#transformers role playing game

[thiccremoch]

Thinking about how easy the core card system of Daggerheart can be modified to fit other settings or IP. The main thing I was thinking about was a version of Daggerheart for a Transformers game where the players are cybertronians. Heritage would be altered to have community as the faction (Autobot, Decepticon, Maximal, Predicon, Junkeon, etc.) where ancestry would be the type of alt-mode you have access to. I was also thinking your alt-mode card would have the recall symbol from domain cards, but it would represent the stress cost to shift from robot to alt-mode (using Faction card to using Alt-Mode card).

But yeah, just a thought I had. Super excited to see what fan content and 3rd party content based on Daggerheart gets made since the game looks super easy to mold and build to fit however you want it to manifest!

[thatfantasylovingdork]

Me: *does my first transformers role playing game*

Me: *makes a joke about making Starscream my boyfriend*

Me: *Actually gains Starscream’s trust in the game*

Me: wtf I guess I wasn’t joking

[bethanythebogwitch]

The Magical Girl TTRPG about fighting despair

Princess: the Hopeful is a tabletop roleplaying game in which players take the role of magical girls acting as the guardians of hope and light in a world of darkness and despair. And before I can really talk about it, I need to give some backstory. Princess: the Hopeful is a fan-made game for Chronicles of Darkness AKA the New World of Darkness. Chronicles of Darkness is a line of TTRPGS in which players take on the roles of monsters hiding amongst humanity. Each game has you play a different kind of monster, so there’s a vampire game, a werewolf game, etc. While each game can be played independently of any other, they are all in the same setting and they all use the same core rules. This is intended to make crossovers easy, but it also means that fans can pretty easily homebrew their own content, up to and including entire games. CoD is a pretty dark setting where the shadows run deep, humans are prey to monsters we don’t understand, and hope is vanishingly rare. So when a group of fans decided to make a magical girl game for the setting, it seemed like a joke. However, the finished project has become one of the most popular fan games and is just as good if not better than many of the official games (cough Beast cough). While the world of Princess: the Hopeful is as grim and bleak as the rest of CoD, you play as the people who refuse to give in to despair and fight to make the world a better place and you are going to dress fantastically to do it. 

In the setting of Princess: the Hopeful, the ultimate force of evil is the All-Consuming Darkness. Born of fear, hate, despair, and every other negative aspect of life, the Darkness is less an entity and more a cosmic force of corruption that will not stop until the world is dragged into an eternal hell. When the Darkness first threatened the world, agents of light rose up to stop it. They wielded powerful magic and formed a civilization called the Kingdom which opposed the Darkness. And they won. The Darkness was beaten back and the Kingdom was at peace. This peace made them complacent and they failed to notice the Darkness building a counterattack until it was too late. The Darkness overwhelmed the Kingdom and destroyed many of queens and their courts. Of the 8 surviving courts, 5 were trapped within the Dreamlands, a dimension formed from the dreams and desires of humanity. This prison was perfect as the desires of its prisoners led them to not even realizing they were trapped. They lived in a fantasy of the world at peace, never realizing their predicament. The 3 remaining courts survived by becoming darkened. The corruption of the Darkness is found in them, but they are not its servants and are therefore known as the Twilight Courts. With the courts either trapped or corrupted, the Darkness had free reign over the world and turned it into the grimdark setting of Chronicles of Darkness. That was until 1969, when the first moon landing set off such a powerful surge of wonder and hope worldwide that it pierced the Dreamlands and alerted the imprisoned courts to the truth. The 5 imprisoned courts, the Radiant Courts, destroyed the prison and turned the Dreamlands into their new base of operations. They now face a world where the Darkness has effectively won. This hasn’t stopped the Radiant Courts and they have now resumed the war with the Darkness. Whether this war is an ultimately futile struggle or if the Radiant Courts do have a chance at actually turning things around is up to the players. 

The player characters of PtH are the Nobility. Nobles, also called Princesses/Princes or the Hopeful, start out as people who remain good and hopeful despite living in a darkened world. The potential to become a Noble will remain as long as that person remains good, but it takes a major event to unlock it. This event must be something life-changing and can happen at any time in someone’s life, though it usually happens during, and as a result of, puberty. The person will go through the Blossoming and awaken the power of a Noble. While the game focuses on magical girl tropes, anyone of any gender and sex can become a Noble. Nobles gain a number of powers, including the ability to perform magic. However, most of their powers require them to go through the classic magical girl transformation sequence. After transforming, a Noble’s body will change to represent their idealized self and they will be wearing clothes and tools called Regalia. The idealized self can be quite different from your normal appearance and the game explicitly states that a transgender noble’s transformed appearance will match their gender identity. The transformed state also acts as a magical disguise. Even if a Noble looks identical pre- and post- transformation, you won’t be able to recognize the two forms as the same person unless the Noble tells you. A noble can only stay transformed temporarily before needing to change back and rest. Nobles get access to magic spells, most of which can only be used while transformed. Casting spells requires spending wisps, which are gained by inspiring happiness and goodness in others. In both forms, Nobles have a 6th sense which detects dark acts and thoughts. If someone is depressed or does something evil, every Noble in range will know about it. Given the state of the world, this 6th sense can become overwhelming and many Nobles will take trips to the Dreamlands to get some relief for a while. Nobles can also grant people some of their powers. These people are known as Sworn and many Nobles will grant powers to people they trust as allies or people they love as protection. Nobles are also often aided by Shikigami, inhabitants of the Drealands who inhabit small animals or toys to enter the real world and who act as mentors and advisors. Shikigami are good at tracking down potential Nobles and helping them Blossom, making them the magical girl mascot trope. 

Fighting the Darkness is not just about battling monsters. While every Noble will eventually have to do battle with soul-sucking horrors from the netherrealms, most of the fight isn’t about violence. Anything that causes negativity is a tool of the darkness and you can’t exactly kick poverty or discrimination in the face. However, just as any negative emotion or cruel act empowers the Darkness, any act of kindness or that sparks joy fights it. Each Noble has a particular specialty called their Calling that determines how they inspire hope and joy the best. The callings are:

Champions: the defenders of the weak. Champions are classic heroes who fight for justice and protect others. They gain wisps by standing up for others. Champions are the most combat-oriented of the Callings and are typically the ones who do the fighting when creatures of Darkness are about. Example Champions include a knight who charges out to face the monsters, an activist pushing to end poverty, the manager of a shelter for the homeless, or the kid who stands up to bullies. 

Graces: the messengers of hope. Graces prefer to guide others to the light through communication and support. Graces are skilled at social interaction and gain magic that lets them power up other people. They gain wisps by giving support and advice. Example Graces include a motivational speaker whose speeches are charmed with magic, a therapist who encourages patients to improve themselves, the person who always gives good advice, and the friend who is always ready to offer a shoulder to lean on. 

Menders: the healers of the wounded. Menders aid people who are suffering, be it physically, mentally, or supernaturally. Menders will give aid to anyone they can and will not engage in violence, except against creatures of Darkness. Their magic focuses on healing and supporting others. They gain wisps by helping people. Example Menders include a first responder for disasters, an emergency room doctor who will stop at nothing to heal patients, a counselor who helps people fight depression, and a hero who helps people reject the corruption of Darkness. 

Seekers: the scholars of the light. Seekers are defined by their curiosity and devotion to uncovering the truth. Lies and ignorance are tools of the Darkness and Seekers are here to uncover the truth. Their magic focuses on stealth and information gathering. They gain wisps by learning new things. Example Seekers include a bookworm who spends all their free time in the library, a spy who gathers intel on the Darkness’ activities, an archeologist who seeks out ancient artifacts of the Nobility, and a scientist who tries to reconcile the supernatural world with the scientific one. 

Troubadours: the muses of joy. Troubadours seek to inspire wonder and joy in other people through their works. Natural artists and storytellers, troubadours gain wisps by inspiring others. Their magic focuses on illusions and supporting others. Example Troubadours include a party animal who always has a story to tell, a children’s book author whose work always includes positive morals, a graffiti artist who leaves messages of hope around town, an inspiring speaker who encourages people to fight the Darkness, and a jokester who can always make people laugh. 

Noble society is centered around the courts. Each court is an alliance of like-minded Nobles led by a queen. Queens are immensely powerful and ancient Nobles who date back to before the imprisonment in the Dreamlands. There are 5 Radiant Courts and 3 Twilight Courts. A Noble’s Calling is innate to them and cannot be chanced, but membership in a court is optional and switching between them is accepted (by the Radiants anyway). Some people opt to remain courtless. Each court has a signature emotion or two that powers their unique magic. The Radiant Courts are:

The Court of Clubs practices a pseudo-Taoist philosophy of finding the balance where you can express your truest self while remaining in balance with the world. Accepting change and avoiding violence are part of this harmony. Don’t assume this means Clubs are helpless against attack. They aren’t allowed to start a fight, but they are allowed to finish it. Harmony with nature is also an important part of their beliefs and many Clubs prefer to live in the natural world and protect nature from the Darkness. Their emotions are harmony and tranquility.

The Court of Diamonds embraces enlightenment ideals and believes in the power of logic and reason to improve the world. They embrace modern science and technology and reject ignorance and misinformation as tools of the Darkness. Key among their teachings is that knowledge is to be shared freely with everyone, nor hoarded away or locked behind paywalls. They also reject the divide between the arts and sciences, seeing both as equally important. Diamonds tend to be excellent planners and strategists. Their emotions are curiosity and wonder.

The Court of Hearts is the one that takes the title of Nobility most seriously. They believe that the key to a better world is building and improving social institutions with them as the strong leaders. While Hearts view themselves as natural leaders, they also believe that authority is not owed, it is earned through the respect of others. They practice noblesse oblige, the philosophy that those in charge have a duty to improve the lives of their subjects and to be a wise and fair leader. The Hearts also take tradition seriously, believing that you must preserve the traditions that work and discard or improve those who do not. Their emotions are trust and duty.

The Court of Spades encourages creativity, going outside norms, and humor. Their skill is in questioning traditions and social institutions to find out what is valuable and what isn’t. Those institutions that cause harm are tools of the Darkness and should be dismantled. Above all, everyone needs some laughter in their life and so the Spades are great pranksters and jokesters. Many other courts stereotype the Spades as ineffective and annoying pranksters, but their skill at thinking outside the box can make them highly effective at finding new and unorthodox solutions to problems. Their emotion is humor. 

The Court of Swords believes in following your heart and doing everything with burning passion. Love is the most important emotion to them, and not just romantic love but all kinds. They follow a morality code that emphasizes that harming someone is always wrong and that you should strive to broaden your horizons and embrace your passions. Many Swords are classic heroes, striving out for the sake of goodness and willing to do anything to protect their loved ones. The Swords also trust their members to be able to act autonomously, though of course if you can work with others, you should at least consider it. Their emotion is love. 

While the Radiant Courts have only been active in the real world since 1969, the Twilight Courts have been active since the fall of the Kingdom. In order to survive the Darkness, they had to become darkened. While each Twilight Court is affected by the Darkness, they are still its enemies and do not serve it. Because they have been active for so much longer, the Twilight Courts have much greater populations than the Radiant Courts. If the Radiant Courts are the classic magical girls, the Twilight Courts are the dark magical girls. 

The Court of Tears survived the coming of the Darkness by fleeing into it. The Queen of Tears moved her city, Alhambra, into the Dark World and converted it into a hollow sphere, with the city on the inside. The city is lit by lamps that keep the Darkness out, but they are fueled by hope. Nobles of Tears are tasked with stealing hope from the real world to keep the lamps burning. Key to their beliefs is that the Darkness has already won and all they can do is keep their loved ones safe in Alhambra. Thus, they will do whatever they can to keep the lamps burning. Their mission is ultimately futile as they are helping the Darkness win and once it does, nothing will keep Alhambra safe. The Queen of Tears constantly weeps over the sacrifices she made and it is implied that if she ever realizes the self-defeating nature of her mission, she will fully fall into despair and become an agent of the Darkness. Their signature emotions are depression and resolve. 

The Court of Storms barely functions as a court anymore as their queen is not capable of leading anymore. To survive the Darkness, the Queen of Storms transformed herself into a living storm that rages within the Dark World, destroying all she touches. Nobles of Storms lash out against the Darkness in rage. They hate the Darkness and the state of the world and that hate leads them to do whatever they can to destroy it no matter who and what gets in the way. They believe that the world is already hopelessly corrupted and the only way out is to turn it to ashes and hope that whatever’s left is worth saving. Storms Nobles believe that when they die, their souls will merge with the storm that is the Queen and make it a bit bigger. Once enough of them die the Queen will grow enough to destroy the Darkness and rip the world apart. If there’s something left to rebuild after, that’s a nice bonus. Their emotions are rage and hate. 

The Court of Mirrors isn’t a court in any sense of the word. The Queen of Mirrors fled when the Darkness came. SInce then, she has appeared to newly-Blossomed Nobles and informed them that they are the True Heir to the Kingdom and destined to be the one who defeats the Darkness and saves the world. Given how many people she does this to, her approach seems to be that if she tries enough times, eventually she’ll find the right person. Nobles of Mirrors become utterly convinced that they are the heroes of the story. They are vain, narcissistic solipsists convinced the world revolves around them. Most other Nobles view the Mirrors as obnoxious brats, but a narcissist with magic powers can prove to be a formidable threat. The Mirrors are incapable of working together and tend to fight each other when they meet. There can only be one True Heir after all. Their emotions are selfishness and solipsism. 

The Darkness is a subtle and insidious force that operates wherever there is violence, hate, or misery. Places of sadness or where atrocities have been committed become tainted areas, where the influence of the Darkness is more pronounced. Tainted areas are more prone to violence, depression, and bigotry. The people who spend time there are also more likely to become Darkened. A Darkened person has the influence of the Darkness influencing their mind and body. It changes their sense of morality to encourage them to engage in immoral acts. Unlike other creatures of the Darkness, Darkened are redeemable. They can resist their malevolent urges and strive to be a good person. Nobles are charged with helping Darkened redeem themselves and can use magic to help purify their corruption. Darkened who are not redeemed turn into one of two types of monsters. The most common result is a Darkspawn. When a Darkened fully gives into the Darkness, they will die and their body (or part of it) will revive as a twisted monster. Darkspawn have no real intelligence, but there are an incredible variety of them and they are very dangerous. When a Darkened uses the Darkness to corrupt their minds rather than warp their bodies, they will become a Mnemosyne. These monsters still look human and remember their past lives. They are also highly intelligent, allowing them to command Darkspawn and scheme to spread the Darkness and corrupt other people. Another dark creature is a Cataphract, who are born from people who die in despair (often through suicide). They retain the memories of their human lives and will attempt to return to them, but are only capable of being twisted parodies of humanity. Probably the most feared creatures of Darkness are the Dethroned, Nobles who lost hope and turned to the Darkness. Dethroned usually spend their time wallowing in their own misery, only occasionally roused into action by other dark creatures. An active Dethroned is an enormous threat and even other dark creatures fear them. Even killing a Dethroned won’t save them as they will simply be reborn. There are only two ways to destroy one: utterly destroying their soul at the cost of your own, and taking their misery onto yourself and working through it, allowing the Dethroned to feel hope again before dying and being reincarnated. 

There are a few versions of the game, which can be downloaded here, along with supplements and fan content. There is a Discord server also linked on that page. You will need the Chronicles of Darkness core rules to play.

[dragonanon]

Playing Cassette Beasts for the first time like: “What kinda Ben 10 shit is this??”

[lion-rye]

No way they did my boy this dirty

[pondsmithart]

Meet SolarFlare a original character from a game I run on Saturday nights, she is played by my dear friend Brynn.

Please follow me on patreon for early releases and other perks!

[freak-accident419]

knockin' on heaven's door

Rhett Abbott x Reader

Summary: The day after an intense, drunken argument with each other, you decided to cool down with Rhett by the lake to talk things out the proper way. As you both dwell on the time you first met, you finally confront the unspoken thing between you two. (Rhett Abbott x GN!Reader)

Word Count: 3.1k

Content: 18+ SMUT, MDNI, gender-neutral reader, no use of Y/n, no pronouns for reader, no specific genitals mentioned for reader, penetration, oral (reader receiving), reader is implied to be a musician, sex by the lake pretty much, so public sex?, friends to lovers, your dogs are little shits (some silliness)

A/n: if you’re new to this account, hello! I strive to write gender-neutral reader fanfics to encourage the use of gender neutral language, usage, and pronouns in xReader fics! Inclusivity is important, especially in the year 2025 <3 having said that, I would love to use my platform to show it is possible to write in fics where gender does not play any (significant) role. Happy reading <33 reblogs and likes are much appreciated :)

Taglist: @pearlstiare @gryffindorquid-ditchcap-blog

-

A heavy sigh left your lips as you shut your eyes softly, the gentle wind blowing towards your skin and the nearby trees. You felt grounded through your slow breaths, sitting above a cloth blanket that separated yourself from the muck surface. You've never felt such tranquility and peace in a long time.

Instantly, however, you were brought back to the earth, feeling an object fall lightly onto your knee. In your cross-legged position, your eyes shot open, finding that the object was a stick that your dog had dropped to continue his exhilarating game of fetch. Huffing, you grabbed the slender trunk and threw it in the water to entertain him, watching him sprint towards it after.

Last night was exhausting. It shouldn't have even happened, but it just did.

You got into a stupid argument with your close friend, Rhett. You knew him for several years, as he was one of the first people you met when you moved to Amelia County, and yet you still couldn't get used to his daunting idiocy. He was even more stupid when drunk, which he had been the previous evening. The verbal fight ended bitterly, as you gave up on explaining yourself, feeling burnt out.

You felt like you needed a break from everything, which impelled you to find solace in nature. You could tell that Rhett needed it too. Therefore, you casually proposed this idea, also prompted to bring your dog, Leo, and Rhett's dog, Stu. Those two mutts somehow got along with each other more than you and him would.

The sky was slowly transforming into a muddy blue as you two had only just arrived at the lake by dusk. Moments passed by then, but the two of you barely spoke to each other since you first got here; just silently setting up the blanket and beers, engaging with the dogs, and lighting cigarettes.

He still sat beside you, though. He wasn't angry with you, but neither were you angry with him.

After taking a mellow drag of his cigarette, Rhett extinguished the silence with his western twang. "I'm sorry," he mutters, exhaling the misty smoke.

Your ears perk up at the sound of his apology, turning your head to look at him. His eyes never looked at yours yet, as they remained onto the glassy lake.

Stubbornly, you asked, "for what?"

Rhett shook his head. "You know what."

He finally turned his head to face you, his soft, dark eyes looking into yours. "I was being a drunk asshole last night," he elaborated shamefully. "I shouldn't've snapped at you like that. It was unnecessary."

You couldn't muster up the courage to prolong the eye contact with him, looking down as you knew you were guilty too.

"Well, I just made things worse," you sigh, throwing the stick again once Leo fetched it. "I knew it would've upset you, but I kept rambling on anyway."

"Yeah, but I shouldn't have brought it up in the first place," he reasons, rubbing his forehead.

"Okay, but you were drunk, so I only elevated things by arguing back instead of being mature."

Rhett suddenly scoffs with a grin of levity. "Well, would you look at that?” He comments instantly, “We seem to be arguin' with each other once again.” You two looked at each other for a split second before chuckling it off, smiling at the issue rather than scowling.

His dog, Stu, moved to lay down beside you on the blanket. Your palm met his smooth, fluffy coat, petting him idly.

"To be honest," you huff under your breath, "I totally forgot what we were arguing about last night."

Rhett snickers, amused by your confession. "At least I have an excuse for not remembering. Weren't you sober?"

Your shoulders shrugged as you let out a faint snicker. "Well, that’s just how forgettable that stupid argument was."

You both felt a weight being lifted off of your shoulders once you talked it out, releasing the tension between you two. After all, you've always had a friendship built on mutual understandings, which was one of the things that made you work well together.

For the next few minutes, you two were just sitting with each other quietly, hearing the hushed chirps of the crickets and the two dogs now roughhousing close by the lakefront. It was a comfortable silence nonetheless, as you found Rhett's sole presence soothing.

"Do you, uh," he began roughly, nodding towards you as he fidgeted with his fingers, "do you remember how we first met?"

You chuckled breathily, shaking your head. "How could I ever forget?"

He grins at your response. "You were just... playing your guitar at The Handsome Gambler like always..." Rhett described the moment as if it happened just yesterday. When you first moved here, a full-time job just wasn't enough for you to thrive on, and so you entered the gig economy, playing live music at the local bar.

"Then this asshole," he continues with an eager smirk, "he, uh... You were playing... what was it...?"

You remembered that night like the back of your hand. "Knockin' On Heaven's Door,” you two ended up saying at the same time with a shared smile.

"Right," he says pleasantly. "Well, this asshole, he begins to just... heckle you, you know? For what—‘butchering’ a Bob Dylan song with your version? Anyways, I just... I couldn't just sit there and watch you get criticized by this dickwad, so I..." He playfully gestured a punch in the air.

"Hey, you beat him up hard," you laugh, remembering the scene quite fondly. "I was scared he wasn't going to be able to get up!"

"He deserved it," Rhett sneers pridefully. "But I was drunk too, so that probably… y’know, made me more aggressive… Hm, and then what? You bring me ice for my knuckles and thank me for it?"

"Yeah," you nod, confirming what happened right after the fight. You smiled to yourself as you thought about the memory, until a curious consideration came across your mind. "Hey, I always wondered... You barely knew me at the time. Yet you defended me like that. And you didn't come out of that fight unharmed either—you knew you were going to get bruised too. So... why did you do it?"

Rhett was slightly taken aback, not expecting that question, nor prepared with an answer. He took off his cowboy hat thoughtfully, setting it aside on the ground as he ran his hand through his tamed hair. "I dunno. I just... I've been around that bar several times. Saw you play the moment you first arrived, and then every other night since then. I always enjoyed your performances. Kinda felt protective when that son of a bitch started talking shit. Plus, I really liked your take on the song. It felt… original. Sounded nice. You know, I’ve always loved your playing before you stopped with the gigs.”

“Really?” You smiled wistfully, appreciating his attentiveness for you. "Well, I'm still forever grateful for what you did. And I mean, I was still going to play regardless of that guy, but... it meant a lot to me at that time."

You both looked at each other warmly. If you had to be honest with yourself, you would admit that your friendship with Rhett wasn't as simple or typical like others. There was this underlying feeling of admiration and affection that fell towards a more intimate tone rather than friendly. Of course, you two were close friends before anything, but you couldn't deny the romantic tension between you two.

As stated before, your friendship was built through mutual understandings. There was no doubt that you two knew your feelings might've been reciprocated.

You had been through a lot together. After meeting him many years back in that bar, you were still very close to him now. You were always there for him, from his failed bull rides to the recent disappearance of his sister-in-law, and he was there for you at your lowest moments, be it your financial struggles or awful past.

"You, um... You mean a lot to me," you mutter hesitantly, adding on to your previous statement. You looked up into his irises, which seemed to resemble a hauntingly beautiful cyclone, convinced you were drowning in them due to apparent breathlessness.

Frankly, the two of you were sick of this unspoken thing between one another. You knew there was something there, something more, but none of you had the guts to do anything about it. Right now, however, it finally felt right to just try.

Rhett's breath shivered as his eyes bored into yours, feeling his heart swell at your words. Hesitantly, his hand went up to cup the side of your face, feeling your soft cheek in his palm. Naturally, you leaned into his touch, blinking slowly as your breathing matched his.

And suddenly, you felt his lips meet yours, pressing a soft, gentle kiss against them, instantly feeling a blissful sense of euphoria throughout your body. All those years of tension and close calls, and you finally had him.

It was a brief kiss as you two looked at each other coyly, unable to stop grinning like the idiots you were.

Eagerly, your hands cupped his face as you kiss him again, feeling his hands grab your waist as it became more ardent than before. The kiss itself wasn’t at a fast pace, yet deeper compared to your first. His lips moved with yours fervently, fingers slipping under your shirt to feel your stomach and waist. His touch explored your ribs and your chest, fingernails lightly dragging over the skin so ticklishly. It was a new sensation, feeling the hands that belonged to Rhett’s touch you like this, feel your body like this.

Rhett became rougher, slipping his tongue in your mouth to deepen the kiss. His hand under your shirt moved to your back, his palm cupping your spine as he rubbed your skin. Then, he moved his fingers to the hem of your shirt, eager to undress you. After lifting it over your head and throwing it off somewhere, he laid you down on the blanket, attaching his lips to your neck. You laughed delightfully at the action, indulging in the fact that you would finally have him like this, knowing that he adored you the same way you adored him.

He pulled away briefly, sitting up to remove his shirt, then laid back down on top of you, kissing you once more. His gentle palms continued to explore your warm skin, trailing from your stomach, to your chest, then back down to your waist. He worshipped your bare torso in awe, taking advantage of the privilege of seeing you shirtless like this. Your body was addicting and he was desperate to keep feeling you against him.

“I’ve waited,” he muttered huskily in between slow kisses, “so damn... long for this.”

With his face back in your neck, nibbling the sensitive skin, he fumbled with your belt. His skilled fingers worked to unbuckle it as he kissed you, unzipping your pants after and dragging them down. Once the article of clothing came off, his lips dragged down your sternum to your lower stomach, stopping at the waistband of your underwear. He glances at you for a second with arousal and appeal before hooking his thumbs under the elastic, slowly dragging the cloth down your legs.

You felt the cold air hit your exposed warmth as the thin fabric made its way from your knees to your ankles, until Rhett finally slid it off your feet. He moved his head between your legs, hands resting on your hips. He began to nip at your thighs sensually, switching between your two legs as he would inch his way up your inner thighs. You shivered lightly at the feeling, his eyes gazing intensely into yours before his mouth began to work on you.

You gasped and flinched at the feeling of his tongue against your core, letting out a quiet moan as your eyelids grew heavy. His hands gripped your hips more firmly, pinning them to the ground after your legs merely trembled at the sensation. He slowly yet passionately licked at your most sensitive parts, prolonging the eye contact as he tasted your flesh.

Your fingers find his hair, tugging it lightly in pleasure as he continued with his movements, closing his lips around you. More whimpers left your mouth, feeling confident you were going to reach your orgasm through this. That was until he pulled away with a smirk, you whining at the loss of his touch as he quickly got out of his jeans. Throwing it to the side, he slipped his boxers off, letting his length spring free.

Seeing him naked above you stirred a new, indescribable feeling of arousal in yourself. Watching the man you’ve adored for years prep your body for him to take.

“You ready?” He mumbles, looking down at you for your confirmation.

You nodded, heart racing. “Yeah.”

Rhett’s hands propped himself up against the blanket, hovering above you to see your face. As his cock slowly pushed through your entrance, his lips parted slightly, opening his mouth in awe of the feeling. The further he moved into you, he had stretched your inner walls until his hips met yours. The two of you let out a satisfied moan once he was fully sheathed inside of you, your tightness bringing him immense pleasure.

Rhett couldn’t believe he was taking you right now. He’s wanted you for so long, and now, you were finally his.

With a short peck against your lips, Rhett began to thrust in and out at a steady pace. He didn’t want to go too fast so soon, as he was just indulging in the feeling of your body around him. Just knowing it was you he was making love with had spurred him on. He’s never felt so good before.

“Fuck!” You cry out once he decided to increase his pace. With each thrust, his cock caressed your fleshy insides, him letting out low grunts with every movement. His gentle, warm hands moved down your sides until they reached your thighs. Firmly gripping onto the flesh, he wrapped your legs around his waist to fuck you in a much closer position.

Soon, the sounds of him ramming into your body echoed louder throughout the quiet lake as the lewd, wet noise of skin slapping against skin filled your ears. You whined softly at the gratifying feeling of him pounding into you like this.

Your hands moved to cup his face, trying to kiss his lips as much as you could while he thrusted his hips. The moment became more intimate as you poured your deep affection for him into the kiss, only for it to not last as long, due to your persistent moaning.

“Oh, Rhett… Mmm…” you whimper, closing your legs tighter around him to push him in deeper. One of his hands left your thigh to reach for your palm, interlocking his fingers with yours next to your head. Rhett groaned as his eyes briefly closed shut, his pace getting quicker, motivated by the beautiful sounds escaping your lips.

���God, you feel too good,” he mumbles hotly, continuing to penetrate you as he reached down to nibble your neck. Rhett's moans were loud and feverish, nearly drooling in his mouth from the pleasant feeling of your body.

However, the blissful moment was ruined when you hear your dog barking in your ear.

”Fuck,” you huff, frustrated by the interruption while Rhett felt prompted to continue his motions, regardless of the circumstance, “go away, Leo.”

Your dog whined at you, continuing to yelp, in which Rhett couldn’t help but laugh, his thrusts faltering. “Leo, git!” You pant, trying to push his scrunched face away with your hand.

Rhett’s movements inside you came to a subtle halt as he chuckled softly at the circumstance. “He wants you to throw it,” he snickers.

You turned your head to see a new stick that your border collie brought you. “Yeah, I know,” you sigh, grabbing the stick as you looked at Rhett’s grin, unamused. Finally, you threw it far, adjacent to the other dog by the lake, hoping the two would go back to being occupied with each other.

“Damnit, that is such a mood killer,” you scoff, looking back at the snarky cowboy above you.

“Yeah, we probably should’ve done this back at your place,” he says with a teasing smirk.

“Well, you’re the one who decided to do this here,” you retort.

”And we’re only here because you brought us here,” he raises an eyebrow, chuckling.

He had a point. “Oh, shut up.”

After an affectionate giggle, Rhett’s lips kisses yours again slowly, in a rhythm that no song could ever surpass. He angled his head to kiss you deeply, gradually beginning to thrust into you again with his hardened length. You moaned, feeling his cock rubbing your flesh once again, moving in and out. For now, his movements had been slow, focusing on the pleasure his body brought you.

Rhett’s hands left your fingers and thigh, hooking his arms under yours to grip the back of your shoulders. This allowed him to thrust faster, his hips finally rolling rapidly into yours. “Oh, fuck!” You whine at the powerful new pace. “Fuck, I’m so close!”

Rhett moaned with you shamelessly, mouth gaping in pleasured wonder. “You’re so damn beautiful, you’ve always been so fucking beautiful,” he rambled under his breath, kissing your lips sloppily, “cum with me, sweetheart, come on.”

Before a coherent word could leave your mouth, a loud, long moan escaped your throat once you came intensely. As your walls clenched amorously around his girth, Rhett spilled his warm, white semen inside of you, groaning as he kept himself in that deep position.

You both panted heavily, catching your breaths as Rhett collapsed on top of you, his sweaty, bare chest pressed against yours. A lazy grin appeared on his face, peppering light kisses on your neck.

You didn’t want him to pull out yet, but you knew he had to, whining softly at the loss of his warmth once he did. His dark, gentle eyes were fixed on yours as they had the entire night, cupping your face for another doting kiss.

Rhett’s lips pressed against yours passionately, tasting you once again with both affection and lust. After the short gesture, the two of you lay there, comfortably naked by the lake, as it might as well have been the Garden of Eden. You looked at each other tenderly, as there wasn’t enough words to describe your affections towards one another.

Your head rested on Rhett’s heaving chest, idly tracing his tattoo with your fingertips. You knew you would eventually have to get dressed and get back home, but you gave rein in the pleasure of this particular moment.

It simply felt like heaven.

[hoshifighting]

Racer!Reader x Racer!Mingyu 一 Rivals to Lovers

Synospsis: Racer!Mingyu, the new kid, is determined to beat you in the college underground race. Does he have the guts to defeat you, his senior, the reigning queen of the racing scene? Before the race starts, a photo of your boyfriend cheating on you is spread to the students. When you look up from your phone, there's Mingyu with his piercing eyes. [...]

“Hmm, all upset, just the way I wanted,” Mingyu teased, leaning against the doorframe.

WC: 8k

Warnings: Cheating, illegal racing, rumors, smut, angst, penetrative sex, oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), squirt, clit stimulation, g'spot stimulation, body fluids (cum), kinda of rage make out?, chocking, spanking, dirty talk, sex pic and etc.

Mingyu. A name that had once been just a murmur in the shadows of the racing world is now on everyone's lips. This new kid, this prodigy, decided to go against the grain, to take on the best and make a name for himself. 

And somehow, you're the one he's set his sights on. The competition is obvious, like the electricity in the air before a storm, and the entire college is buzzed with bets. It's impossible to ignore the excitement at the thought of the race tonight. It's been too long since you've felt this alive.

The smell of burnt rubber and gasoline is already in your nose, a scent that brings back a flood of memories. The first time you felt the wind rush past you on two wheels, the rush of adrenaline when you crossed the finish line ahead of the pack. 

The races had been your escape, your way to prove to the world that you were more than just another face in the crowd. 

And now, as you lace up your boots and slip into your worn-in leather jacket, you know that this race will be different. It's not just about the thrill anymore. It's about pride, about maintaining your title, about showing Mingyu that he's bitten off more than he can chew.

The stakes are higher than ever before. You can feel it in the way Mark's eyes darken every time he looks at you, in the way he clenches his fists when Mingyu's name is mentioned.

As you swing your leg over your bike and rev the engine, you push those thoughts aside. Tonight, there's only one thing that matters: the race, the roar of the engines, and the taste of victory.

Mingyu's eyes sparkle inside his helmet, the gleaming visor reflecting the neon lights of the college parking lot that's been transformed into a makeshift race track. He's young, fearless, and he's got something to prove. 

You've watched him from afar, studied his technique, his daring moves that have earned him the title of 'the rookie to watch'. He's good, really good, but he's never raced against someone like you. You're the old war-horse in this game, a veteran who's seen it all and done it all. 

And now, the moment has arrived.

The girl in the quadriculed flag raises it high, her arm muscles taut with excitement. You and Mingyu lock eyes for a brief second, a silent promise of a fierce battle to come. And then, with a nod from her, you both speed off into the night. Your bike responds to your touch like a well-trained steed, the engine purring as you lean into the first turn.

But this is your turf, and you're not about to let some newcomer take your crown without a fight.

As the race extends, the wind whips through your hair, and the roar of the engines fills your ears. The world around you is a blur of lights and shadows, the only thing clear being the track ahead and the figure of Mingyu on your tail. 

You push harder, feeling the bike protest under your command, but she holds steady. You're the lead, with Mingyu playing the role of the eager suitor, eager to overtake. You can't help but smile beneath your helmet. It's been so long since someone's made you feel this alive. The thrill of the chase is intoxicating, and you're going to enjoy every second of it.

As you cross the finish line, you pull a dramatic wheelie, the tires screeching and smoking against the asphalt. You circle around, revving the engine, feeling the power beneath you, and as you come to a stop, Mingyu pulls up beside you. 

You both remove your helmets, and the chilly night air kisses your sweat-drenched skin. His eyes are on you, focused and intense, drinking in the sight of you. Your hair is a wild mess around your face, the wind from the race playing with it like it's alive.

You swing your leg over the bike, the leather of your pants hugging your thighs tightly. You stand there, arms crossed over your chest, looking at him. He's tall, with a muscular build that's clear even through his bulky racing gear. His face is a mask of determination, and there's something about the way he carries himself that makes you want to knock him down a peg.

"So, what's your name, kid?" you ask, your voice carrying over the din of the engines.

Mingyu's face cracks into a smirk, and he extends his hand towards you. "Mingyu. Kim Mingyu," he says, his voice deep and sure. But you don't take the bait. You keep your arms crossed, your eyes locked on his.

His smirk falters a little when you ignore his outstretched hand, and he slowly lowers it. 

The crowd around you goes quiet, watching this silent exchange like it's a scene from a movie. They know the history, the tension, and the unspoken challenge that's just been laid down.

"Well, you must know me," you say, the leather jacket creaks as you tighten your grip. 

"I know of you," he says, his language tinged with a hint of an accent. "But I'm not here to bow down to reputations. I'm here to make my own." You can't help but respect that.

The crowd around you is hushed, waiting for the next move. Mark is there, his eyes on you, a silent question in his gaze. You give him a nod, reassuring him that you're okay, that you're in control.

 The rivalry between you and Mingyu has only just started, and it's going to be one hell of a race.

Mark storms over, eyes flashing with anger. "What the hell are you two talking about for so long?" His voice cuts through the cheers of the crowd, drawing their attention. You feel the tension between him and Mingyu, like a string pulled taut, ready to snap.

Mingyu just watches him with that sly grin, clearly enjoying the show. His gaze flickers over you, lingering on your leather pants, and you feel a shiver of annoyance and something else you can't quite name.

"Hey, Mark," you say, trying to keep your tone light, but there's an edge to it. "Calm down. We were just talking."

"Talking? That's what you're calling it?" Mark's voice is loud, drawing even more eyes to your little drama. He turns to Mingyu, his face red. "And what are you looking at?"

You roll your eyes, the frustration bubbling up inside you. "Mark, walk."

He stares at you, eyes wide in disbelief. "What?"

"Yeah, walk," you repeat, your voice firm. "Just go cool off."

For a moment, it looks like he might argue, but then he glances at Mingyu, who’s still smirking, clearly enjoying the spectacle. With a huff, Mark turns on his heel and stalks off, the crowd parting to let him through.

Mingyu chuckles, a low sound that only you can hear. "What an obedient boyfriend you have."

You shoot him a look, half warning, half curiosity. "Don't push your luck, Mingyu."

He raises his hands in mock surrender, the grin never leaving his face. "Just calling it like I see it. But seriously," his tone shifts, becoming more sincere, "you were amazing out there."

"Thanks," you say, the word coming out more curt than you intended. You take a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering tension from Mark's outburst. "So, why did you want to race me, really?"

Mingyu’s expression becomes thoughtful, the cocky façade slipping just a little. "Because I wanted to see if the rumors were true. And now, I know they are."

You can't help but smile at that, feeling a rush of pride. "Well, you gave me a good run for my money."

"Next time," he says, his voice low and filled with promise, "I'll be the one crossing the finish line first."

"We'll see about that," you reply, walking out with your motorcycle by your side, glancing at him over your shoulder. 

[...]

Mingyu, the new kid, had something different, something that pushed your limits in a way no other rival had before. It was exhilarating, but also stressful. And your boyfriend’s incessant comments about Mingyu didn’t help.

Every time he brought up how Mingyu looked at you, how rude he was, how he thought he was the most incredible thing, you rolled your eyes. Mark’s jealousy was nothing new, but you’d never seen him so uncomfortable around someone before.

For the past month, you’d heard from other students that Mingyu had been spreading rumors about how he was going to win this race, no matter what. It was irritating, but also a challenge you couldn’t ignore.

As you were heading to your P.E. class, you saw Mingyu and his friend walking down the hallway. He spotted you immediately, a grin spreading across his face.

"Look who's here, Y/N... without the leather jacket?" His eyes roved over your tight gymnastic clothing, clearly enjoying the sight.

You smiled around the scrunchie you held between your teeth as you tidied up your hair, then pulled it free to tie it up. "Look who’s here, Mingyu... still talking big?" you teased back, not missing a beat.

He laughed, a rich sound that echoed down the hall. "Only because I’ve got the skills to back it up."

"Oh, really?" you said, raising an eyebrow. "All I’ve seen so far is a lot of talk."

"Maybe you just haven’t been paying close enough attention," he replied, leaning casually against the lockers. "I’ll make sure to give you a front-row seat next time."

You finished tying your hair and gave him a mock look of concern. "I’d hate to see you disappoint all those fans you’ve been bragging to."

He smirked, undeterred. "Don’t worry, I’ve got this covered. You might want to start thinking about a new title because that crown is coming my way."

"Big words for someone who hasn't beaten me yet," you shot back, stepping closer, your confidence unwavering.

"We'll see about that," he said, his voice low and filled with promise. His eyes held yours for a moment longer, the air between you crackling with tension.

Mingyu doesn't look the least bit afraid of you, of your reputation, of what you can do on this track. He's bold, maybe even a little cocky, and you can't decide if you like it or if it just makes you want to wipe that smug look off his face. 

You've always been the one everyone looks up to, the one they whisper about in the halls. But now, there's someone new, someone who doesn't seem to know his place. And that's what makes him so intriguing.

You know Mingyu will be back, and he'll be better next time. And you can tell your boyfriend, Mark, is not happy about this new rivalry一about the way Mingyu makes you feel alive again.

"You've got to get your head out of the clouds, Y/N," Mark says as you look to the ceiling, "This isn't just a game anymore."

You pull back, looking up at him. "What do you mean?"

"Mingyu," he says, his voice tight with anger, "he's different. He's not like the others."

You roll your eyes, trying to play it off. "He's just a freshman with a fast bike," you say.

"He's been watching you," Mark says, his eyes searching yours, "studying you. He's got a vendetta, and I don't like it."

You swallow hard, pushing the thought away. You can't let Mingyu get under your skin like this. "I've got this," you reply, trying to sound more confident than you feel.

But Mark's not convinced. He's noticed the way your mind has been elsewhere, the way you've been pushing him away. The way you've been turning down his advances, lost in thought about the new kid on the block. He's been frustrated for a few weeks, trying to get you to focus on anything other than the race. 

As the days pass, the tension between you and Mark grows thicker. He tries to initiate sex, but your mind is always elsewhere, replaying the race, thinking about Mingyu's next move. You know you're hurting him, but you can't seem to stop.

 The thought of Mingyu, of the way he looked at you, of the way he talked about winning, it's like a drug. And you're hooked.

The next day, you're in the garage, wrench in hand, making some final adjustments to your bike. You've always been meticulous, but with Mingyu on your mind, you're even more so. You can't have anything going wrong on your bike when you face him again.

The door to the garage opens, and you look up, expecting it to be Mark, but instead, it's Mingyu. He struts in, his leather jacket and bike helmet hanging casually from his hand.

"Hey, Y/N," he says, a smug smile playing on his lips. "I see you're still playing with your toy."

You roll your eyes, not bothering to hide your annoyance. "What do you want?" you ask, not looking up from your work.

"Just thought I'd come by and say congrats," he says, leaning against the workbench. "You put on a good show last night."

You raced a senior from your class last night. You won despite the slippery concrete caused by the rain. Again.

You slam the wrench down, the sound echoing in the empty garage. "Thanks, but I'm not looking for your approval," you reply, your voice icy.

Mingyu laughs, a sound that grates on your nerves. "You don't have to be so defensive," he says, his eyes scanning the garage, "I just wanted to talk shop, maybe pick up some tips from the queen herself."

You stand up, wiping your hands on your greasy rag. "What makes you think I'd share anything with you?"

He shrugs, his smile never wavering. "Call it a peace offering," he says, holding out his hand. "Truce?"

You stare at his hand for a moment, weighing your options. You know you need to keep your enemies closer, especially one as talented as Mingyu. You take his hand, giving it a firm shake. "Fine," you say, "but don't get any ideas."

"Oh, I have plenty of ideas," he says, his eyes glinting with mischief, "but I'll save them for the track."

You can't help but laugh, despite yourself. He's got nerve, you'll give him that. You spend the next hour talking bikes and racing strategies, and for the first time since the race, you feel like you're not just a competitor but a fellow enthusiast. It's strange.

As Mingyu leaves, you can't help but feel a blend of emotions. There's the excitement of the challenge he represents, the thrill of the rivalry that's been ignited. But there's also a nagging doubt, a fear that maybe Mark is right. 

Maybe Mingyu isn't just a racer looking to make a name for himself. Maybe he's got something more planned, something that could threaten not just your title but your relationship. 

You shake the thought off, telling yourself you're just being paranoid. After all, it's just a race, right?

[...]

The sun is setting, casting a warm orange glow over the makeshift circuit that’s been built for tonight's race. You take a long sip of your Gatorade, savoring the cool taste as you mentally prepare yourself for the competition. The grandstand is buzzing with energy, students excitedly chattering about the upcoming event.

As you sit there, focusing on your breathing, Mingyu appears and casually sits down next to you. You chuckle, unable to help yourself. "Are you following me, kid?"

He rolls his eyes, a familiar gesture by now. "I’m not a kid."

"But I’m your senior," you counter, grinning at the way his face sours. He’s always so easy to tease. "What did you plan?"

"Huh?" He seems genuinely confused, his attention now fully on you.

You smirk, leaning back a bit. "What do you have up your sleeve, Mingyu? Some oil on the floor, a pin in my tire...?"

He laughs, shaking his head. "I don’t need tricks to beat you."

"Good," you say, your voice dropping slightly, more serious now. "Because neither do I."

Before the conversation can go any further, your boyfriend, Mark, appears. "What’s he doing here?" he asks, his tone accusatory.

"Just talking," you reply, trying to keep your cool.

"Talking, huh?" Mark scoffs. "Seems like he’s always around, doesn’t it? You’d think he’s got nothing better to do."

"I think you’re overreacting." You breath tired. 

Mark's eyes narrow. "Just remember who’s waiting for you at the finish line."

Mingyu’s jaw tightens at this, his posture stiffening. He looks like he’s holding back something, a secret or a truth he’s not ready to share.

You glance at Mingyu, noticing the shift in his conduct. "What’s that look for?" you ask him, curious despite yourself.

He shakes his head, the tension in his body evident. "Nothing. Just focus on the race."

You button your jacket, feeling the familiar weight of the leather settle around your shoulders. Checking your shoelaces, you make sure they’re tight, ready for the race ahead. The buzz of your phone breaks the moment, a single notification lighting up the screen. You glance around, noticing other students doing the same, pulling their phones from their pockets.

It’s odd, almost synchronized.

The feeling in your gut is like a rock, weighing you down, making it harder to breathe. You glance around, noticing the smirks and knowing looks from the other racers, the whispers that seem to carry on the wind. 

You click on it, and your heart sinks like a stone. It's a picture of Mark, your Mark, kissing a girl. A girl with auburn hair and a laugh that's nothing like yours. And he's wearing the shirt you gave him just this week, the one with the funny racing pun on the back. The same shirt he wore to bed last night, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

You stand there, frozen, as the world carries on around you. The cheers of the crowd, the roar of the bikes—it’s all just background noise now. You look up and see everyone watching you, their expressions a combination of pity and shock. They all know now. They've all seen it.

And as your eyes meet Mingyu's, you realize that he knows too. There's something in his gaze, a glint of satisfaction that makes your blood boil. Did he do this? Did he send this to you? The thought is like a knife twisting in your gut, but you can’t be sure.

With trembling hands, you slip the phone back into your pocket, trying to compose yourself. You don’t want to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing you fall apart. But as you button your jacket and tighten the laces of your boots, you can’t help but feel like you’re tying up the loose ends of your life. 

Everything’s changed in the span of a single message. Your heart is racing, but it’s not from the thrill of the chase anymore. It stems from the agony of disloyalty and the rage at being played for a fool.

And as you turn to face Mark, who’s pushing his way through the crowd, his eyes searching for yours, you know that the real race has only just begun.

Your breath comes in shudders as you hop on your bike, putting on your helmet. You’ve give all the signs that you are going to race tonight. The crowd is abuzz with anticipation, their eyes locked on you. 

You roll the bike's accelerator, the roar calling for attention so the race can start. The flag girl gulps, her nervousness evident, and you look over your shoulder to see Mingyu approaching.

The girl stretches the flag, and you brace yourself. The lights go out, and suddenly, you're off, the wind in your hair, the roar of the engines filling your ears. Mingyu is right beside you. You can feel the bike responding to your every move, the tires gripping the asphalt like a vice. 

Inside your helmet, your breathing is loud and ragged, a stark reminder of the adrenaline and anger coursing through you.

As you race, your thoughts race too. Mingyu planned everything. He sat by your side to watch you unravel from Mark's jealous crisis, and then those messages minutes before the race start—meant to destabilize you. It’s like a puzzle clicking into place, each piece revealing the depth of his strategy.

The bike protests but holds steady as you apply more pressure. The track is a blur, but your focus is razor-sharp. Mingyu is still there, matching your speed, but you’re not going to let him win.

You replay the moment when you first saw the message, the image of Mark kissing another girl. It stings, but it also sets you aflame. How dare he think he can break you? How dare he underestimate you? You’re not just racing against Mingyu; you’re racing against the doubts and whispers.

Mingyu pulls ahead slightly, his bike edging past yours. You grit your teeth, leaning forward to reduce drag, pushing your bike to its limits. The sound of the engines is loud, the wind whipping past you. 

You glance at Mingyu. He thinks he won, that his plan worked. But he doesn’t know you. 

You see the final stretch approaching, the finish line within sight. You dig deep, finding that last reserve of strength. You and Mingyu are neck and neck, the crowd’s cheers blending into a single roar. The world narrows to just this moment, just this race.

As you cross the finish line, you throw all your weight into one last burst of speed. You cross the line a split second before Mingyu, the crowd exploding into cheers.

You slow down, the realization of your win sinking in. You did it. Despite everything, you did it. But still, there is no taste of victory in your mouth.

The cheers fade as you lean forward, gripping the handlebars, and ride your bike away from the circuit, leaving a cloud of dust behind you. The streets blur past you, seeking an escape from everything. Your dorm or campus are the last place you want to be tonight.

After what feels like hours, you spot a cheap motel by the roadside. Its flickering neon sign is a welcome sight, a promise of anonymity, and a place to rest. You pull in, park your bike and walk to the reception. The clerk barely looks up as you hand over cash for the night. Key in hand, you head to your room.

The room is small and poorly illuminated, but it’s a refuge from the chaos of the night. You lay on the bed, the springs creaking under you, and pull out your phone. The screen is still lit with notifications, but you don’t want to see any of them. Whether it was Mingyu or someone else who shared those photos, you don’t care. Not tonight.

[...]

The weekend drags by, each minute feeling like an eternity. You don’t go to class, don’t leave your dorm except to grab food from the vending machine, because, you can’t face the pity in your friends’ eyes.

You clean obsessively, organizing your bookshelf, scrubbing the floors, folding clothes into neat piles. It’s a futile attempt to regain some semblance of order in your life. It feels like you’re erasing him from your life, one item at a time.

The notifications on your phone keep popping up, your friends and classmates checking in, asking if you’re okay. You manage to reply with short, curt responses. "Yeah," you type, "Just need some space." The lie feels heavy on your fingertips, but it’s easier than explaining the tornado of emotions inside you.

As the day stretches on, you start to feel a little more in control. You’re not going to let this beat you. You’re not going to let Mark or Mingyu ruin what you’ve built. 

So you sit there, in the quiet of your room, and you start to plan. You’re going to show up to class, to the next race, with your head held high. You’re going to leave the drama behind and focus on what you do best—race.

On Thursday, you walk into class, a box in your arms. The whispers start as soon as you enter the room, the eyes are on you like a spotlight. You find Mark’s usual seat and drop the box in front of it, the thud echoing in the stunned silence.

The box, with his things.

You don’t wait for his reaction. You don’t need to. You turn and walk out, leaving the whispers and the weight of his backstabbing behind.

At lunch, you sit with your friends, the same table you’ve shared since freshman year. They all look at you, their eyes filled with concern. "You okay?" one of them asks, tentatively.

You nod, trying to put on a brave face. "Yeah," you say, your voice stronger than you feel, "I just needed some time to sort things out."

They all nod, understanding without needing the details. They know the score, they know what happened at the race. They know about the picture, the rumors, the cheating.

"You've cried enough," your best friend says, her voice firm but gentle, "It's like that bruise on your knee from when you were seven. It hurt like hell, but it's healing now."

You manage a small smile at the memory. It’s true. You’ve shed enough tears over Mark to fill an ocean. But here you are, breathing, standing, moving forward.

"Let’s talk about something else," you say, changing the subject. "What's new with all of you?"

They exchange glances, clearly surprised by your sudden shift in tone, but they follow your lead. They talk about their classes, their weekends, their plans for spring break. You listen, really listen, letting their words wash over you like a balm to your soul.

"Oh, and apparently none of Mark’s friends want to talk to him," someone says, almost as an afterthought. "They had no idea."

"Good," you say. "He’s not worth their time either."

Your friends nod, respecting your wishes to not delve into the drama further. You don’t need their pity or their empathy. You just need them to be there, to be the rock that grounds you.

The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch, and you all stand up, collecting your trash. "Thanks, guys," you say, your voice genuine.

"For what?" one of them asks.

"For not treating me like I’m made of glass." you reply, smiling.

They laugh, you know they’re worried, but you also know they trust you to handle this. You’re the same person you were before the race. You’re strong.

The sadness has morphed into something else, anger simmers just under the surface, a slow burn that’s been building since that message. You’re not just mad at Mark, but at Mingyu too. You don’t know his role in this, but you can feel his influence, the way he’s been poking and prodding, trying to get under your skin.

And now, it’s like a game of chess, and you’re the pawn in the middle of the board. You can’t help but wonder if he’s been playing you from the start. If all those smirks and smug looks were just part of his plan to take you down.

The bell rings, and you grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. As you turn to leave, you feel a hand wrap around your arm. You turn, ready to snap, and find yourself face-to-face with Mingyu. You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“Come on, don’t be grumpy. Running away from me, princess?” he says, a sulky look on his face.

You remember avoiding both Mingyu and Mark all day, doing everything to keep your distance. You start to leave, but he holds onto your arm again, making you huff in frustration.

“You should thank me, don’t you think?” he says, his tone teasing.

You frown. “What do you mean?”

Mingyu smirks. “First, I let you win last Saturday,” he says, lying through his teeth. You remember how he was right on your tail during the race, clearly giving it his all.

“And I got you rid of that asshole,” he adds.

You cross your arms, glaring at him. “So, you’re admitting you orchestrated this whole thing, huh?”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Well, I warned him it would happen.”

“He knew?” you ask, your voice rising in disbelief.

Mingyu tilts his head slightly, like he’s stating the obvious. “Of course he knew. Y/N, he was cheating on you for a whole semester. At the first freshman party I went to, I saw him with Sayla. She’s from my class.”

“What?” you nearly shout, drawing the attention of nearby students. Mingyu gives you an exasperated look, like it’s common knowledge.

You grab his arm and drag him around campus, heading for the grandstand where you can talk in private. Once there, you turn to him, your eyes blazing with anger.

“I saw the photo, and I know it’s real. But Mingyu, if you’re lying about this, I swear I will fucking kill you.”

He shakes his head, his expression serious. “Why would I lie to you? If I need to tell you something, I’ll say it to your face.”

“Tell me from the beginning,” you demand, crossing your arms.

He rolls his eyes but starts talking. “Well, it was my first party here, a freshman party. I needed to go to the bathroom, and there they were, making out.”

You make a disgusted face, which seems to amuse him. “But in the photo, they weren’t in a bathroom,” you point out.

“Yeah, it happened plenty of times. When I found out he was your boyfriend, I went to a frat party and took that photo,” Mingyu explains.

“That one?” you ask, referring to the incriminating photo.

Mingyu nods. “Yeah, that one. He saw the photo and came to have it out with me. I might have told him that if he didn’t tell you, I would, and that I would love to take care of his girlfriend.”

You scoff. “So that’s why he was so sick-jealous of me?”

Mingyu closes his eyes and nods like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You curse under your breath, feeling the weight of betrayal all over again. “This motherf—”

You stop, looking at Mingyu, who’s watching you with a confused expression. “What do you mean by ‘take care of his girlfriend’?”

Mingyu smirks. “I was interested in you. But when I found out you were dating, I backed off. When I saw your boyfriend slacking, I needed to make it clear to Mark that I was going to reach out to you somehow.”

You narrow your eyes at him, the audacity of it all making your blood boil. “So, you’ve been planning this from the start?”

“Not exactly,” Mingyu says, shrugging. “But I saw an opportunity and took it. Your boyfriend was a dick, and you deserve better.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “And you think you’re better?”

Mingyu’s is smug. “I know I am.”

“And what makes you think I’d be interested in you?” you challenge, crossing your arms.

Mingyu steps closer, his gaze intense. “You’re fierce, competitive, and you don’t take shit from anyone. You’re exactly the kind of challenge I like.”

You roll your eyes, though a small part of you is flattered? “You’re still an asshole.”

He grins. “Maybe, but at least I’m honest about it. Can’t say the same for Mark.”

You take a deep breath, trying to process everything. "Mingyu, just stay out of my way. I don’t need any more complications.”

“What can I say? I know what I want.” He shrugs before leaving, again, with that stupid smirk on his face. 

[...]

You were dragged by your friends to every party on campus, parties you didn’t even know existed, every day a new one. According to them, you needed to enjoy your new ‘single’ life. And with all the guys on campus now aware that you were single, your DMs were flooded. 

Tonight was one of those nights. Everyone saw you parking your motorcycle in front of the frat house, the rumble announcing your arrival. You danced with your friends, met new people, but your happiness didn’t last long.

You caught a glimpse of Mark and Sayla. Sayla was wearing one of his baseball jackets, his arm draped over her shoulder. Everyone stared at them, the ‘new’ couple making a fool of themselves. 

You didn’t expect Mark to be so bald-faced about it. Your blood boiled, your head felt like it was on fire, and you wanted to leave the party. But if you did, you’d look weak. So you stayed, trying to enjoy the party with your friends, but it was impossible. When Mark kissed Sayla, one eye open in your direction to gauge your reaction, you couldn’t take it anymore.

You grabbed your helmet and stormed out of the party, your friends calling after you, warning you not to do anything stupid because you were hot-headed. 

And you were, for real. 

Arriving back on campus, you pulled out your phone, fingers fumbling as you dialed a number. Your steps echoed, the dress you’d chosen for the party riding up with each step, making you pull it down in frustration.

The phone rang, and rang, until finally, a voice answered, “You calling me? Y/N, what a—”

“Where are you?” you cut him off, voice trembling with rage.

“Damn, what happened to ‘hello, how are you?’” The voice was playful, but you weren’t in the mood.

“Where. Are. You.”

“Hell, I’m at my dorm, wassup?”

“Open the door,” you demanded.

“What?”

“Open the fucking door,” you said before hanging up.

Moments later, the dorm door opened, revealing Mingyu with the phone still in his hand, wearing only black shorts that showed a peek of his white underwear. He looked confused, but when he saw you—eyes almost black with rage, in your little dress—he swore it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

“Hmm, all upset, just the way I wanted,” he teased, leaning against the doorframe.

You pushed him inside, slamming the door shut behind you and tossing your cell phone on the table. You kissed him, rough and urgent, your fingers tangling in his hair. Mingyu moaned between kisses, the realization that you were kissing him sinking in. His hands found your waist, one hand sliding up to your neck, choking you slightly, making you gasp.

A smirk played on his lips, between breaths. “About time you admitted it.”

“Shut up,” you muttered before kissing him again, harder this time.

Mingyu's grip tightened on your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re so damn hot when you’re mad,” he murmured against your lips.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” you demanded, your fingers tugging at his hair.

He obliged, kissing you with a fervor that matched your own. His hand slid down your back, gripping your ass and pulling you against him. You could feel his bulge pressing against you, a reminder of how much he wanted you. You broke the kiss, breathlessly, your eyes locking onto his.

“What’s your plan, Y/N?” he asked, his voice a low growl.

You smirked, a glint of mischief in your eyes. “To make sure I don’t think about Mark ever again.”

Mingyu’s eyes darkened with craving. “I can help with that.”

“Good,” you said, pulling him back into a kiss, your hands exploring his body, feeling the heat radiating from his skin, fingers fumbling from his big chest, to the defined lines of his abs.

Your hand slides from his lower belly to his cock, squeezing his clothed erection slightly. You feel him twitch in your hand, a broken sob leaving his lips.

“Fuck, you got hard so fast,” you murmur against his mouth.

He moans, his breath hot and heavy. “Can’t help it when it’s you.”

You grin wickedly, turning around to show him the long zipper at the back of your dress. “Help me,” you say, your voice low and inviting.

Mingyu nods, his eyes dark with desire. He bites his lip, trying to stifle a moan as he catches the zipper and slides it down, his happiness akin to opening a Christmas gift. The dress falls away, and you hold your breasts in your hands, turning to face him, your fingers playing with your hardened nipples, watching his eyebrows furrow.

His hot hand covers yours, and you let him take over, feeling the heat of his touch. He pushes you toward the bed, his lips trailing kisses down your neck before biting gently, his notorious fangs grazing your sensitive skin. 

You moan, the sound going straight to his cock. His hands move desperately to your panties, fingers fumbling with the lace until they’re off your legs. He opens your legs with his hands, giving your wet folds a not-so-discreet look.

Mingyu licks his fingers, meeting your eyes before sliding them inside you. You scream at the sudden stretch, feeling his big fingers filling you. He looks at you, to see if it hurts, but then he feels you getting wetter and wetter, your pants filling the room. His hand stills, and you roll your clit against his palm.

His fingers start to slide in and out, the wet noises are sinful as he finds your g'spot. You gasp, your body arching from his bedsheets, your both hands finding his forearm, stilling his fingers curled in this position. 

Mingyu's eyes widen in surprise at your reaction, and he repeats the motion, pressing against your sweet spot again, making your eyes fill with tears. 

''R-right here! Please!" 

“Did your boyfriend never find this spot?” he asks, his voice serious.

You shake your head negatively, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps. 

Mingyu's expression hardens, anger flashing in his eyes. “That asshole didn’t know how to please you,” he mutters, then his voice softens as he coos at you. 

You sob, his fingers curling repeatedly on the spongy spot. “Aw… don’t worry, my love. I’m going to make you feel so good.”

He continues to stimulate you, watching your every reaction, your pleasure nourishing his own. His fingers work you expertly, and you start to get embarrassed by how wet you are getting.

But you can't stop your hips from rubbing against his hands, you can't stop yourself from constantly moaning his name, and you can't help but wonder how you survived without feeling the pleasure Mingyu was giving you.  

Your body tenses so much, you're afraid of getting injured, and the pleasure builds, making your vision blurry, catching only Mingyu's silhouette. “Mingyu…,” you gasp, your voice shaking.

He's in love with your sensitive form. He slides his fingers out, brushing against your clit, making you moan, wanting the stimulation again, but then he munches on your pussy, making a throaty moan leave your mouth, tears wetting your cheeks. You don't even know if you're sobbing or moaning. You can only focus on his warm mouth sucking everything it can. 

Mingyu moans against you, like he's getting stimulated too, and when you manage to squeak out, “Gonna' cum,” he moans even more, the vibrations going to your clit as you arch your back, squeezing your tits. 

He opens your legs—quivering pathetically around his head—with the strength of his arms. He only stops when he feels your clit throbbing incessantly inside his mouth, all sensitive.

You don't know how long it took before you were in your mind again, but you can feel Mingyu kissing your whole body. For him, it was a maxim to calm you down, but mainly to appreciate every bit of your skin. When you open your eyes, he's kissing your hand, his thumb gently caressing it. You don't look much, or you will blush. For him, it could finish like this: you cummed, satisfied, and he gets satisfied. But then you mumble, eyes lidded, “Fuck me, please.”

His eyes almost fall from his skull. He watches your legs spread, and you slap weakly at your pussy, inviting him. Mingyu almost falls back with your tease. His hands, lowering his shorts and underwear in one go, desperate to go over you.

"Wait." 

He stills, and you smile at his obedience. You turn around, on all fours, wiggling your ass at him, and you hear a suffered moan behind you, making you scoff. 

He squeezes your ass between his hands tightly, then slaps your meat, making you hiss. Then another one, making you moan. Then another one, making you drip a line of your cum on the sheets.

Mingyu feels like a crazy creature. He pumps his veiny cock before sliding on your wet folds to spread your cum. And then slides inside. You were so tight, so tight that his blood pressure almost falls down. 

“I need to thank your boyfriend for keeping it tight.” He groans after bottoming out.

You widen your eyes at the comment, he sounded so sincere. And you laugh, your hand covering your face, and he chuckles too, seeing that he can't hold his tongue around you.

He can feel you clenching around him every time you laugh, making him moan synchronized with you. He starts to move and your laughs turn into moans, laughed-moans.

“Shit, you’re so tight, you are squeezing me,” he cries, his thrusts slow and deep.

“Didn’t think you’d be this talkative,” you manage between gasps, your body responding to every move he makes.

“Can’t help it,” he breathes, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. 

His pace quickens, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. You grip the sheets, your back arching as he hits just the right spot. “Right there, Mingyu. Fuck, right there.”

He obeys, his thrusts becoming more precise, each one sending thrills through your body. “You feel so good,” he murmurs, his hands gripping your hips. “So fucking good.”

"Seriously, Mingyu," continue betwee moans, "you have no filter."

He grins, thrusting harder. "You're too much."

"Too much for you?" you tease, pushing back against him.

"Never," he mooans, his hands gripping your hips tighter. "I could do this forever."

You moan at his words, that feeling on your stomach tightening. "God, Mingyu..."

He leans over, his breath hot against your ear. "You like it when I talk, hm? When I say, how good you feel?"

You nod frantically, your mind a blur, you were cock-drunk, moaning his name like it was the only word you ever knew.

He chuckles darkly, thrusting deeper. "Good, because I’m not stopping until you can’t even say his name."

He stops his hips inside you, balls deep, and you can feel his tip kissing your cervix as he rolls his hips to make you feel it deep. Your arms quiver, making you fall with your chest on the bed, face on the sheets. You've never felt someone this deep before. Your hand reaches the bulge Mingyu makes on your belly, and you writhe.

He dirty talks, "You like to feel me here?"

You answer with a throaty moan. He closes his eyes to your rough moan and says, "Fuck, I need to see your pretty face moaning my name."

He turns you to lay on the bed again, one of your legs on his shoulder, and the other stretched by his hand. Since when were you this flexible? you think. When he slams inside you again, your messy cunt clings to him for dear life.

You moan all sly, and Mingyu is inches from your face now, and he teases you, "Look who's all sensitive right now. Where's that grumpy girl from the race? Hm? You just needed a good cock fucking you right to get you relaxed? Right, babe?"

You want to clap a hand on his mouth to keep his cocky talk out of it, but your pussy betrays you, clenching around him the moment his dirty words start to fall from his lips. Instead, you give some wet kisses on his lips. He reciprocates every one of them.

You ask him to touch you, and he looks in your eyes, asking, "Where?"

You guide one of his hands to your clit. He collects some of the lubrication that formed a ring at the base of his cock and starts to massage the swollen bud, circling it. Your nails scratch his back, and he hisses, eyes closing. He ruts desperately into you, your pussy casting a spell on him, all wet and good for him. 

You glance around the space, the warm illuminated lamp, the scent of his cologne everywhere, his tanned body sweating to give you pleasure, his muscles clenching as he holds you, his hand on your clit, his cock filling you, his eyes focused on every one of your expressions, his moans every time you clench.

You prepare for every detail when your eyes suddenly blur. You feel it coming... fuck. You're cumming, but something else is coming too. 

The realization hits you, and you say, "No, no, no, shit!"

You hold his bicep, your head thrown back, the veins on your neck popping. You try to stop, but you can't. You squirt all over him and his bed.

Mingyu stops inside you, mouth open. Now he gets desperate, taking his cock from you and cumming on your belly, so far that it hits your tits too. He lets your legs rest on the bed, and you cover your mouth.

"M-Mingyu, your bed! I'm sorry, let me put this to wash and—" You start to get up, feeling a rush of embarrassment and responsibility for the mess.

Mingyu, still catching his breath, quickly moves to stop you, his hand firm but gentle on your shoulder. He gives you a little push, making you lay back on the bed again. "Hey, relax," he says, his voice low and soothing. "It's just a bed. We can clean it up later."

You look at him, your cheeks flushed. "But it's such a mess," you protest weakly.

He chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. "I like it messy," he says, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "Besides, I think I like you better like this."

"But seriously, Mingyu, your bed—"

He cuts you off with a kiss, his lips capturing yours in a tender, lingering embrace. When he pulls back, his eyes are dark with desire. "The bed can wait," he murmurs. "Right now, I want to focus on you."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the sincerity in his voice making your pulse quicken. "Mingyu," you whisper, feeling the heat rise in your body again.

He tilts your chin up to meet his gaze, his thumb brushing gently over your lower lip. "You're beautiful, you know that?" he says softly. "Especially when you're all flustered and breathless like this."

Mingyu's eyes sparkle with mischief as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "Then why don't we make a little more mess before we clean up?" he suggests, his voice a seductive whisper.

[...]

Your ex's message lights up your cellphone on the table beside the bed: "Where are you?" Mark asks. You can't help but scoff at the audacity. The nerve of him to ask after everything he's done. A surge of defiance washes over you, fueled by the memory of him flaunting Sayla around like some trophy.

Mingyu's rhythm doesn't falter as he thrusts into you from behind, his hand gripping your hair, pulling just enough to make you feel the pain on your scalp, but loving the pleasure that comes with it too. You reach for your phone, you know exactly how to answer Mark's question.

With a quick swipe, you open the camera, positioning it just right. The screen captures the sinful scene—Mingyu's defined body behind you, your flushed shoulder peeking into view, and your hair being pulled by Mingyu. 

You snap the photo and attach it to the message as a single view photo. 

Letting the image speak for itself.

"Here's your answer," you mutter under your breath, hitting send.

Mingyu's grip tightens, his pace quickening as he senses the shift in your mood. "What did you just do?" he asks, laughing.

You turn your head slightly to meet his gaze, a wicked smile playing on your lips. "Just answered a question," you reply, your voice breathless.

Mingyu's eyes darken with approval. "Good girl," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss the back of your neck, his thrusts growing more forceful. "Let's give him something to really be jealous about."

The bed creaks beneath you, the sound mingling with the chorus of moans and gasps that fill the room. As Mingyu's hand slips down to tease your clit, your phone buzzes again, another message from Mark. 

But you don't bother to check it. 

[astrologydray]

Lot of Eros in the houses

The house shows where your deepest soul-level desire, erotic pull, and karmic passion tends to express itself. the realm of life where you experience that “I don’t know why I’m so drawn to this but I am…” kind of energy.

1st House – Erotic Identity

You embody desire. You radiate sexual energy without trying. Others may project their fantasies onto you. You are the Eros energy. Physical appearance plays a big role in attraction and seduction.

2nd House – Sensual Stability

You crave security and physical touch. Desire is tied to body, pleasure, voice, and values. You’re turned on by the slow burn, and you attract lovers through earthy sensuality and self-worth.

3rd House – Mind Games & Talk Flirt

Desire comes through conversation, texting, teasing, and mental chemistry. You’re magnetized by witty people and situations that stimulate your thoughts. Erotic energy lives in language, stories, and shared ideas.

4th House – Hidden Longing

You crave love that feels like home or that awakens ancestral/karmic memories. Passion is private, nurturing, and deeply rooted. Often attracts soulmate or past-life connections that trigger emotional rebirth.

5th House – Dramatic Romance

You’re meant to live out passionate, creative, dramatic love stories. Your erotic energy comes alive through fun, art, pleasure, and risk. You may attract crushes, flings, or lovers who feel like characters in your movie.

6th House – Sacred Devotion

You experience desire through service, caretaking, and dedication. There’s often an erotic pull toward lovers you help or heal—or who help and heal you. Kinks around control, submission, or workplace dynamics may show up here.

7th House – Erotic Mirror

You’re drawn to partners who reflect your own desires and shadows. Love and lust are often tied together. You seek passion through romantic relationship, but also face deep lessons through it. You attract soul mirrors.

8th House – Soul Merging

This is one of the most intensely erotic placements. You crave deep intimacy, sexual transformation, and psychological merging. Passion often involves power dynamics, taboo, obsession, or karmic entanglements.

9th House – Erotic Expansion

You crave lovers who open your mind or broaden your world. Spiritual, foreign, or philosophical types attract you. Passion is tied to travel, belief, and growth. You want sex that’s both sacred and wild.

10th House – Public Passion

You express desire through ambition, visibility, or reputation. Passion is professional, karmic, or tied to public roles. You may attract attention or power through your erotic energy—or find lovers in authority or status roles.

11th House – Future Love / Soul Tribes

You’re drawn to unconventional or friend-based love. Passion sparks in community settings, online spaces, or through shared causes. You attract soulmates who feel like part of your vision or destiny.

12th House – Secret Fantasies

The most mystical and elusive placement. You crave hidden, spiritual, or forbidden love. Desire may feel like a dream, a fantasy, or a karmic pull you can’t explain. Can bring secret affairs, soul-bonds, or past-life lovers.

[jollyparaphernalia]

*Inhales* Hey there, wanna see my 'In Stars And Time' AU? I call it 'Kingswap'

Hey, What's This?

My Brainrot <3 This is Kingswap: Also known as 'Hey lets swap The King and Siffrin's roles around in this play, and go from there'. There's more to it than that, but that's the premise. While 'The Guy Who Would Be Siffrin' has their life derailed in such a way that leads to them becoming the Main Villain, 'The Man Who Would Be King' likewise has his life play out in a way that has him in the shoes of a Saviour of Vaugarde.

WARNING This AU chatter post has spoilers for pretty much all of 'In Stars And Time', including stuff from 'Two-Hats'! and 'Start Again: A Prologue'. This is the Spoilers Zone. Also any Content Warnings that apply to In Stars and Time also applies to this post, just to cover my bases.

Let's Take a Look at The Stranger Who Could Have Been Siffrin:

Meet The Stagemaster. Potentially known as 'Sulking One'/SM/Don't Call Me Shirley Siffrin'. While the King and Siffrin in baseline ISAT woke up on a beach with no memories, i've decided it would be interesting to put 'Siffrin' in Corbeaux as a young adult when The Island disappears. He wakes up one day with no memories of his past, no name, and only a vague idea that he had a community in the city...that has forgotten him completely. He takes this Very Normally over the next 10 years (alongside some other...complications) and after some travelling, returns to Vaugarde to be a Menace.

He's also got some funny 'Craft Hands' that let him do things even when he has his hands in his cloak. These hands are also capable of conjuring wires/strings that allow him to physically bind/control people as an added bonus (For the Puppeteer motif) Watch the hands, Heroes!

But Wait, I thought The King Was Big, Why Isn't Stagemaster Big?

Because this tiny form isn't their 'true form'. THIS is what the Stagemaster ACTUALLY looks like, trapped in the House of Dormont by the Orb Door.

The Stagemaster...really isn't a person anymore. It's sort of debatable he was still human even before Big Mode. He can fly like this, and can control his cloak as though it's a part of himself (But he can still remove it) If you are looking at this going 'hey, he looks like a boss out of Kirby' then I did my job right. A theatre kid isn't very fun to watch unless seen, so, even before the Party gets to Dormont, it seemed fitting for SM to have a presence in Orbquest. So...Stagemaster controls a crafted avatar from afar - like playing a character in a game. There's a metaphor about disassociation from the self here. I personally love the idea of this nasty little guy interfering with the Orb Quest and antagonizing the Heroes - he is not NEARLY as powerful as his Big Form when he's Little Guy, so there's enough back and forth for Stagemaster to both be a threat, and also give some wiggle room for the Party to bully the Villain. Build up some rapport for funsies.

Stagemaster's a real piece of work. Imagine if Siffrin took all his self loathing, and then transformed that into outward loathing. If you took the WORST impulses from Loop and Act 5 Siffrin and put them in a blender, and then added a huge chip on his shoulder against the Universe, you might get the rancid creature you see here. Wet Meow Meow has transformed into a Feral Cat With Mange. And Rabies. And an impulsive urge to monologue. He doesn't even like puns!! Horrible!

The Party eventually calls him 'Smaster' for short before arriving in Dormont.

So if 'Siffrin' is in Kings place...Who or What is travelling with our beloved Party?

Meet Clovis (Named after an old King of Franks because I am very subtle). While Siffrin was a wet meow meow stray cat, Clovis is more a nervous dog. The King's explanation behind why he called himself The King seemed very utilitarian to me in ISAT, like he wanted to embody his role completely. So...here, Clovis puts all his eggs into his identity as 'Knight'. He doesn't serve anyone, he's just really into the idea of a brave, heroic persona. He's...very awkward and nervous, and often falls back onto 'what would a more brave, knightly sort do?' to make up for the fact his entire life was carved out of his skull with a spoon.

Look at this, took a perfectly good villain and made him a blorbo. Look at him, I gave him anxiety and sword autism. Like Siffrin, the party grows to love their weird wet dog. Mirabelle bonds over swords and anxious 'do it scared' behavior, Isabeau shares a 'battle bros'/'two bros sitting in a hot tub' dynamic, Bonnie treats him like a Substitute Teach ("yeah this is fine for kids c'mon lets go' 'uh, if you say so, boniface...') and Odile merrily bullies him (Paper beats rock)

Of course we need the Don Quixote reference. (He lost the fight, for the record.) Clovis is more than just a cute face, of course. Even he has his secrets.

Something is wrong here. Something wrong with him, maybe. Maybe he isn't supposed to be here.

Much like the King, Clovis also knows he's missing important things from his life, and has taken great effort (and personal injury) to keep what bits he can close to him - even when he really shouldn't.

The Party keeps Clovis from the Headache books not because they don't think they matter, but because the party doesn't want Clovis to hurt himself. They joke that he's an amnesiac prince from a far off land, but, well, at a certain angle, that's sort of the truth, isn't it? Clovis isn't a trap master like Siffrin, (or nearly as fast) but tends to walk as the lead of the Party because he's a Very Durable guy with some armor and protective Craft, so, any traps that explode in his face are easier to shrug off, and those that aren't...well, he's got quick reflexes.

But Wait! If The King is the looping hero, and Siffrin is the Big Evil Bad Guy, who does Clovis get as a Guide?

It's good ol' Loop! Our Loop, the Loopert we love and adore. SURPRISE! I fooled you!! This AU isn't meant to be a thought experiment, it's actually an overly elaborate way to give Loop as much psychic damage as physically possible!!

What's worse than having Another You take your place? Having a Tiny Version of your Nemesis take your place, earning the love and affection of your beloved family instead of you!

(They call him 'Princeling')

Needless to say, Loop and Clovis' dynamic is what we call in the scientific community fucking atrocious. Clovis wants to put his trust into this Guiding Star, and Loop is far, FAR worse to Clovis than Loop would be to a Siffrin. Loop may not be able to guess every single thought Clovis has, but any anxiety that is a reflection of Loop/Siffrin will be mercilessly picked apart with a smile. It's hate at first sight. At least Loop can take solace in the fact that Clovis is just as clueless as Loop/Siffrin was in their loops.

Clovis meanwhile is just intimidated. A guiding star of the universe?? And they hate him already??? 'Ohh...I really messed up already, haven't I? What'd I do???' Anyways, that's all for now. I just really wanted to get my initial brain worms out of my head and into the world. Please enjoy. If I do more posts like this, i'll prolly tag it as 'isat Kingswap au'. okay byyyyyyyyyeeeee thanks for reading! And thanks to the AU channel of the ISAT Discord for being so supportive of my brainrot!

[goldengalaxy99]

Finished the book and one thing I absolutely HATED is how Snow drags out Haymitch's torment. Once the games are over and Haymitch is forced into submission, Snow milks that shit for days on end. He puts him in a gilded cage!!!! And he makes him play the role of the good little propaganda puppet. All the while endlessly feeding him milk and bread. Snow is absolutely deranged

And he tries to do the same thing with Katniss. In catching fire, once she realizes the danger her loved ones are in, Katniss is ready to play the role of the puppet - to do everything she can to convince Snow and Panem.

Snow immediately starts puppeting her into this twisted, deranged image by having the capitol vote on her wedding dress and by making her wear it for the interviews.

But Cinna undermines all that! He frees Katniss from Snow's grasp and helps her reclaim her dignity. He transforms her from Snow's propaganda puppet into the greatest symbol of the rebellion. Cinna gives her wings to fly free... and it's the biggest fuck you to Snow

[thiccremoch]

TTRPG Question

Is the official transformers TTRPG actually good? I know it uses the same system as the other Hasbro toy brand ttrpgs, but I know shockingly little about it and am having difficulty finding good reviews for the system. Has anyone here played/read the system and have any solid opinions on it?

[hexhomos]

The 'Talis' hypothesis

So I think the S2 trailer confirms something central about Arcane I've wondered for a while. This has plot bearings to it, namely what nebulous purpose 'Magic' serves in the story -- how they're changing the role Hextech has in the game lore, incl. its power system & ruleset -- and what kind of hubris is associated with it historically. But it also answers something that has always nagged at me: why the fuck did they change Jayce's name?

So let's talk about this picture. And I'm going to give you the rosetta stone in 5 seconds:

This is Hextech now. Like that is just an incredibly concise and complete descriptor of Hextech-in-Arcane, right. It 'harms' Jinx, it 'protects' Jayce in the snowstorm, it 'heals' Viktor to a degree. It is installed permanently in architecture; the Hexgates ARE the brand.

First off, we have this fucker carrying around a talisman from back when he was 7, and the cinematography of the show agonizes over showing you this throughout all of ep2:

Jayce's bracelet is a bang-on definition of a historical talisman. The way hextech *functions* in the show is inextricable from the promises and rites associated with talismans, a word appropriated/popularized by the French - which I'm going to conservatively argue Fortiche would be familiar with;

Which brings me to the subject of what Hextech is, and how Hextech was changed for the tv show (and what its possibly being retconned to in the game)

Hex'tech' is not technology. The name is a carryover from a bygone era of leagueoflegends speak; Hextech in Arcane, and presumably in expanded lore going forward (given Skarner's rework and other things) - is the study, development, and the building of an industry around the craft of practical Talismans. If you want to understand how this shit works you need to promptly abandon the assumption that it is 'manufactured' magic -- its pure magic. It's raw magic. The tech part is a red herring misnomer.

The beliefs around this already cover links to 'the Arcane' as another, ethereal destination realm with Inhabitants that learn and change, ontop of rune-carving as magical instruction;

This also covers Viktor's impending transformation and the changes made to his character.

IN MY OPINION, via the content released so far and what we've already witnessed in S1, Viktor has been shifted away from becoming 'the machine herald' and re-positioned to become the Herald of Divine Rune Alchemy or whichever name they end up using.

I don't doubt that he'll get the armor at some point, because that's a recognizable visual and as much fanservice as they owe his decade-long fans, but... I would temper my expectations around the thought of machine evolution. It's not what this Viktor does, and it's not what he (or the narrative,) is interested in -- My guess is that the armor comes into play as a secondary way to AVOID overusing limited magical power, as we've seen runes can be depleted, and the hexcore tends to kill things in exchange.

Now that we've established all that, here is the bridge that I'm going to sell you.

Now, for today's homework, I expect you to run off to do something useful and homoerotic with this information.

[meadowfics]

new director

namgyu x f!onlyfans!reader

this is a part two to my namgyu fic linked here

warnings: minors do not interact. 18+, smut. sex work involved and included in this fic. vulgar dialogue. switch!namgyu. switch!reader. vocal namgyu. p in v unprotected. breeding kink.

a year has flown by since you and namgyu became partners, both as a couple who happened to grow as each other's best friend as well. everything has clicked into place.

you’re still fantasygalaxy on onlyfans, your online empire thriving with subscribers who can’t get enough of your photos, videos, and sultry voice calls.

the money’s steady and flowing (big bank ayyy), the work’s fun, and you’ve got it locked down. there is never in-person stuff, just digital seduction from the safety of your penthouse.

namgyu was the one exception, the only guy who’s ever crossed that line from screen to reality. he’s cool with your hustle, never bats an eye when you spend nights filming, transforming into whatever role your fans are craving.

thats one great thing about your boyfriend, he respects you outside of this work. he loves you as y/n, even though he appreciates fantasygalaxy too.

sometimes he is there just off camera, watching you while he’s still pentagon.gyu. he loves throwing cash at your content like it’s a game.

he does it half to support you, half to mess with you, like he’s staking his claim as your number-one fan.

“I gotta keep the algorithm happy,” he’ll joke, but you know he loves it. early on, you both set a hard rule: he stays out of your videos. no appearances, no hints of a boyfriend.

your subscribers, especially the men and gay women, would lose it if they knew you were taken, and neither of you wants to tank your income over some drama.

you’ve built something solid with namgyu.

it’s not just sex, though there’s plenty of that, it’s coffee runs, late-night takeout, him teaching you how to play some dumb video game while you laugh at his nerdy excitement.

he’s your boyfriend, your bestfriend, and it’s weirdly normal despite how you met.

still, you keep your worlds separate: fantasygalaxy is for the fans, but namgyu’s for you.

one night, you’re prepping to film, hyped for a new role-play you’ve been teasing on your page. you’re going full naughty housecleaner—think skimpy black dress, frilly apron, thigh-high stockings, maybe a feather duster for extra flair.

you’re arranging your setup in the living room, candles flickering for ambiance, when disaster strikes.

your tripod, that trusty piece of junk you’ve been meaning to replace, snaps in half mid-adjustment.

“are you fucking kidding me?” you shout, hurling the broken legs across the room. they clatter against the wall, and you’re fuming, pacing like a caged animal.

“this is just my luck tonight.”

namgyu’s sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone, one eyebrow raised at your outburst.

“ you good? what’d the tripod do to deserve that?” he’s teasing, but when he sees the genuine frustration in your eyes, he sits up, tossing his phone aside.

“okay, for real, what’s the problem? you look like you’re about to set it on fire.”

you groan, slumping against the table.

“it’s fucked. i was supposed to film tonight and I promised a big post, got everyone hyped, and now my setup’s ruined.” you kick at the broken pieces for emphasis.

“i can’t just hold the phone myself. it’ll look like amateur hour.”

he stands, stretching, and walks over, nudging the wreckage with his foot.

“so what’s the move? you canceling?” you shake your head, chewing your lip.

“no way. i’ll lose momentum if i skip. i just… ugh, i don’t know.” then it hits you, and you look at him, eyes narrowing with an idea.

“actually… you could help.”

he freezes, hands halfway into his pockets.

“help? like, what, hold your props or something? i’m not getting in your videos, y/n. we agreed since I don't need weirdos to come into club pentagon and jump my ass.” you laugh, waving him off.

“not like that, relax. i mean film. hold the phone, get the angles, be my director. you stay behind the camera, no one sees you, no one knows. you could be a friend for all they know.” he blinks, processing, then a slow grin spreads across his face.

“director, huh? you trying to put me to work now?” you step closer, poking his chest, voice dropping playfully.

“come on, it’ll be fun. you get to boss me around for once, and i’ll… make it worth your while later.”

he’s sold, eyes glinting, “deal. but i’m not going easy on you. i want oscar or daejong worthy shit.”

you snort, already heading to change, “yeah, yeah. just don’t drop my phone.”

you slip into your outfit with a tight black dress that barely covers your ass, lacy apron tied loose, stockings gripping your thighs just right.

the tattoos on your arm, those starry swirls namgyu’s obsessed with, peek out as you adjust the straps. you catch him staring as you step back into the room, and he clears his throat, picking up your phone like it’s a lifeline.

“fuck, you look…” he trails off, shaking his head.

“nevermind, let’s just do this before i lose it.”

you tweak the role-play on the fly. instead of a solo housecleaner bit, you pitch a new angle: you’re a maid who’s slacking off, and the

“director”—namgyu, behind the camera—catches you, ordering you to make up for it with a show. it’s perfect. he’s involved without showing his face, just his voice barking commands to sell the fantasy, and you can play off it without breaking your no-boyfriend rule.

“so,” you say, twirling the duster, “i’m lazy, you’re pissed, and i gotta make it right. sound good?”

he nods, already in director mode, “yeah, but you better sell it. i’m not holding this thing for nothing.”

you start filming, and it’s electric from the jump. you saunter over to a table, bending low to “dust,” your dress riding up to flash your panties—black lace, a fan favorite.

you glance at namgyu, and holy shit, he’s struggling. the poor man's joggers are doing a bad job hiding his boner, the outline of his dick clear as day, but you bite your lip and stay focused.

“is this good, sir?” you purr, dragging the duster slow across the table, arching your back for the shot. his voice comes rough from behind the phone.

“not good enough. you’re slacking... make it worth my time.”

it’s hot, the way he’s leaning into it, and you’re feeding off his energy.

you strip halfway, peeling the dress off to reveal a matching bra and panties, tossing the apron aside like it’s an afterthought. you climb onto the table, crawling slow, letting your hips sway as you look at the camera...not at namgyu, but it’s hard not to when you know he’s right there.

“better?” you ask, spreading your thighs just enough to tease.

“keep going,” he says, and you catch the strain in his tone.

“you’re not done till i say so.” you roll onto your back, trailing your hands down your stomach, stopping short of anything too explicit.

it’s a tease, not a finale, and you want to keep the fans begging. you slide off the table, straddling a chair, running your fingers along your thighs, smirking as you hear namgyu shift, probably adjusting himself.

“cut,” he finally says, voice like gravel, and you’re on him in seconds. you snatch the phone, toss it onto the floor somewhere, and crash your lips into his, climbing into his lap.

he groans, hands flying to your hips, pulling you flush against him.

“what the hell, y/n.. stop teasing me?” he pants, already grinding up into you. you can feel him through the joggers, hard and throbbing, and it’s driving you wild.

“tease?” you murmur, biting his lip.

“i’m about to give you everything, baby.”

you slide off him, tugging his joggers down, and his cock springs free... thick, leaking, begging for you. you don’t hesitate, you climb over his lap and sink down onto him right there on the floor, his length stretching you in that perfect, aching way.

“oh, fuck, yes,” you gasp, rolling your hips as he grabs your ass, thrusting up hard.

“fuck you’re such a desperate little slut,” he growls, voice dripping with venom, “couldn’t even wait to post that video, huh? needed my dick right fucking now.”

you laugh, clenching around him, making him hiss.

“talk all you want, namgyu, but you’re mine. i can ride this cock whenever i damn well please and you know that.. you let me every time.”

he’s losing it, hands roaming your back, your thighs, like he can’t get enough.

“shit, you’re so fucking soaked,” he moans, slamming up into you.

“I love watching you work for those losers online, but this? this is all mine.” you lean forward, nails digging into his shoulders, voice sharp.

"ahhh-- fuck! its all yours.”

it’s vulgar, messy, skin slapping as you fuck him hard, chasing that high.

“you love it, don’t you?” you taunt, slowing your hips just to mess with him, “knowing you went fro being one of them to being the only one who gets to fill me up.”

he’s close, you can tell since his thrusts are sloppy, desperate, and he’s cursing under his breath. you’re right there with him, but you try to hold off, squeezing around him to drag it out.

“don’t you fucking dare,” he snarls, catching your game, “don’t hold what i’m trying to get out of you.”

he thrusts harder, deeper, and it’s game over...you’re cumming, a sharp cry ripping from your throat as your body locks up, pleasure crashing through you.

he’s right behind, groaning your name as he finishes inside you, hot and thick, spilling inside of your walls until you’re trembling.

you collapse against him, both of you gasping, sweaty, wrecked. Namgyu's arms wrap around you, loose but warm, and he kisses your shoulder, muttering, “holy shit!”

you laugh, still catching your breath, head resting against his chest, “you’re not bad for a first-time director.” he smirks, already cocky again.

“give me a week, i’ll have you nominated for best actress.” you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling, content to stay there for a minute, his cum still warm inside you, feeling like the world’s just you and him inside of a studio... when in reality it is just your sky-rise penthouse.

masterlist

[fandom]

Hello, Monday.

Kendrick Lamar is still trending hard, mostly due to many of you diving deep and discussing the political artistry of his Super Bowl performance. In other news, role-playing gacha game Cookie Run: Kingdom has released another code for free stuff, and the haul is pretty massive. The 2025 Sanremo Music Festival has come to a close with its usual pomp and circumstance, and season 3 of Yellowjackets began with a double-episode extravaganza on Friday, coinciding with Valentine's Day, which was also just a Friday to many of us. This is Tumblr's Week in Review.

Artists on Tumblr

Kendrick Lamar

Valentine's Day

Arcane

Super Bowl LIX

Sonic the Hedgehog | Sonic the Hedgehog

Jayvik | Jayce Talis & Viktor, Arcane

Shadow the Hedgehog | Sonic the Hedgehog

Sonadow | Sonic & Shadow, Sonic the Hedgehog

Jayce Talis | Arcane

US Politics

Viktor | Arcane

Yellowjackets

Transformers

Sanremo Music Festival 2025

Batman

Cats of Tumblr

Cookie Run: Kingdom

Severance

Twitter

[cursedcola]

Discussion: "The Prophecy of Twisted Godhood" <- A reimagining of Twisted Wonderland through Greek Mythology. Where instead of a world based on Disney - Yuu is sent to a school meant to train demigods in another realm. Dormitories: Heartslabyul (here) || Savanaclaw || Octavanille || Scarabia || Pomefiore || Ignihyde || Diasomnia || Ramshackle (full lore and main plot outline) || Others Notes: Hey everyone - believe it or not, this was the original idea back when I started working on my TWST otome. I went a more traditional route since I wanted more of an immersive product...but I still have all of these ideas, y'know? So why not share them since I won't be making it into a game. Character designs and comics might come if i ever want to add more

Premise: The Prophecy of the Gods’ Reawakening

At NRC on the Isle of Gods, a prestigious institution built upon the ruins of ancient temples, Yuu (the protagonist) is just another student. However, Yuu’s, a supposed ‘godless human’, arrival is no accident—there’s an ancient prophecy surrounding them that foretells the fall of all gods, threatening the balance between the mortal and divine worlds.

The gods, once all-powerful, are losing their grip over their domains. Their children, the demigods, have become restless, each facing the expectations of their divine parentage while undergoing trials at NRC. The mortals are unaware of the ancient forces at play, but Yuu is caught in the center of this storm by ‘chance’ with no power to return to their realm. As they unravel the ties between the demigods, Yuu discovers that their very existence could either restore the gods' reign or bring about their ultimate downfall.

The students of Night Raven College, in this realm known as Nether Realms College, split into seven dormitories, each reflect different aspects of the divine legacy that they inherit. Each dorm conflict mirrors a myth or curse, and Yuu must navigate these volatile relationships and broken alliances, all while uncovering their own mysterious divine heritage.

Heartslabyul - The Realm of Judgment and Destiny

Heartslabyul's - renamed 'Themantica' Dormitory - central conflict revolves around the battle between order and chaos, justice and mercy, hard work and inherited power. The dorm will undergo a transformation as its members grow to understand that their godly traits do not define them, but how they choose to wield those traits in a world on the brink of power usurpation is what truly matters. Yuu becomes the catalyst for reform, teaching them that while their divine parentage shapes them, their choices define who they will become.

Riddle Rosehearts – Child of Themis (Goddess of Justice)

Reasoning: Riddle Rosehearts is deeply connected to Themis, the titaness of divine order, justice, and law. Themis is the embodiment of fairness and law, often depicted with scales, which resonates with Riddle’s strict adherence to rules and his sense of justice, though Riddle also learns that true fairness isn’t always found in rigid systems.

Connection: Themis represents the legalistic and moral code that Riddle so rigidly follows, making her a perfect fit for him. Or rather, a perfect fit for his mother. His buried personal feelings about his role as a demigod are another story.

Conflict: Riddle Rosehearts' devotion to order, justice, and the enforcement of rules mirrors the divine influence of Themis. As the dorm leader, Riddle’s strict enforcement of rules represents his own attempt to uphold the ideal of justice in a chaotic world. However, the prophecy that ties Yuu to the fate of the gods will challenge Riddle’s worldview. As the gods’ powers begin to weaken, Riddle will confront the truth that blind obedience to law can lead to harm, and that compassion and flexibility must sometimes replace absolute fairness.

Tension with Yuu: At first, Riddle views Yuu as a disruptive force to the carefully ordered environment of Heartslabyul. Yuu, being unaware of their own divine parentage, challenges Riddle’s rigidity with their natural tendency to understand situations in shades of gray. Yuu's tendency to question authority and find balance between rules and fairness will force Riddle to confront the flaws in his belief system.

Resolution: Through their relationship, Riddle learns that true justice comes not from strict adherence to law, but from considering the greater good and acting with compassion. Yuu helps him realize that mercy is as important as law.

Trey Clover – Eldest Son of Demeter (Goddess of the Harvest)

Reasoning: Trey Clover, the thoughtful, responsible, and nurturing member of Heartslabyul, fits well with Demeter, the goddess of agriculture, harvest, and the home. Trey is dependable, grounded, and often takes on the caretaker role within his dorm. Much like Demeter’s nurturing presence, Trey ensures others’ needs are met and provides stability. He also has a calm demeanor that makes him approachable and supportive—qualities that resonate with Demeter’s ability to protect and nurture those under her care.

Connection: Both Trey and Demeter represent stability, nurturing, and responsibility, offering support to those around them.

Conflict: Trey Clover embodies the nurturing and stabilizing influence of Demeter, the goddess of the harvest and the home. Trey is the responsible caretaker of the dorm, often stepping into the role of peacemaker and advisor. However, the divine chaos wrought by the prophecy forces him to question how much he can protect others from the encroaching disaster. Demeter’s loss of influence over the harvest in the world will affect Trey’s ability to care for others, and he may feel powerless to prevent the unraveling of the world around him.

Tension with Yuu: Trey is highly protective of Yuu, as they are a triggering force that may push Riddle over the teetering edge, but struggles with a deep sense of helplessness. Yuu is an uninvolved party to the gods’ warfare, and Trey’s connection to Demeter places them in a Persephone-esque position. Yuu’s inevitable involvement in the prophecy raises the question of whether even his powers to nurture can stop what’s coming. Yuu becomes a mirror for Trey to understand that change is inevitable, and that sometimes, allowing things to grow in a different form is necessary for survival.

Resolution: Trey will come to accept that nurturing isn’t always about protecting people from harm, but rather about guiding them through transitions and supporting them as they face their own challenges. Yuu's growth into their role will help Trey understand that not all things are meant to stay the same forever.

Cater Diamond – Son of Eros (God of Love)

Reasoning: Cater Diamond is a fun-loving, social, and self-aware character with a deep connection to social media and capturing the moment. His energetic, attention-grabbing personality aligns well with Eros, the god of love and desire, who often brings people together in unexpected ways. Eros also represents a playful, seductive force, much like Cater’s ability to charm and captivate those around him, while his social media savvy connects to Eros' symbolic role in the pursuit of connection and attraction.

Connection: The playful, charismatic, and communicative nature of both Cater and Eros makes them a fitting pair.

Conflict: Cater Diamond’s connection to Eros, the god of love and desire, makes him a natural at influencing relationships and connecting people. His charming, flirtatious demeanor is a reflection of Eros’ ability to manipulate and inspire love in others. However, the prophecy forces Cater to confront the darker side of love—the obsessive, destructive, and manipulative nature that Eros’ power can also wield. As the gods’ power wanes, Cater begins to question whether his relationships with others are genuine, or if they’re merely the result of his ability to manipulate emotions.

Tension with Yuu: At first, Cater views Yuu as a puzzle to solve, someone who doesn’t seem easily swayed by charm or emotional manipulation. Yuu’s sincerity and ability to build genuine relationships challenge Cater to rethink his approach to love. As the prophecy nears its fulfillment, Yuu will show Cater that love can’t be controlled—it must be earned, nurtured, and given freely.

Resolution: Cater learns to let go of his need for attention and approval, realizing that true love is built on honesty, trust, and vulnerability, not manipulation. Yuu’s example shows him the power of real connection.

Ace Trappola – Son of Hermes (God of Trickery, Travel, and Communication)

Reasoning: Hermes, the god of trickery, travel, and communication, is known for his mischievous and playful personality. Ace, with his witty, rebellious nature and tendency to bend the rules, fits perfectly with Hermes' persona. Ace’s love for teasing others, his knack for getting out of tricky situations, and his ability to charm those around him makes him a natural fit for the god who’s always up to something playful and clever. His impulsive behavior also echoes Hermes’ swift, often unpredictable actions.

Connection: Ace’s wit, humor, and trickster nature align closely with the god of mischief and communication, Hermes.

Conflict: Ace Trappola is the embodiment of Hermes, the god of trickery, communication, and mischief. Ace’s constant need for attention, his love of pranks, and his manipulative nature align with Hermes’ playful and unpredictable qualities. However, as the gods lose their influence over the mortal world, Ace becomes aware that his tricks and quick wit may not be enough to navigate the complexities of the prophecy and the divine conflict. He must confront his own immaturity and selfishness, realizing that his usual tricks can’t solve the problems at hand.

Tension with Yuu: Ace sees Yuu as a challenge—someone who isn’t easily fooled or controlled. Yuu's ability to act with intention and thoughtfulness challenges Ace's impulsive nature. Yuu’s steadiness and willingness to make the hard decisions will force Ace to realize that his cleverness doesn’t always get him what he wants. He must learn that sometimes, real communication is about honesty, not manipulation.

Resolution: Ace will eventually come to appreciate the value of genuine connection and purposeful action. Yuu will help him see that trickery can’t always be the solution—it’s the truth and action that hold power.

Deuce Spade – Youngest Son of Hephaestus (God of Craftsmanship and Fire)

Reasoning: Hephaestus, the god of craftsmanship, fire, and hard work, is known for his dedication and loyalty. Deuce Spade shares many of these traits with his strong sense of duty, determination, and earnestness. Deuce is not a naturally gifted student, but through effort and perseverance, he works hard to overcome his challenges. Much like Hephaestus, who labored tirelessly to create his masterpieces, Deuce is a character defined by his commitment to improvement and his willingness to push through struggles.

Connection: The hardworking, earnest, and somewhat awkward nature of Deuce mirrors Hephaestus' perseverance and determination in the face of adversity.

Conflict: Deuce Spade is a reflection of Hephaestus, the god of craftsmanship, fire, and hard work. Deuce is driven by an earnest desire to prove himself through his effort and dedication. He is a diligent student who values hard work over innate talent. However, the prophecy forces Deuce to question his own worth. The struggle for divine recognition, along with the looming sense that all their hard work might be in vain, challenges Deuce to confront his belief in the value of toil. Can hard work truly protect the world from the prophecy’s wrath, or will they need something more than mere craftsmanship?

Tension with Yuu: Deuce’s strong work ethic and determination to be the best often put him in direct opposition to Yuu, who may not have the same motivations or views on hard work. He sees them as a possible connection to better understand human-kind and learn socially acceptable mannerisms. Yet their nonchalant outlook on the school’s way of teaching demigods has him question the ‘right path’ – which Deuce finally thought he found.  Yuu might remind him that effort alone is not always enough to overcome challenges—sometimes, one must rely on intuition, teamwork, or emotional resilience to succeed.

Resolution: Deuce learns that true strength doesn’t just come from hard work, but from the ability to adapt, trust others, and remain flexible. Yuu teaches him that it’s okay to rely on others and embrace different strategies to solve problems. That there is a balance between good and bad – perfection and rebellion.