was selling bootleg DVDs, so...yeah. And from what I hear, the 2023 show forbade ALL fan art prints, not just Toho IPs. I can't imagine how hard they're gritting their teeth trying not tell artists to get lost outright.

*deep breath* And that brings us to today's nonsense. After all that, they pull this. And of course they've turned off comments on the Facebook posts for these...pictures. I mean, after my turn in 2019, we had the idea of giving each AA artist a shot to do the promo art each year before all this crap reared its ugly head.

Like I said, I'm not even mad, I'm actually having a good laugh over all this. If I'm shocked by anything, it's how quickly this convention pulled its 180. The point of this post is to just be informative of what has been going on the past couple years, and why the artists who usually go haven't come back.

But most of all, if/when people ask if I'm going to G-Fest next year, here's the TL;DR version: NO.

[the-fiction-witch]

I Dare You... P1

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Cute + Funny

I sat on the theatre steps bottle in my hand, and a few steps up with a bottle of his own sat Dr Dawkins, Together we were... tipsy. 

But It was understandable, It had been a boring day. 

A storm hung over Port Victory the sky dark and grey, rain battering the earth, the lights lit to try and starve the dark, most if not everyone huddled away in their homes, in that quiet where people don't want to go out as anything important isn't worth getting soaked over.

The hospital had been fairly quiet today, with only a few little things to deal with but not much else.

The sound of the wind and rain battering the world coming though the large window in the theatre, shadows of the rain across the bloody operating table. 

So as we had little to do, Jack and I sat on the theatre seats with a beer each. 

We had said we'd remain mostly sober, just one drink but in the boredom and darkness of the day, I don't think anyone can blame us for the few we had. 

"Jack?"

"Umm?" He mumbled as he sipped his drink, his feet up on the wooden seats his arm leant over his knee, 

"I'm bored," I said but then it clicked, 

"Yep."

"There's nothing to do."

"Yep."

"Jack... Entertain me."

"Why?"

"Because I'm bored."

"How about... we play a game?"

"Ohh? What sort of game?" I glared, "Becuase we're not playing Jack says! I'm not falling for that again." 

"Ohhh come on it was fun!"

"It was not! something else."

"Fine... How about truth or dare?"

"Are we sixteen? Is this a sleepover?"

"Just trying to help, fine I'll shut up." He said as he sipped his drink again, 

"Fine, Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Alright...  when was the last time you cried?"

For a moment he glared at me, "I am not drunk enough for this... uhhh Yesterday probably."

"Why?"

"I stubbed my toe getting out of bed,"

"Awwww, that's fair."

"Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Hum... What's something you do, when you think you're alone?"

"bite my nails."

"Why?"

"I don't know if it's comforting, and my mum used to slap my hands for doing it I just kinda absentmindedly do it when alone." 

"You shouldn't do that."

"Yeah yeah, I know." I rolled my eyes "Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Do you... have anyone you hate?"

"How long have you got" he chuckled,

"Really?"

"I hate a lot of people. People are dicks," He shrugs, "Truth or dare?"

"truth," 

"If you could have any animal as a pet what would you have?"

"A bat."

"Really?"

"Yeah, there freaking adorable." 

"Fair enough." 

This went on for a while of back and forth with various questions none of which were all that interesting, 

"When was the last time you had a bath?"

"...That seems invasive." He chuckled, "And your tone implies you're gonna judge my answer."

"Yes. Yes, I am Jack."

"...Last week."

"You're a gross little man."

"I know," He sighed, "Truth or dare?"

"Uhhh Dare!"

"Oohh Brave girl, Alright finish your drink."

I rolled my eyes and forced down the rest of my bottle, "Truth or dare."

"truth."

"You can't pick truth forever Jack,"

"Next time."

"What's the best advice someone has ever given you?"

He chuckled a little, "I was once told, that no matter what you do in life there are three options, You can do it good, you can do it fast, you can do it easy. But you can only pick two, so if it's good and fast it's not gonna be easy, if it's easy and fast it's not gonna be good, if your trying to make it easy and good well you're not gonna be fast. Think about that a lot."

"Hu... That is kinda insightful. Who told you that?"

"Captian Grimm. Served under him in the navy." 

"He sounds like a very smart man,"

"He could be." He nodded, "truth or dare?"

"truth."

"What's the most trouble you've ever been in?"

"Ohhh Uhhh? My mother caught me cutting the heads off my dolls as a kid."

"Why?"

"I was crazy."

"was?"

"Hey!"

"Sorry."

"It's fine." I glared, "Truth or dare."

"truth."

"Jack!"

"Last one I swear."

"What's your greatest fear?"

"Intimacy. Abandonment and silence."

"Why the silence?"

"You spent ten years on a ship in pitch black, completely silent, it freaks you out." 

"Fair enough,"

"What are you scared of?"

"I didn't say truth,"

"No, I'm just asking you."

"...Time."

"Time?"

"it's ever going, ever flowing constantly nature."

"Fair enough." 

[mynamesaplant]

When a Girl Falls from the Sky

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Hello reader! Welcome to my extremely last minute MerMay story. Truth be told, it is only tangentially related to MerMay - more set in an AU that has a lot of mers. Still, I hope you enjoy!!

Summary: Professor Laventon gets a new research assistant, but a lot of strange things seem to keep happening around her. Come Hell or high water - and both are very real options as Hisui finds itself sinking into the sea - Laventon will have Dawn's back!

Content Warnings:This fic contains brief mentions of blood and violence against children.

Notes: Thanks once again to all the inspiration from monsoon-of-art on Tumblr and their PLA Mer AU. You're amazing and your knowledge of the ocean astounds and frightens me. For more context on Dawn's encounter with Volo, please read here. Don't like to read on Tumblr? Read it here on AO3.

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The silence felt oppressive to his ears, the professor had forced himself to stop pacing around his lab to avoid burning a hole in the carpet. He tapped his foot to fill the quiet, anything would be better than to sit there with the thought that they would eject Dawn from the village.

No.

He had to have faith in Cyllene.

She was a fair captain.

Laventon closed his eyes. Rather than his worries that she would be kicked out, he felt the crash of phantom waves against his legs, threatening to bowl him over. His face scrunched, his mouth creasing into a frown when an involuntary shiver ran up his spine – he felt the cold screaming through his limbs. Early spring waters were deceptive like that; ice-free but retaining that deadly cold that would kill a human within minutes when left to their own devices.

Had he not seen her falling from the sky like a shooting star, her body enshrouded in a burning light that almost blinded him, she would have drowned. Unconscious and already sinking, he had barely managed to reach her in time before she went under.

Towing her back through the choppy water wasn’t easy. When he finally managed to drag her to the shore, she wasn’t breathing, and her skin was equal parts cold and pale.

“No, no, no!”

Laventon hissed through chattering teeth, hauling the girl into his lap so she wasn’t face first in the sand, before aiming some well-placed pats at her back. Nothing happened. He stifled a curse, measuring the strength of the next few strikes until he heard a guttural cough and then a sputter.

Quivering arms wrapped around him, but Laventon couldn’t tell if she was cold or scared.

Pesselle had yelled at him when he burst through the doors of her medical wing. Too busy getting yelled at, he did not see where the girl in his arms had been taken to, but he didn’t argue when she shunted him into his office to strip, chucking a blanket in as an afterthought. He couldn’t even manage an embarrassed blush – that’s how cold he was. He obeyed the medic’s command, after all, wet clothes were a death sentence.

Bagin was sent in a few minutes later, instructed to monitor and to stoke the fire in the hearth.

“The girl-”

“Calm yourself, professor. Pesselle will most likely bring her in here. This room is infernally hot.”

As if on cue, three of the Medical Corp opened the door, two of whom were carrying the girl on a stretcher. She was out cold, her raven black hair still damp and plastered on her forehead. The rattle in her chest was worrisome, but not something that Pesselle couldn’t work her magic on.

The girl’s stretcher was laid before the hearth and one of the medics remained in the room, told by Pesselle to be on standby in case their unconscious patient woke up. Laventon sighed, looking at this poor child and scootching a little closer to lay a hand on hers, her fingers twitched but she didn’t wake. He didn’t want her to wake up alone.

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

Dawn.

Her name was Dawn.

That was all she seemed to recall.

That first night when she woke up in a panic, shivering and drawing the blankets tighter around herself, he was able to temporarily assuage her fears. Laventon was the one who convinced her to drink some broth and tea. It was Laventon who interjected on Dawn’s behalf as Kamado and Cyllene debated on what to do with her.

“She’s young! A young mind is moldable and inquisitive.” When that didn’t seem to move either the commander or captain, Laventon was quick to stammer out that he needed another research assistant. “Rei is a wonderful young man, but Dawn… she’s practically fearless. She would be an invaluable asset to my little team.”

His voice was bordering on pleading because he knew what happened to those who were not useful to the team. Kamado seemed skeptical and Cyllene looked as unreadable as ever.

Laventon would stake his reputation on it. If she failed, he failed.

He had seen her inquisitive nature when he took her back to the beach to find any possession that might have arrived with her. She seemed a little wary of the water but spent most of the time rummaging through the sand and surf asking questions about his research. Dawn hung on to his every word, beaming when he told her about his excursions to the north of the continent where a few species of penguin could be found.

He knew she was chock full of potential. It was just a matter of harnessing it.

The conversation that ensued between the professor and the soon-to-be researcher was candid. It had to be. Neither Captain Cyllene nor Commander Kamado would be sensitive to her situation, so Laventon merely did his best to mentally prepare her for the meeting that he was not permitted to attend.

She passed Cyllene’s test with flying colors and was in the field the next day with him and Rei at the tidal pools. Dawn would snatch crabs from the depths with lightning reflexes, careful to avoid pinching as she called out measurements and sex to Rei for each specimen.

A charming little quirk she developed over time was to thank every crab before tossing them into a bucket, so the creature was not counted twice that day. Laventon would then carefully tag each crab for future researching purposes and return them to the pools. With the three of them, they could get the work done with twice the speed, since Rei was hesitant to collect anything from the water; he was happy to just record numbers and sketch each specimen pulled from the pools.

“Professor,” Rei was bringing a small wagon for their supplies as the tides slowly began to reclaim the shore. Laventon looked over at Dawn as he dabbed at his forehead in the mid-afternoon heat, trying to avoid sweat in his eyes. “Thank you… for vetting me.”

Oh.

“Of course, my dear girl! Of course. I couldn’t ask for an assistant as hands-on as you.”

Dawn offered him a wobbly smile in return, sniffling quietly before dipping some of the instruments into the water to get the grit and grime off them.

They returned to the village in amiable silence.

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It took every fiber of his being not to panic. Rei was talking so fast, breathless and dizzy, but the words didn’t make sense – well, all but four.

Dawn in the water.

Since nearly drowning when Laventon found her, Dawn had been reluctant to get near water where she couldn’t see the bottom. Although he had done his best to route her research inland, Cyllene occasionally had her out on ships to take stock of the variety of fish surrounding the continent of Hisui. 

On those days, Dawn would return to his office wordlessly, deposit the reports that Cyllene had already pored over into his overflowing in-bin, collapsed onto the sofa, and cocooned herself up in an afghan. It was an ordeal, but one that he found quite understandable given her circumstances.

Rei had found her, unresponsive and cold, on the rocks. Although close to the same age, Rei was smaller than Dawn, she was at least three inches and twenty pounds heavier than the other teen and, despite this, he single-handedly hauled her up the muddy path from the tide pools and the half mile to the village. The professor only just took in the splatters of mud and blood on the uniform newly adorned with tears from the branches snagging him as he ran. Blood dribbled from his balled fists, his head hung as he mumbled to himself about being faster.

If I had been faster… If I had realized sooner…

If, if, if –

“You did all you could, Rei. You mustn’t blame yourself for this. You hear me? You mustn’t. No use in it.”

He gently pried the young man’s hand open and took stock of the gravel and dirt embedded into the heels of his hands. Rei must have fallen carrying her. One pant leg was torn open at the knee and extended down almost to his ankle, it bore similar damage to his hands.

Laventon instructed him to sit so he might tend to his superficial wounds before Pesselle discovered that he avoided the medical wing. He wanted her to focus on Dawn, so he quickly fled to Laventon’s office.

With soft tipped forceps that he usually reserved for insect specimens, Laventon removed the gravel and gently washed the wounds with soap and water to avoid infection.

“Dawn will be alright.”

He said, unsure if he was saying it to assuage Rei’s or his own fears.

Dawn was made of tougher stock than that…

It just didn’t make sense to Laventon why she would have been down there at all in such a tumultuous storm. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t know until she awoke, and he had the distinct feeling that the answer would be unsatisfactory.

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

He can’t say he didn’t notice the dramatic heel turn that Dawn took after her second, near-fatal drowning. Cyllene’s steely gaze flicked almost imperceptibly to him and then back to the eager girl before her, her expression neutral as she asked why she wanted to spend more time on the ships.

“I can’t avoid the water forever. If I don’t learn out at sea where I have no choice but to be surrounded by water, when else will I learn?”

While the reasoning wasn’t so sound, Cyllene wasn’t going to turn down a young, able body. Her stints on a research vessel and then fishing boat were – as the two captains tried to politely put it – filled with nausea. With Dawn’s fear of the water dulled with her three weeks at sea, she returned to her work with Laventon with little fanfare and worked just as hard as she ever had.

Something was different about her.

He couldn’t put his finger on it, but Dawn was different.

Almost distant.

She kept asking for assignments in parts of the region that were not well explored by the Galaxy Team. Even as Laventon tried to object, Kamado and Cyllene were swift to silence him, as the ultimate goal was to explore.

“Dawn…” Laventon loathed himself for even speaking up. His young associate was chatting away about her recent mission which involved her going to the far eastern shores where, or so he was told, the waters were warm, and a volcano smoked ominously just off the sugary white sand shores. “I’m worried about you.”

Her excited expression was wiped away with an abrupt and confused frown.

What was she doing wrong? She was doing exactly what the captain and commander wanted, so why would he say something like that? She didn’t understand.

His mouth went dry, his hand absently scratching his scalp under his woolen hat, which was just a vain attempt to avoid eye contact. He really did make this awkward.

“Er, what I suppose I mean is…” Laventon took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to slow down the flurry of words crowding his brain and trying to leave his mouth all at once. “The progress you’ve made is phenomenal. You’re doing such good work for the team… but I feel as though you’re pushing yourself too hard.”

That at least made her face soften.

“My job is important, professor. If I don’t do it, who’s gonna get it done?”

That was true to some degree. He was only one person and, although he appreciated him thoroughly for everything he did, Rei was not as willing to forge new paths to record the land of Hisui for future generations of field conservationists.

“I suppose,” he admitted, offering her a sheepish smile. “I just don’t want to see such a brightness burn out too soon. Like Eos, you need your rest to be the best version of you.”

Although the comparison seemed lost on her, Dawn did not ask him to explain, she offered him a tired smile and approached him with open arms. Laventon readily accepted her hug, resting his cheek on the top of her head as he felt her heave out a great sigh.

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

“Good gracious!”

“You promised me you wouldn’t freak out!”

“Dawn – This is…”

Laventon was at a loss for words. So was Rei beside him, his jaw flapping like a fish gasping for oxygen. He had seen her toting that strange flute around for some time now and he had just assumed it was something she had bought to pass the time on long journeys across the continent.

That was not the case.

She played her flute and was swept up in bright light before appearing before them with the stark white tail of a harp seal pup where her legs should have been. Rei had stumbled back into a table, knocking the papers and instruments to the floor and Laventon stood motionless. It suddenly made a lot more sense why she spent more time in the uncharted wilderness.

“Are you… Is that thing cursed? How is this happening?”

If Dawn had been expecting him to be upset, she was mistaken. In fact, Laventon, after the initial shock, was beaming with excitement. Mysteries like these were the most intriguing things that the natural world had to offer!

The story had its holes, of course. Dawn had them both sit down so she could explain the whole thing, and both were glad that she had, because each twist and turn left them in greater shock than the last.

“A whole society of mer-people?”

He was almost giddy with excitement, but Rei was quick to put a hamper on it as he said something chilling under his breath.

“Beni did see a monster… They’re the ones destroying the ships…”

“They’re not monsters!”

“They destroyed ships, Dawn!”

“Alright, alright.” Laventon stood up quickly, inserting himself between the two teens with hands outstretched to signal them to stop. “We cannot pass judgment on these creatures – No, people. I apologize. We came into their territory, unwittingly or not, and they’re responding to that invasion. However, they seem like intelligent, emotional beings from what you’ve told us, so perhaps we can come to some sort of arrangement with-”

“I don’t think that’s possible, professor.”

Dawn interjected, nibbling on her lower lip. She had tried to get them to stop without outing herself as a human herself, but they still felt threatened. Laventon thought of a cornered cat baring its fangs, hissing and spitting in warning, but the Galaxy Team did not know of the existence of mer-people, let alone the signals of warning they were issuing.

Oh, what a sticky situation indeed.

Did these people have something to do with the rising waters that were threatening Galaxy Team? Each week the waters slowly swallowed up more and more of the land, forcing them to move further inland and abandon all the progress they had made. It would certainly benefit them. If this continued, then the team would have no choice but to return from whence they came, but Dawn told them no.

“It hurts them, too. They have these… Sacred animals. Some of them live on land and others have been going berserk. I’ve been – uh… Dealing with them.”

His eye twitched, trying to ignore the idea that Dawn was explicitly putting herself in danger to ask something else. The mere thought alone made his stomach churn uncomfortably. However unprofessional, Laventon had come to care for Dawn like she was his own, hence the immediate desire to tell her to never do anything so dangerous ever again.

He didn’t need to say anything however, because Rei did it for him.

“Didn’t you say one of those animals was a turtle the size of a mountain?”

Ludicrous. Preposterous. Absurd.

Dawn’s redirection spoke volumes.

“I need some way to neutralize jellyfish venom… From a big jellyfish.”

Laventon sat down heavily, head in his hands because he was starting to develop a headache. He was a scientist. He was trained to be open to any and all possibilities – magic though? Dawn had literally performed the impossible before his eyes.

In a sudden movement, the professor got up, startling both teens, and strode across the room to riffle through his unorganized papers.

“I have to have something here about jellyfish.”

It might have been impossible, but if Dawn needed his help, then he would do everything in his power to assist her.

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

Cyllene levelled a hard stare at him and Laventon glowered right back.

Nothing he said swayed Kamado. Everyone looked at her like she was a monster when she was very much a sweet girl who had only ever done her best to help. He was inches from a row, one he would lose in heartbeat, and it would have been worth it for how Kamado treated Dawn.

Since Cyllene by way of Zisu had prevented him from engaging in any sort of fight, Laventon was now trying to drag a rowboat across Prelude Beach and again found resistance.

“Please move, captain.”

He was trying to keep his voice level. It wasn’t working.

“You know I can’t. We need your expertise now more than ever in the village. I cannot in good conscious standby and let you go on a fruitless rescue mission.”

“And I cannot in good conscious stand here while she’s out there fending for herself while the whole of Hisui gets devoured by the sea!” Laventon felt the blood rushing to his head, his thoughts as clouded as the blackening sky above. He had failed. “I can’t…”

The captain stood before, as unmoved as she had been before, and Laventon felt like all the wind was knocked out of him. All he could do was look down at her pleadingly and Cyllene’s face was stone-cold.

“I ordered Dawn to not die alone out there. She will come back to us – alive. Perhaps not unscathed, but she will come back. Now please, Professor Laventon, return to the village. We haven’t much time.”

Begrudgingly, he followed.

Zisu and Sanqua were in the process of evacuating, Pesselle and her staff helping the elderly and infirmed into a cart that was to take them further inland. Cyllene and Laventon splashed through the rapidly rising water, the encroaching sea which had been inching inland was now flooding the newly erected houses of Jubilife Village. Timbers groaned against the rushing rapids but were temporarily still upright.

Sanqua called out to them that they must hurry, because the structures would not hold for long.

Cyllene took charge in the commander’s conspicuous absence, barking out orders to her fellow captains and to the inhabitants. Laventon made a mad dash for Galaxy Hall where Rei was scrambling to collect all of his notes and books – anything that would be of use to them. His method was haphazard, but the professor wordlessly joined him and crammed a bag full before shoving his assistant out.

“Is anyone else here? Anyone?”

Laventon called frantically, but there was only the sound of water from outside.

He left Galaxy Hall, the stream flowing through Jubilife already overtaking its banks and the smell of salt stinging his nose as waves crashed into the western gate. Professor Laventon did not look back, only looking up to the blood red sky and silently begging Dawn for forgiveness and the Almighty for her safety.

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

She barely got the words out as Laventon tackled her into a hug.

One so tight that she wheezed, but she returned his hug with equal vigor. He didn’t care about the mer-people staring daggers at him, his analytical mind didn’t immediately take over to have him barrel over and immediately begin examining every inch of Dawn’s new friends.

No.

Professor Laventon just held her, his knees aching from where they made hard contact with the sand and his heart pounding so hard and fast that he was fearful of a bout of tachycardia if he did not force himself to take a breath.

“You’re safe. Oh Dawn, thank the Almighty, you’re safe.”

She had some scratches and bruises, but like Cyllene suggested, she was mostly unscathed. Although not a particularly religious man, Laventon couldn’t help but thank all the gods listening for keeping her alive.

He drew back, carefully swiping the quiet tears from her cheeks and scrubbed at his own scruffy face with his forearm. It was only after that that he felt several pairs of eyes burning through him and he shrunk away from the imposing figures looming behind his young assistant. Dawn seemed to notice the radiating emotions from behind her and turned to say he was a friend.

“Professor Laventon taught me everything. He’s my biggest cheerleader.”

Dawn had to stifle a wet giggle when Laventon blushed, unconsciously rubbing the back of his neck with embarrassment. His reply was sheepish,

“Suppose I am…”

One mer-person, by far the biggest one there, emitted a low growl of contempt that made Laventon wince.

“Actually, that’s not fair. Ingo is tied with you.”

Dawn gestured to the merman in question, the bright blue of the sky sending his face into shadow and his folded arms made him remarkably unapproachable. The fact that his torso extended into the body of an absolutely massive orca did not send the best message either.

However –

“You, er – You looked after her, Mr. Ingo?”

He cleared his throat, but it still sounded a bit shrill.

“Yes, I took Dawn on as my charge when I became aware of her transformations. She has been a part of my cab for a considerable time now.”

Professor Laventon swallowed his fear, trying his best to replace it with the gratitude he knew was inside him under the intimidation.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

The merman lifted his hand and tipped a hat that Laventon had not realized was atop his head, his dark expression momentarily clear and he realized that he had nothing to worry about. He and Mr. Ingo were the same. They cared about Dawn and that was the only understanding they really needed.

“Would you mind introducing me to everyone else?”

The professor said after a moment, Dawn pulled him to his feet after she played a brief, haunting tune on her flute. This time, she hugged him properly, her fingers practically wringing the back of his shirt and her face pressed into the filthy tweed vest. That was all he needed to know that she had just been through an ordeal and was keeping up a front because that’s what she always did.

This whole time she had been living a double life and there were still unknown consequences to her actions. He didn’t need to ask to know she was terrified and didn’t know how to let it show to anyone but him.

“There, there.”

He soothed, feeling her sag against him. Laventon exhaled slowly, feeling her shoulders shake with a silent sob.

“Come what may, I will always be beside you and, in the end, it will all be alright.”

With that assurance and a hard gulp of air, Dawn turned around to begin introducing her mentor to the various members of the Diamond and Pearl Clans in attendance.

Even with his worries with Dawn, he had to tamp down the excitement he felt from being able to identify helpful adaptations and deviations from human and various animal anatomy.

By the time dusk rolled around, the one Dawn called Adaman – the leader of the Diamond Clan – was half blushing, half smirking as the professor marveled at the intricate webbing between his fingers.

Both leaders were giving him their assurances that they would assist the Galaxy Team in any way they could while the ocean slowly receded. It would be some time before that happened though, so they whole village took refuge in the skeletal remains of a temple on top of the mountain.

“Truthfully, I should not be the one negotiating this. You should really talk to Commander Kamado-”

“We would prefer not to at present.”

Irida’s voice was icy and Adaman pulled his hand back, a snarl morphing his face at the mention of the name.

“Erm… Perhaps Captain Cyllene then?”

She was the next best option, of course. All three mer-people turned to Dawn and only turned back to Laventon after receiving an assenting nod.

Thank Almighty. He was no politician.

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

The constant flux between water and land was usual for Dawn by this point. Much of the unusual became common place by this point. The awkward first phase of the villagers meeting the mer-people was long over. Full cooperation was essential for survival.

Laventon likened it to anemones and clownfish.

Symbiosis.

The clans seemed to respond particularly well to him and Rei in particular, since their interest was in the natural world there was a lot less explanation involved with basic day-to-day activities that mer-people engaged in. They also were extremely careful with the world around them, admiring and studying, but never interfering.

All the wardens, however begrudgingly, allowed Laventon to examine them – and he was diligent but deferential. Since Dawn trusted him, they trusted him, and the professor would never betray that trust.

Once the waters lowered, Jubilife Village began to surge with life once more. Kamado had issued an apology to Dawn; everyone agreed it was half-hearted at best, but Dawn forgave him. The sad smile and haunted look to her eyes made it plain that she didn’t bear the commander any chagrin, because she knew exactly what he was afraid of.

For a time, everything seemed so normal.

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

Dawn crawled back to Jubilife, blood matted in her hair and dried on her face save for the streak marks her tears had cut through it.

Volo.

Laventon had such admiration for the man. He had been such a help to Dawn when she had been abandoned on all sides. He even spent a lot of money on a bottle of Beni’s good sake to thank the merchant.

He had been conspiring. Boiling with an unseen rage and contempt that had nearly killed Dawn, twice.

Laventon insisted on telling the clan leaders – alone. He didn’t think Cyllene or Kamado would be able to explain it with the same level of anger that the man had burning through every capillary and neuron.

Adaman and Irida’s reactions ranged from confusion to shock to an unbridled fury that Laventon only gladly stoked the flames of. He would have wrung Volo’s neck himself, but he had to be long gone. Perhaps still skulking around the sea floor, out of reach of the consequences he would face for nearly killing Dawn at the hands of Galaxy Team, but not of the clans.

“She defeated Volo and the many-armed serpent, but at great cost. She’s laid up in the infirmary now. Our finest doctor is tending to her as we speak. As I have come to understand, the beast brought her to the surface as an act of atonement before absconding… I don’t know what became of Volo.”

He spit the last word. The damnable snake in the grass!

“That bloody bastard!”

Laventon couldn’t help it, barking out his frustration and ripping his hat off his head. He was shaking.

Twice.

Twice on his watch, Dawn had nearly died.

What good was he?

Laventon cleared his throat. Providing a description of the man and telling both leaders that Volo was extremely dangerous, the professor implied that no human punishment would be suitable for deeds.

“I’m sorry. I must get back to Dawn… She’s a most stubborn patient.”

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

Do you have hcs on which rogues would get tattoos + would like tattoos on a parnter?

"Tattoos" Rogue Party x Reader

We're gonna go short and sweet with this one! I'll go into detail where it's needed, etc etc.

important side note that everyone on the list would be respectful of tattoos that are tied to specific cultural practices such as Tāmoko- no matter what their feelings are about tats in general.

TW: None

Riddler

Wouldn't get a tattoo because A) he feels fairly neutral about body art and B) he'd be struck within intense indecision if he tried to get one.

Doesn't care either way about tattoos on a partner, really. The ones he would really marvel at would be geometric or bio-mechanical styles. And if you were to get a green question mark somewhere on your body, he certainly wouldn't complain...

Penguin

Wouldn't get a tattoo because it doesn't suit him, in his mind. If he had anything it would be from his juvvie days when he was more young and impulsive.

He'd vastly appreciate fine-line work or a particularly intricate design. Something else about you that's beautiful. Pulls you in and... he can lay a kiss on it.

Mad Hatter

No. Just. No.

He wouldn't dislike tattoos on a partner, but it's not his ideal. Considering there's a fair chance an s/o began as an Alice or general fantasy... well. No one's perfect, are they? If it was florals or an alice themed tattoo however... it could be a sign. Don't try making sense of his logic, you'll hurt your head.

Scarecrow

Got one when he was young. Stick and poke that the ink drained out of and now it's just a scar of crow wings on his left back shoulder. A buddy did it, Jonathan doesn't even remember the man's name.

He would really like the tattoo(s) in question if it was horror related or something to his interests. Tracing the design with his fingers during intimate moments.

Music Meister

In the nicest way someone can possibly say this, no, he's too much of a weenie. Plus, he thinks about the fact that if he ever performed a specific character on stage, he'd have to constantly cover it up and that annoys him.

Normally doesn't care a lot. If it's a theater or musical based tattoo like lyrics or elements from a poster- He'll be almost drooling over it.

Victor Zsasz

Would get tattoos. Has tattoos that he's marked over with cuts.

Would like tattoos on a partner.

Would get weird about it if you let him.

Killer Croc

Likes them, physically cannot have them. Tried once. Broke three needles before the tattooist gave up. Which... he really can't blame them on that one.

He thinks they're kind of sexy, actually. Bad-ass, you know? Especially if it's in a place that's known to be painful? Woo, sha, he knew you were tough for him.

Harley Quinn

Yes. I don't know if my Harley would have tattoos yet, but she'd be absolutely down for getting them. They'd definitely need to be color, though. She'd probably really like new school with the cute, exaggerated features.

Tell her all about them! Each one has a story, right? It's all fascinating and more she can learn about one of her favorite people.

Poison Ivy

Only if it was something "tasteful" in her mind. Elegant with perfect body placement. That's where she's at mentally. Physically... Her body will reject all ink if it's not strictly vegan and plant-based. Plus there's the fact that her skin has a green hue. It vastly limits her options and she might just give up on the idea.

If she saw a lace design or a realistic plant/flower on a partner... heart eyes, baby. She wouldn't admit to being impressed by it outright, but you'd know from the way her touch would linger there.

Two-Face

Harv would be down, Harvey would say no. He's not against tattoos themselves or anything, but he was incredibly straight-edge most of his life and that's an aspect from his past that remained. Unprofessional.

Thinks it's neat if his s/o has a tat that's either a blend of styles or deals specifically with the theme of duality. No one would ever have guessed that, I know. Otherwise, it's art on your body. Want Harv to put you in a frame for all to see? He smirks.

Black Mask

No, because of the expectations put upon him from a young age. CEO material. Can't have that. The incredible irony is in some way he still thinks of tattoos as something criminals and convicts have.

That doesn't apply to you, though, because you're his and that makes you special and different. He'd put some bank aside if you wanted another, even. Fancy appointment with the artist of your choice and everything.

Mr. Freeze

Deeply appreciative of tattoos given that his deceased wife, Nora, was an anthropologist who sometimes dabbled in the historical and cultural context of body modification and expression. He doesn't have any himself, however. However, he's read and re-read several of the textbooks she left behind on the subject. He can tell you all about it.

It might seem strange to a partner that he's sharing this interest via the lens of Nora. Understand that he loves you deeply and this is him sharing something Important to him with you. His love for Nora was so much. He insists you would have loved her, too.

Ra's al-Ghul

He does not have tattoos nor would he get them. He may have had real tribal tattoos long ago, but the strange effects of the Lazarus pit long wore them out of his skin.

Boring in that he tends to dislike non-traditional, non-cultural tattoos. Vibrant, pop in your face styles? No, thank you. He wouldn't say anything to a partner or even any particular person because that's rude. But you can tell by small side comments he'll make. The truth is, he would eventually get over himself if a partner had them. He loves you as a person, more than anything else.

Bane

Grew up in a prison, tattoos themselves are part of his culture. It was strange to him when he got out and realized there's a lot of people with no tattoos at all. Meanwhile, he had a full sleeve by the time he was 25. Debatable on the quality for some of it. Some of his older tats you can tell they were done in prison. Has some really gorgeous work on his back, though.

He would actually pay for an s/o to get a tattoo. If they wanted it! It's an art form that expresses a piece of themselves along their bodies. It's beautiful.

[bergdg]

Analyzing Invention: Jan-Aug 2024

We are now two-thirds through 2024. Each week, a new challenge has appeared as part of the Inventor's Fair, a Magic: the Gathering card design contest blog here on Tumblr.

For the uninitiated, each week, a design challenge is announced on the blog and members of the community create cards meeting the design specifications. At the end of the week, a few winners and runner-ups are selected from the submission.

So let's take a look at some of the trends so far this year - January through August.

Art. Katerina of Myra's Marvels. Illustrated by Gaboleps

The Contests

Through August, there have been 33 contests: 11 being led by @abelzumi, 10 being led by @spooky-bard, and the rest led by an assortment of judges (Note: there were 6 contest in which the judge didn't identify themselves).

Throughout these 33 contests, there have been 723 entries, spread over 110 unique participants. Of those participants, there have been 17 who have submitted at least 17 submissions (50+% participation). A special shout-out to @nine-effing-hells for their 33 submissions.

On average, there have been 22 participants per contest, with the highest being Common Wonders (30 participants) and the lowest being a tie between My Better Half, War Never* Changes and Spoiled for Choice (16 participants).

Fig. 1 - Line Graph of the Number of Entries Per Contest. Blue dots represent the number of entries for a contest, and the green line represents the 3-contest average.

The Submissions

As previously mentioned, there have been 723 unique entries (some of which had multiple designs, such as all the ones submitted for My Better Half).

In previous evaluations, we looked at all sorts of data: such as card types, mana value, and rarities. While prepping for this iteration, I asked what folks would like to see. The request: let's see some color breakdowns. So let's deep-dive!

Starting off, let's look at general color identities. If they are at least partial in the color, they'll be included here. In order:

Black: 232

Blue: 224

Red: 215

White: 211

Green: 156

Most of the colors are pretty close in the number of entries, except poor ol' green. This is the same from what we saw in the January-April update as well. (The order then was almost the exact same, with just blue and black swapping places).

The pattern is similar when we look at solely mono color entries, with Blue and Red swapping places:

Black: 91

Red: 87

Blue: 83

White: 80

Green: 55

Fig. 2 - Image of Kermit the Frog, with text saying "It's not easy bein' green".

Now let's dip into a well we haven't before: multi-color entries!

Based on our general color tendencies, you might think Dimir (blue-black) OR Rakdos (black-red) would be in the top spot. And while they do make a good showing (at #2 and #4 respectively), the top spot might surprise you:

Orzhov (W B): 35

Dimir (U B): 34

Izzet (U R): 30

Rakdos (B R): 26

Azorius (W U): 24

Boros (R W): 23

Simic (G U): 22

Gruul (R G): 20

Selesnya (G W): 16

Golgari (B G): 13

Unsurprisingly, all 4 green guilds were lowest on the list. I was surprised that Golgari was lowest though, with the general black designs being the most prominent.

For three colors, most of the 10 options are fairly close, between 3 and 5 entries each. The slight stand-out was Abzan (W B G) with 6. There has been only a single 4-color design, Atraxa's Command designed by @khyrberos (g w u b), and four 5-color designs.

There have also been 35 colorless cards designed. I'll give a note here on lands - since we are looking a color identity and not mana cost, many lands are in a color bucket, not just here in colorless land.

Well, that about sums things up for this time around. It's always cool to see everyone's submissions each week as part of the @inventors-fair! Y'all are awesome, and I can't wait to see what designs you come up with through the end of the year. And maybe, just maybe, think about adding some green :).

[lisbeth-kk]

May Prompts

Today's prompt: hobby

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 8)

Summary: A rebuke turns into something Rosie had only dared to hope for.

Eight Years Old

Dad and Papa, well, to be fair, mostly Dad, had a stern talk with me in the aftermath of my performance in the school play where I told the tale of The Tipsy Burglar that occurred a half year earlier. I had kept it a secret from them, which I knew was a bit not good, but I thought they’d be pleased that I put Papa in the spotlight of that particular case, even if he was nowhere near London at the time. It turned out they weren’t.

“Your choice of title is…” Papa began.

“Sherlock,” Dad said in a tone that told both Papa and me that this was not the time for humour.

Dad cleared his throat and began his lecture, asking me to keep quiet until he was finished.

“We both appreciate that you love speaking about us and dramatize a little about Papa’s work.”

He sent a warning glare in Papa’s direction when he wanted to protest that it wasn’t just Papa’s work, but Dad’s too, when he wasn’t at his actual job as a doctor.

“What we don’t fancy, is your changed personality of late. You’ve become cocky, using Papa’s fame to your benefit, to become a more interesting person, and that is just not on. You should be proud of who you are. In the long run, you’ll end up with no audience or true friends if you continue down this road. It is you who matter, not who your family is, alright?”

Dad looked pointedly at me to see if I understood what he was trying to convey. I nodded.

“Good. We have a proposition for you. It has come up earlier as well, but back then we thought you were too young for this hobby, or…”

I couldn’t keep my mouth shut any longer, because those last words could only mean one thing.

“You mean martial arts?” I asked hopefully.

A deep chuckle from Papa confirmed my deduction, and I threw myself into Dad’s arms.

“I promise I’ll be good, and I won’t be such a…”

“Alright, best not finish that sentence,” Dad said mock serious.

***

Both my fathers had experience in this area. Sort of, anyway. Papa from fencing, Dad from rugby and the combat training when he was in the army.

I was euphoric by the prospect, but still a bit irked after the rebuke, so when two options were suggested, I obviously chose a third one.

“Taekwondo or kickboxing?” Papa asked expectantly.

“Neither,” I said defiantly, but regretted my tone immediately when Dad spoke my name in thatvoice.

“Watson,” Papa prompted, his tone also a bit harsh.

“Sorry,” I said. “Jiu jitsu. Please, let me.”

“I think that can be arranged,” Dad said. “You’ll learn self-defence, respect and humbleness as well as self-esteem. Not sure you need more of the latter, though.”

That elicited another chuckle from Papa. Dad turned to him, cocking an eyebrow, but the mirth on his face ruined is effort to look disapproving.

***

A week later, my martial art career started. Papa had wanted to fully equip me with the correct clothes, mouthguard, gloves and shin guards, but Dad suggested that we postponed the shopping spree until we were certain what was required. The web site had said that I only needed to show up in whatever clothes I found comfortable, so I chose tights and a t-shirt in a breathing material.

When we arrived in the dojo, I learned to bow every time I entered and departed. A sign of respect for the room where the training was executed. 

“No socks,” the trainer told us when several of the children skidded around on the mats.

The trainer wore a crisp white costume, called a Gi, and her black belt had three golden stripes, her name, and Japanese signs embroidered on it.

“I am Sensei Ida. Inside this dojo, you’ll address me as Sensei. Understood?”

“Yes, Sensei,” we said in more or less unison.

When the session was over, we promised our Sensei, that we would keep it up until we attained the black belt. Only two of us were successful at keeping that promise.

Also available on AO3

Tags in the replies.

[noturlondonboy]

No More Excuses//Katelena

Chapter 9: When It Rears Its Ugly Head

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova

Chapter Summary: The girls go see a movie and then head to a bar to just relax and enjoy each other’s company, but trouble arises when a toxic face from Kate’s past shows up.

A/N: I hope you hate this man as much as I do.

Chapter Warnings: alcohol, men being assholes, harassment, PTSD, trauma

Kate lets Yelena pick the movie when they shuffle into the first theater they can find, which happens to be small and vintage and ultimately adorable. She goes over the options for a small moment before excitedly beckoning to the reruns of Howl's Moving Castle, and Kate lights up with a grin at her decision. They get ridiculously cheap candy from the snack counter and scurry down the hallway.

Apparently Howl's Moving Castle had been on a list of Yelena's of things to watch because of her intermittent internet browsing, and Kate made a mental note to properly introduce her to Studio Ghibli later on.

The movie is an instant hit with Yelena, of course, who is so enthralled with the gorgeous art style and music that she doesn't even remember to touch the Reese's Pieces Kate convinced her to try. Here and there she mutters her thoughts, commenting on how sad it was that Sophie thought so little of herself, how much she adored Calcipher, how she thought that the rings were the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

Kate probably didn't pay as much attention to the movie as she should have, but to be fair, she had seen it a million times and knew most of the lines anyway. She really only had eyes for Yelena; the way her nose scrunched when she smiled, the honey curls loose around her neck, the way the deep, sticky red of her lipstick moved with her mouth when she laughed and when she cried.

By the end of the movie, Yelena looks as if she's gone through the five stages of grief. Her cheeks are flushed and the tears, both genuine and from laughing, have smudged the corner of her eye makeup, which in Kate's opinion, only enhances it. The assassin is chatting Kate's ear off, who has to admit that her energy is the most addictive drug she's ever come in contact with.

"Kate Bishop!" Yelena yells for the millionth time as soon as they're outside the theater, hands grabbing her friend's arms and almost shaking her. "That was beautiful!" She bursts into a stream of excited rapid-fire Russian, her accent so thick that Kate thinks she could wrap herself in it and snuggle down for a night of listening to Yelena talk.

Yelena suddenly squeals and throws her arms around Kate's waist, lifting the archer off of her feet and spinning her around. "Kate Bishop, thank you thank you thank you!" She presses her lips to both of Kate's cheeks in swift kisses, her laughter and smile so contagious that Kate can't help but laugh along, even though her face is burning and her stomach is doing unsanctioned flips.

"Why are you thanking me?" Kate asks, her grin so wide her cheeks start to ache. She is still in Yelena's arms, the assassins grip strong and sure and oh-so warm. "You're the one who paid for the movie, Yelena."

"Yes, but I would not have ever gone to see it without you!" Yelena lets go of Kate to place her hands over her heart with a wistful sigh, her eyes closing. "Oh, Kate Bishop, I loved it so much."

Kate's heart is thudding against her chest, but she pushes it down and takes the blonde's hand. "I'm glad," she says softly.

Yelena's lips curl up at the corners, and the snow is still falling lightly out on the cold New York streets, a few flakes sticking to her dark lashes. "Me too."

There's another moment, then. Right there, just the two of them. Yelena knows, and is less afraid than she was even three hours ago, but it is heavy in her chest and she doesn't know if she can take the weight yet.

"Time for drinks, Kate Bishop?" she says coyly, raising an eyebrow. The air is crisp and wonderful in her lungs when she takes a deep breath, and it eases the squeeze on her heart.

Kate's grin is blinding, and she nods. "Absolutely."

--------

They end up walking until they find a cozy looking bar, and Kate holds the door open for Yelena before following in behind her. They are immediately enveloped in music that is somehow both quiet and loud but I still rather pleasant, the aroma of coffee and alcohol mixing together, and the glow from several assorted colors of fairy lights strung up in just about every inch of the place.

Kate whistles lowly, taking it in on a slow circle. "How have I never been to this place before now?" she mutters, finding herself falling in love with the establishment immediately. It's all one big, open space, with the bar against the back wall, each side wall full of different booths, tables, and variously decorated seating areas, and the rest of the floor appears to be where the dancing happens.

There seems to be only about two dozen people dancing, and only a couple of them are hammered enough to be throwing limbs around and grinding on each other. The rest are either slow dancing with their respective partner or friend, or letting themselves loosen up.

Yelena's grin is feral as she takes it all in, and when her eyes light upon Kate after a moment, the glow in them intensifies. The archer swallows, knowing her face is hot but not being able to do much about it.

"Hi there, ladies!" A deep voice calls out from somewhere to their right, and a tall, friendly looking man wearing entirely black with a safety vest appears from the crowd, walking towards them. "So sorry I didn't catch you at the door, but I'm the bouncer. Can I see some ID?"

Kate smiles apologetically and nods, digging through her wallet before handing her ID over. The guy looks it over for a moment and gives it back, then turns to Yelena. "And you, ma'am?"

Yelena doesn't move, and her voice is dry. "I called ahead. Fanny Longbottom."

Kate doesn't know how she keeps herself from choking on her own spit and laughing so hard she shits herself, but the bouncer looks over a list on his phone and confirms a few numbers with Yelena before letting them know they're good to go.

Yelena looks at Kate and notices the way she's barely holding herself together, and the assassin rolls her eyes. "Don't," she says in warning, her face grave but tone light. Kate wisely keeps her mouth shut.

They make their way to a booth where they have a clear view of the bar, dance floor, and both exits; Yelena tells Kate to sit while she grabs them drinks.

The archer settles into the booth and admires the leather upholstery, which is in much better shape than you would expect from a New York bar.  The hanging light above the table is a warm orange, and Kate leans further into the cushion, looking forward to the rest of night.

That is, of course, until a figure appeared in front of the table, much too tall and masculine to be her Yelena.

"Hey there, Baby Girl."

Kate feels her stomach blanch, and she does her best to keep the anger from showing through her face as she slowly turns to face the man who spoke. He was tall and lean and had short cropped hair, and Kate could barely stop herself from kicking him between the legs.

"Connor." She grit her teeth tightly and sat up tall, not bothering to make her face look pleasant. "I hope you remember I still have a restraining order against you."

Connor laughs and dares to sit in the booth seat across from her, leaning back and folding his arms across his chest. In hindsight, Connor looks completely harmless. He's wearing a simple blue henley shirt and converse, his hair is well kept, and his smile is dorky. But his eyes hold a gleam that Kate had managed to forget, and seeing it light upon her again has her blood boiling.

"I figured since your MILF of a mommy is in prison, I might try to say hi again." He leans forward, his elbows bracing on the table as he gives a wink. "Without any money to pay the police, how are you supposed to keep a restraining order in the first place?"

Her tone is cold and sharp, and she knows he can see the fire in her eyes. The jab at Eleanor simmers in the back of her mind, and Kate pictures getting to throw him into a wall. "I'm still rich as hell, Connor, and I have more money than you'll ever make in a lifetime. Leave before I call my security in and get you arrested." Kate didn't have official security, but she knew Yelena could chop this man into pieces without breaking a sweat.

For a moment, he looks enraged at the comment on his financial situation, but Connor only laughs, and his lips twist into a cruel smirk. "Girly, we both know you don't have security." He's staring into her, gaze challenging and rotted, like he's trying to tear down her defenses and scare her into submission.

"Leave," she hisses, body shaking with the anger she wants to hit him with. It had been so long since she felt this way. So upset that she could burn the world down with it. So afraid she might kill someone in her frenzy.

"No." His answer is simple, and Kate feels her heart fall with a thud. She recalls the feel of his hands on her wrists, his words mocking and laughing when she tries to get away. He was detained before he could seriously hurt her, but she remembers.

Yelena appears, a full shot glass in both hands, her face stone cold and murderous. "Who the fuck are you?"

Translations: none

Kate Bishop counter: 4

This chapter's meme:

Comments/reblogs/notes make my day :)

[chained-to-the-mirror]

POLL ABOUT PATREON BENEFIT CHANGES

So, currently my Patreon has three tiers. Lowest tier is 1 euro per month, and that's just for general support. The mid tier is 5 euros, and it includes a free prompt each month. The highest tier is 10 euros, and in addition to the prompt it also gets you a postcard (blank) each month (I send them in batches of three).

Truth is - the prompts are getting to be too much for me. I only have a few patrons, but the pressure of having to gather the spoons to draw on command every month is a bit overwhelming. Also, the price is very low for what is essentially close to a commission each month. I thought it was fair when I was more able to produce art, but unfortunately things have changed at least for now.

To get to the point: I am thinking about changing the benefits as follows:

Lowest tier: no change.

Mid tier: instead of the prompt, an entry in a lottery where one person each month wins either a new original art or an older art from the BBC Sherlock or Good Omens fandoms. Same 5 e price as before.

Highest tier: The prompt and postcard as usual, but in addition an entry to the lottery as well. The price would be increased to possibly 12 euros.

I'm letting the poll run for a week but I might make the change over the weekend already. Please reblog so others can see!

[barbex]

Heyo and happy Friday! 😊 For DADWC, might I request #6 from the We're A Throuple! Prompt list, for Fenris/Anders/author's choice? (maybe Merrill? Or anyone really! I'm not picky lol)

Oh, this was a fun prompt, thank you! For @dadrunkwriting, poly fic with Merrill x Fenris x Anders.

I still don't know how to write short ficlets, there's like worldbuilding in this, 1200 words. 😊😊

---

“It’s going to be a great party, we should wear matching dresses,” Merrill says, her arms linked with both of them. “At least colour coordinated. I wear that green dress with the long green blouse, and you,” she looks at Anders, “don’t you have a similar blouse or coat like that?”

“Yes, I do, I’d just need some matching trousers.” He looks past Fenris, wondering if he ever saw him in anything other than black. “Do you have anything in green?”

“No.” 

His face darkens with a frown and Anders knows him well enough to see that this is something they will talk about at home, where Fenris feels safe. Merrill throws him a look, seeing the same thing. They keep walking, Merrill relaying a story the flower girls told her about a family in their street, a delicious piece of gossip Anders loves to hear. Fenris stays silent, but he still holds on to Merrill’s hand and his frown has smoothed out. 

This is alright.

Anders opens the door to their small town house, a lovely place in need of constant repairs, filled with flowerpots, colourful art and sculptures. Colours and chaos everywhere, and they all love it. Even Fenris, who does like things to be more orderly than Merrill and Anders, usually only complains about half empty tea cups with mould growing on them. As long as they don’t touch his paints and don’t move his easel, he enjoys being in the chaos with them. 

With their shopping put away, Merrill looks at Anders, asking without words, and he nods. 

“Alright, Fenris,” Merrill says cheerfully, “let’s see if we can find anything matching in your closet.” She takes his hand and pulls him up the stairs with her. He follows with little resistance, but Anders watches him carefully as he follows them. There are certain things Fenris is less open about, and his personal room and things are part of his careful boundaries. 

But Merrill has a keen sense for how much she can push Fenris out of his comfort zone, smiling at him as they step into his room. “Well, let’s see what you have.”

Fenris opens the doors to the wardrobe and steps aside. “Nothing green, as I said.”

There are a few shelves and a bar for hanging things and everything, every single piece of fabric is black. 

“No wonder I have never seen you in anything but your black leather trousers,” Merrill says.

“I like what I like,” Fenris says.

Anders steps closer to him, brushing his nose against his ear. “And they look amazing on you.”

Merrill smiles at Fenris’ blush, kneading her lips as she’s thinking. “If we want to make things different for this party, maybe you should wear my dresses?” 

“Would any of yours even fit?” Anders looks from Merrill to himself. It’s not that he’s fat, but compared to Merrill, even Fenris looks too large.

“I have wraparounds, they’ll work.” She bounces off to her room, and Anders and Fenris follow. 

“Are you alright with wearing a dress?” Anders asks him. 

Fenris looks up at him with a small smile. “I reserve the right to refuse if I look ridiculous.”

“Fair enough. Although, I can’t imagine anything not looking good on you.” He slides his hand over Fenris’ back, gently, giving him the option to step away from it. But he doesn’t, leaning closer instead. This is a win in their careful relationship. 

Boundaries. Finding the boundaries for all three of them and respecting them is what makes them work. 

Chaos reigns in Merrill’s room, of course. She’s already spread half of the contents of her wardrobe around the room, picking through flowing fabrics in various shades of green. It’s her favourite colour, obviously.

“Here, Anders, this will fit you,” she says, holding out a large swath of fabric. “And this one is for you, Fenris.” She steps closer to him with a green dress. “May I help you put it on?”

Fenris lowers his head, brushing his nose over her temple. “Yes.” 

Anders takes off his shirt and trousers to wrap the fabric around himself, but he forgets about it when Fenris undresses and Merrill begins to arrange the dress around his nearly naked body. Merrill also wears hardly anything, and watching them both is like watching beauty personified. 

Merrill wraps the fabric around Fenris’ waist and suddenly it looks like a proper dress. She steps back to look at her creation, picking at a seam and a fold here and there. “You look so pretty, vhenan.”

Taking her hand, Fenris pulls her close, kissing her. “Thank you, amata.” He brushes through her hair and presses a kiss on her forehead. “We may have to do something about Anders.”

Merrill turns her head with a giggle. “He’s staring. I think we broke him.”

Anders lets the fabric slip over his arm. “My loves, I need a little help.”

Merrill bounces over to him, taking the dress and begins to drape it over his body. Of course, Fenris has already figured out how all this drapery works, and helps Merrill. Occasionally he slides his hand under the fabric and caresses Anders’ skin, while Merrill presses very close to him. It’s enough to drive a person out of their mind.

“My loves...” Anders groans. Fenris kisses his neck, he must be standing on his tiptoes. And Anders just wants to melt. 

“I have an idea,” Merrill says, skipping out of the door. “I’ll be right back.”

With a breath, Anders turns, pulling Fenris into his arms. The green fabric looks amazing on him and it’s so soft under his hands. He bends to kiss Fenris’ neck. “Do you like the dress?”

“It’s surprisingly comfortable,” Fenris says, his voice quite more breathy than usually. His hips press against Anders’, thin and soft fabric all that is between them. “I may have to rip this dress off your body soon,” Fenris growls.

That deep growl does terrible things to Anders’ self control. He slides his hands between the folds of the dress, probably ruining the whole arrangement. 

“I think that should wait, my vhenans,” comes Merrill’s voice from the door. She sounds quite different and when Anders turns to look at her, his knees go weak.

Merrill wears one of Fenris’ black leather trousers, a black leather west, and even slim boots with heels. The only green on her is a cape swinging over her back. “I thought if you wear my clothes, I could wear your clothes.”

“Fuck, you look so hot.” Anders takes two steps to her and goes down on one knee. “You are a goddess.”

Appearing at his side, Fenris doesn’t go down on his knee, but the admiration is clear on his face. He puts a hand on Anders’ shoulder. “And we are your devoted worshippers.” 

“Really?” Merrill giggles, but then her eyes sparkle. “I think I like that.” She steps closer, appearing more confident with every step. “I’m not putting a leash on my worshippers,” she glances at Fenris and winks. “But I would love it if my worshippers stayed close to me.”

“We will,” Anders hurries to say, warm excitement flooding his body.

Fenris bows to take Merrill’s hand and presses a kiss on the back of it. “Anything you want, amata.”

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” Merrill calls out.

Anders looks at Fenris, seeing him smile. Yes, it will be a fun evening, and much more.