#vexed viewer

[sevenofreds]

[iamafanofcartoons]

Just when I thought that Vexed Viewer couldn’t get any worse as a RWBY “critic”, he pulled a Hero Hei by making a livestream today about how RTX 2024 is going to be cancelled, with the thumbnail being a clickbait alarmist title saying that it’s the “beginning of the end” for RT. For those of you who didn’t know (like Vexed, who evidently couldn’t be bothered to do the research), the Austin convention center that RTX is usually held in is going to be shut down next year in preparation for a demolition, reconstruction, and expansion project that’s starting in 2025, and has a projected end date in 2028. Obviously RT needs some time to find a new convention center in Texas (or possibly another state) to hold RTX at, and as any convention organizer will tell you, that’s easier said than done. Considering that Vexed is an engineer by trade, I find it baffling that he ignored the importance of proper research.

If you're going to make clickbait, rage bait, etc?

Or a hate video?

Ignore details, take things out of context, and exaggerate other matters.

Then all that matters if that your followers will believe and defend anything you say so long as it sounds nice and appeals to their hatred and echo chambers of hate.

IRL examples are the Republican Party, ironically.

This isn't just RWBY. This is about influencers in Real Life.

Its gotten so bad, that Twitter actually does Community Notes to call out the lies of people on both the left and right.

A pity that Youtube cannot have such a thing.

[mostlyanything19]

Boy this show is getting BETTER

[bougainvilea]

i want to make one of rhose top 5 polls but im not sure i have 5 characters that (a) i could pick and say they are my favs and (b) that people would know

[authorellasallow]

The Sallow List

pairing(s): Sebastian Sallow x Reader

words: 6.3k

summary: Sebastian Sallow sneaks into your dormitory and finds a list hidden in your bed, one filled with names of girls who want him. All except yours.

When you find him reading the list, offended and curious, he decides to prove exactly why your name belongs at the top.

warnings: contains nudity, sexual themes and mature content that is not advised for younger viewers. descriptive smut. sebastian being competive and possesive. idiots in love. all characters are aged up!

a/n: you could also find this Ao3 too.

dedicated to @kelseyreads22 for the light peer pressure. and my discord peeps for never failing to support the stupid feral shit we all just agree with all the time lmao. you could join us for laughs and content here's the link too. enjoy xx

“What?”

Sebastian Sallow sat mortified on the edge of your neatly made bed. A crumpled parchment with scribbled writings clenched on his hand, still in a blend of a confused and deafening expression.

He hadn’t planned to be there, in your dormitory. Let alone, holding his find. He’d only planned to enter your common room and ask for something, but when he saw the dormitory door slightly ajar, curiosity took the best of him.

And he knew the parchment was yours. It was your bed. It smelled like you — the faint hints of your scent that had lured him in since your arrival the fifth year.

The stemming scent that kept him up late nights when the wind slept and his mind didn’t.

The thought alone ticked Sebastian, and he brought his senses up, his eyes flickering back on the bloody list.

Yes, a list.

Girls. Every name written like some twisted Quidditch scoreboard.

Some from every house, some he’d recognized, and some that he never expected to see there.

The most quietest ones held the most pride in signing this list.

The Sallow List

Sebastian didn’t need much context behind it. The doodles beside the signatures were enough.

— Cressida Blume,  his hair looks really soft

— Gracie, his voice?? His moans are probably so deep.

— C. Greengrass, his lips are so pink. They have to be kissable!!!!

— Lenora, I seen how fast his fingers move when he has a quill…what else could they do?

“Ergh,”

It felt invasive to read, but it was a list about him. Curiosity ran thick in his blood, especially on something about him. Something that was in your property.

A slow, vexed frown began to form on his face after re-reading the scribbles. The thickset of his brows furrowed as he looked for one name in particular. Yours.

You weren’t on it.

It felt too ironic for him to know you held this list in your belongings, yet, no evidence of you was there.

He even flipped it over, then back again, convinced he might’ve possibly missed it, knowing you and your small writing he often made fun of — but you weren’t on the list.

And it bothered Sebastian’s ego.

All these girls wanting to snog him, but the one whose bed he was currently sitting on; the one he’s seeking wasn’t among the names.

How annoying — how pesty of you to orchestrate such a thing like this and not be on it.

“Typical,” Sebastian murmured to himself. You always knew how to wind him up without even fucking trying — always with him, but still out of reach after all these years.

The pulse trip you gave him of endless ventures he’d spend with you. The almost ‘what-if’s’ but too cowardly to admit, so instead, he’d spend his growth cycles just wanking himself with your scent and hoping for the best.

The consequence? Your name not being on the list.

You entered breathlessly into your dormitory without notice. Everyone had gone to Hogsmeade for the weekend, including yourself, but you’d forgotten your coin pouch, so you ran back.

When the door swung shut, your steps creaked toward your side before finally finding the person in your space.

“Oh, shit—Sebastian?”

You weren’t even phased by his arrival. The patterns you’d learned about the Slytherin man throughout the years stuck with you, so his presence wasn’t ghostly.

What was ghostly was looking at the crumbled parchment you had sworn was hidden well beneath your pillow, now sitting still over his long fingers, in his possession.

Oh shit.

The list.

The fucking list.

Sebastian didn’t flinch. Hell, he didn’t even bother to act like he’d been in trouble. He had mastermind too many times getting caught by Scribner — but with you finding out he found the list? He just threw a smirk.

“W-What are you doing? Where did you find—“ You didn’t mean to stutter, but the list was a limited item you hid from him for years. An inside joke he now knew about.

The titled smirk didn’t fade from his face. You saw how his eyes laid on the parchment, the wrinkly freckled skin over his lids squinting as he spoke. “Wasn’t aware this was part of the female’s newsletter.”

Your heart dropped, but you passed your saliva and wind a hand up, using a non-verbal Accio spell to get the parchment out of his hands.

Sebastian curved your spell and snatched the paper back to himself.

“Hey,” Your feet worked again, and inched closer to him on your bed, wanting to get the paper from him. “Give me that!”

With a smooth motion, Sebastian stood up from your bed rapidly, and of course, with his ridiculous height advantage, he lifted the parchment enough out of your reach.

“I don’t think so.”

He was tall. And even with the swift motion of holding the parchment upward, you could sniff the manly scent as you tippy-toed a jump to grab it, but it was a fail.

“What is this, eh?” Sebastian asked you.

A blow transmitted out of you mid-dormitory. Your cheeks had been tomato red by now and you’d hope Sebastian didn’t notice the trickle of sweat outlining your forehead as you ignored his question.

“Seriously, Sallow,” You jumped again, but he was ridiculously taller than you. “—give me—“

His gaze was gawking at you. You’d known he was directing his attention at you for an answer, but you’d been busy wanting to take away the list on his hand. “You’re dodging my question.”

“It’s just a stupid list. It’s a joke.” You lied.

It wasn’t really a lie. It started a little after the sixth. Snogging began to occur often in the secretive halls of Hogwarts, and rumored lists would often lure. Considering you were the closest to Sebastian Sallow, one drunk night with the girls led to the list. Thanks to you.

A strange scoff emitted from him. “Oh yeah?” He cooed. There been a roughness in his playful voice that made you feel challenged. He’d always been manipulative for answers, but you didn’t want to give it to him today.

You scratched your forehead with your fingers with a sigh, surrendering to grab the item, and then faced Sebastian.

Both of your eyes met.

It hadn’t been fair really. Besides the height — it was foul to see how stupidly attractive the Sallow man truly was.

A few strands of his brown hair flopped over his forehead, nearly covering the brown eyes that peered at you.

You’d seen him more than any of those girls on the list. None of them were this close to him though. They didn’t manage to see the freckles that kissed the top of his cheeks, or how the color of his brown eyes turned lighter like honey in the light.

You've seen him so much, you could debunk the notes in that list. ‘I want to touch his clear skin’ one would say — but it was flawed with scars that only one would see up close. ‘His lips are so pink, he would be a good kisser’ you couldn’t debunk that, yet.

You passed your saliva, “Why are you stirred up, Sallow? If you read the list, your ego should probably be the size of a quaffle by now.” You spat, crossing your arms and breaking the eye-contact. You only stared at the dent he left on your bed from sitting long.

Sebastian had been in another state though. Not enough names could boost his ego in that fucking list. Not any compliments, not any assumptions — anything, but the one name that wasn’t there.

Wanting to avoid any tension, you began to pace around the space, focusing on what you really came in here for, your coin bag, and pretending like you hadn’t done this cut-off every time there was tension with you and him.

The friendship had been strong. You two have seen the worst and the best out of each other. In battles, in class, in parties — one thing would lead to another, but when there was a hint of something more, usually one pulled away or one became a coward.

“Ugh, where is that damn bag—“

“Does the creator of the list exclude themselves from it?” Sebastian asked.

He stood in the same spot, asking questions, but also watching you waste time to find the coin pouch. He was desperate for an answer. An answer that he wanted to hear and his scheme of manipulation took over. Sebastian wasn’t going to stop until he got it.

You chuckled, “Who said I created it?” Your body bent, going through some drawers at the end of the dormitory.

You were a bit far, but you heard the chuckle from him. It resonated more when nobody else, but you two were the only ones in the dormitory.

“I don’t know, let’s see,” Sebastian said, but there was a tip of annoyance in his tone as he projected his truth to you. “ I found it in your bed. Your pillow. And I know your handwriting by now. The title of the list — it’s your writing.” He pointed his finger at the bolded letters.

You froze at how attentive he’d been. It shouldn’t come off as a surprise, but you had to pause your hand digging in your drawer and blink at his words. There, you stood in place, turning slowly over your shoulder and glinting. “What’s your point?”

Sebastian was pissed at how calmly you took this matter. It was only proving that you really did not care about him finding the list as much as he imagined you to. This ticked him off because he was good with girls. He understood why there was a list. He had his way of words to lure and hypnotize them, but you?

The parchment crackled under his grip and you heard it far and clear but didn’t comment. The list became useless at this point if the main ingredient of it found it.

“My point?”

The Adam's apple in his throat moved a little heavier in visual view, but you didn’t notice because your head turned back to the drawer.

But your heart was beating fast. You’d learn throughout the years to avoid conflict. To hide away your real feelings, so to battle such a topic with someone like Sebastian Sallow — it was tough.

“Sebastian, you have like half of Hogwarts tallied up on that list and you’re still complaining?” You snarled, closing the drawer and taking a breath, your coin pouch nowhere to be found.

“All I’m wondering is why your name didn’t make the list.” He said bluntly.

This caught you now. The need to look for your item died down and all you could do was turn to him.

Sebastian held his stand in the same spot you left him in. In the side of your dormitory bed, the list no longer in the air from his height, but on his side, crumbled up in madness.

You swallowed, your steps taking tardiness as you approached him again.

Only you knew the truth, but the least you could’ve done was sign your name. The risks of prioritizing your feelings first rather than wanting to keep a friendship with Sebastian Sallow were high. You were not going to risk it again.

“My name?” You laughed it off, looking to the side. “Why the hell would my name be there?”

Sebastian didn’t laugh. You didn’t even hear a wince of a scoff or chuckle. He wasn’t matching your energy, so you stopped looking to the side and looked up.

There was a grave expression on his face. Those honey-like eyes you were admiring minutes back became dawn darkness from your words and you raised your brows at him.

Sebastian tilted his head a little and blinked with a mocking questioning. “Am I not your type?”

A nervous laugh spilled out of you. It was not funny. It was more of a laugh of hiding away the truth. You could no longer tell if he was teasing as he always was with himself, or demanding truth.

“Are you being serious?”

“I am.” He narrowed.

The air thickened, but you pursed your lips and then pressed them with a hesitant nod. “I just—I—“ you didn’t mean to stutter, but it was getting to you. “We’re…we’re friends,…and…and…”

“You’d known me more than anyone else in this castle, more than Ominis. I’d guess to boost my ego you could’ve written down a few compliments or so in this list to help. Don’t you think?”

You gulped.

Sebastian stepped closer, barely a hand’s length now between the two of you. He’d now begged himself for you to self-confess. Perhaps, it’s become a mutual feeling now, but you were a hard rock to break. It was impossible.

“And then what, Sallow?” You weren’t afraid of his closeness. You have been close to him many times, but even with an empty room with so much space, this one killed you. “Be part of this list too?”

His jaw clenched at your words. It wasn’t even a tease. You were just asking a question as you stared, but it still bothered him. It wasn’t enough.

“Am I not fuckable enough for you?”

It hadn’t even been a joke anymore. There was no cracked smug over his mouth. No glint in his eyes. Just a cold sting of frustration, pride, and something lower — something he didn’t want to admit.

As he asked that, the same list he had crumbled in his fingers crackled under both of you.

Your breaths were higher now and even if you wanted to take your eyes off him, you couldn’t. There was this appalling appearance in you from his question and you knew by now that he’d taken notice of how your chest raised in and out from the nerves.

“I bet if this list said Weasley, your signature would’ve been the first on top, wouldn’t it?” Sebastian dug now. There was a possessive and impulsive timbre in his voice. He hated mentioning the redhead, but he couldn’t stop himself.

Your eyes widened, not expecting him to cross lines now, unplanned. “Are you out of your mind?”

Sebastian’s breath shifted, slower and heavier from your reaction. He looked like he wanted to respond, but it caught between his teeth.

Your eyes glazed on his, then on his flushed cheeks. The little tint of pink that lay on his sides wasn’t there and before you could question anything, you twirled, walking away. “Whatever, Sallow. Just go have fun with the list of names—“

The steps you took from your bed to the door didn’t make it far. Sebastian moved fast, but your Ancient Magic moved faster, sensing his follow and before he could make a stop on you, you turned around facing him.

On unfortunate luck, he’d been close enough for you to step backward and feel your back touch the wall from behind. You took a heavy breath, watching Sebastian lift an arm over your shoulder, flatly on the wall beside you, and bend to stare down.

He’d caged you, so you wouldn’t leave as both of your heights reached the same scale.

It’s like his stare burned into you. Only the sound of his breath blew on your nose from how close he had been. You watched how he lifted his right hand in slow motion, wanting you to watch him show you the crumbled list in his grasp.

The list was fucked at this point. From his anger.

“You think I give two fucks about the names on this list?” He asked you.

You were staring at the paper, but even with that, you sensed his stare stalling at you with every word he said.

The air on the empty setting tightened now. That little humor you were bringing on earlier set off and now things felt serious.

“It’s…it’s a lot of names in there, Sallow.” Your throat itched demanding a sentence to him, but his breath seemed to win over.

“And yours?” Sebastian asked, again. He didn’t back off. He stayed closed, watching you like the truth was buried behind your words.

Your eyes met the frame of his jawline. It’ll pinch with his questions and you weren’t brave enough to stare into his eyes anymore.

But Sebastian didn’t hold his limits anymore. He stepped closer, much closer than he’d ever dared, and lowered right in the inch of your earlobe, his lips brushing on the outline and you shivered.

“What do I have to do,” He murmured in a deliberate struggle. “—to make you write your name in this list?”

The whisper held you under your skin now. This tension coiled between the two of you and the restraint in his voice only made you clenched, not in your throat, but in your core. You’d been afraid if you pressed your legs together, it’d clench faster from his position.

“S-Sebastian…”

“Tell me,” He demanded. “I’d spent the last years doing enough to think you’ll write your signature in such a list about me, yet,” his breath blew inside your ears. “…it wasn’t enough.”

You’d always had your eyes prying on Sebastian Sallow, since the fifth year, but the blockage of friendship and comfortableness layered it.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t enough.

It was that you’d never dared to let yourself want him openly — because if you did…it would never be just 'wanting'.

“Do I have to prove it to you?” Sebastian’s voice cracked over the last word. It sounded like a prayer. To have this blessing of allowing him to take this to his advantage.

Sebastian struggled. He struggled enough in the past years. He couldn’t keep holding back on this very moment. It had been enough in the cycle, and this frustration of rejection — he couldn’t stand it. Not from you.

He couldn’t stand how you stood below him, innocently, pretending like not one inappropriate thought crossed your bloody head this entire time, but he liked a challenge.

There was this competitive thrill for Sebastian Sallow to prove himself right. To have this source of ability to prove something. Persuading something — persuading you.

Pleasuring you.

His nose kept tickling over your ear, and he took the benefit of that scent of yours. To smell the small strands of your hair behind the ear as he kept his eyes closed, waiting for an answer, but also holding in the strained hardness that flexed over his pants below.

His cock twitched with every breath of yours.

“Speak up, sweetheart.” He said roughly, not having the great ability to hold back, but your lack of answers were edging him. “We could answer all those assumptions about me in this,” with one hand he un-crumbled the list again and brought it to your eyes. “…list.”

He was silly, but the butterfly feeling between your legs at the moment said otherwise from his intense tease.

“You don’t wonder how my fingers,” Sebastian read off the list, rephrasing the jotted lines of girls handwriting. “…write so fast with a quill…imagine what else…” his hands journeyed to your hip, giving the first touch before tracking down your skirt. “…they can do?”

Your leg shifted in a twitch from the touch. He’d only rested the warmth of his finger a little below your skirt, into your skin, but you gasped at his words.

“‘His lips are so pink’” He read off. You could still feel his face near your ear, but he came back up and faced you. You’d been a flush of a mess, but Sebastian edged closer as he kept reading. “…how kissable are they?”

A menace. He was a fucking menace.

But he transferred the curiosity to you. You always found yourself wondering how soft his hairs really were. Or if his lips really were —

Sebastian gave up on the silence. His hands let go of the parchment and let it fall onto the floor. Before you could watch the fall of the list, you were blocked by a pair of lips on yours.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t careful. It was all in frustration and force. Of wanting something that had been sitting for years. A breath-stealing kiss two parties yearned for enough to make a fair moan from just a kiss.

The one hand that held a list now cradled over the side of your face and a thumb brushed your cheek as you were grounded with a sloppy make-out session that both of you clearly ached for too long.

Sebastian kissed good. Dangerously good.

He held you captive over the wall, his tongue dancing over your own, guiding permission. His brows frowned, not from anger, but from how good kissing you felt. It was an ecstatic feel and it was just kissing.

You were in no help of a stop. Instead, your hands reached in an instinct, clutching at the fabric of his shirt and pulling him closer. Your hands threading through those soft brown hairs everyone wondered about.

It was a hard study between heat and examination. You gripped the hairs, softer than ever — Sebastian groaned into your mouth from the pull and his fingers clutched the side of your hips from resisting.

They were, in fact, really soft.

Your back pressed the bed soon after. The make-out session on the wall quickly transferred back into your dormitory bed and with a soft thud, Sebastian threw you onto the pillow, making you reach for a breath.

“Oh, we’re not finished yet,” Sebastian warned huskily. “Everyone’s at Hogsmeade…and I’m here to prove my point.”

He dove back into your mouth with more need than before. The weight of his hand on the side of your hip found its way beneath your shirt, feeling the raw aspect of your stomach before scrunching it up.

Over grounded mouths, you’d often breathe heavier than usual when the air of the dormitory felt colder on your skin as Sebastian folded up your shirt above your chest and reached over a breast.

His finger traced the middle of your breast, purposely tickling you and triggering the hardness of your nipples. You both watched his actions and you flushed, wanting to return the invasion by bringing your hand downward over his pants and attempting to find his bulge.

He’d been hard and thick. You palmed him lightly, but it was a hard reach from his height to yours. You’d only been able to get a sense of what he hid behind the fabric and you could only now imagine how he would feel inside of you.

You weren’t always stuck in an inappropriate daze. There wasn’t shame in touching yourself in the quietest hours of the night in a bath or empty dormitory. It was easier than admitting how much you wanted him all those years when the sun was up and walls were closed.

But now it became difficult when Sebastian, the real Sebastian, pressed against you, kissing you like he’d been waiting for this too. To prove a point of a name.

The thought made your thighs want to press together again, to get the same heartbeat notion between your legs, but now, the body of Sebastian blocked it. You couldn’t press them and he noticed that.

“Open your legs,” Sebastian ordered, feeling your denial.

“I just—oh,”

He moved quickly, pressing the longness of his fingers under your skirt. His touch circled around the thin fabric of your underwear before pressing three fingers lightly over to feel the dampness outside of you.

“Sebastian,”

A breath hitched out of his mouth. He’d lost count of how many times his cock twitched, begging for an out as he found out how soaked you were for him. For him.

“Agh,” He said in satisfaction, almost amazed from the feel. “…they said they wondered what else these fingers,” you felt them nibble the bud of your clit, still with underwear on as he spoke over your whimpers. “…do besides writing fast.”

The touch was gentle, but so powerful. Sebastian had stopped kissing and now paid his full attention to his fingers beneath you, under your lifted wrinkled skirt he dragged up and watched his own fingers trigger your sensitive nerves even more.

And he felt how you clenched with each nub.

It felt humiliating. Humiliating to know that once his fingers moved your underwear to the side, he was going to feel how wet you’d been over the course of the hour. How with such an unnecessary proof of point, you exposed yourself too on your feelings.

“Merlin,” Sebastian fought over himself, not caring about his truth out loud. “I just want to bury myself inside of you like this, but…”

He didn’t say much after, and before you could question his denial need of fucking you, you gave a low whine when two fingers entered between your folds carefully, a slushy sound echoing over the ears from the arousal.

They’d been long. His fingers. Sebastian kept it slow and gentle, examining how far he could go with them. He lifted his head once wanting to see how you’ll react. You were already a beautiful mess, giving gentle moans and biting your lip constantly from his movements.

“…how can I when the sound of your pleasure brings lullabies to my ears,” Sebastian resisted, fingering you faster, “…my cock.”

A thumb reached the outside of your clit, rubbing slowly and you clenched much slowly, feeling the triggering effect of Sebastian learning what pace you moan louder from his fingers.

“Are they,” he would curl a finger inside of you for a ting of tease and you yelp as he spoke. “…really faster than a quill, hm?” He challenged.

What a provocative little shit.

You couldn’t even talk well to insult him. You’d been so lost in his pace that when he removed his fingers from you, a mushy sound electrified and you breathed.

Sebastian lifted over you, and with the small movement of that, you saw the outline of his cock fighting in his pants. His hands reached down his belt and he raised his eyes like a wild animal looking for prey as you watched him.

Embarrassed from catching you eyeing him, you felt colored again and looked away, giving the privacy of undoing himself, but only a bubble of a laugh threw you off.

“I recall someone scribbled,” Sebastian began to remind you of the list of assumptions as he pulled his pants down. “‘I wonder if his cock is as thick as his ego.’”

You kept looking at the opposite perspective, not wanting to see. Also, to hide the blush that crept over you from what he was saying. All you did was blink at the stupid window across the dormitory.

“Darling,” Sebastian threw a pet name on you for attention. He would sometimes throw them in over the years with a silly friendship thing, but now it sounded heavy and with direction.

You licked your lips, but then felt a hand weight down beside you. Your saliva lingered over your throat as you felt that Sebastian had finally hovered over you again, and once you turned around, he’d be right there.

“Don’t you,” You shivered feeling a few fingers trace your collarbone and down the buttons of your shirt, starting to undo them. “…want to know if is as thick as my ego?”

You let him undress you, but it took a good portion of seconds to gain the courage to turn your head at his nude body before yours.

Cock wasn’t the first thing you saw. It’d been his broad chest — the way his tanned skin vibrated perfectly on the freckles that stamped him. They weren’t only on his face, but they reached down his shoulders, onto his back. A few down his abdomen until you saw him.

He was big. You saw the outline, but now in a raw view, you swallowed from the veins that strained out of it. It stared at you, like a mind of its own and it clearly showed the wanting of Sebastian to you. His cock dripped with pre-cum and it twitched from its pink tip, prepared.

It became stupid when you felt the same familiar heartbeat between your legs again, despite him fingering you pleasurably, you wanted more. You wanted him.

“Hey—“

“Get inside me.” You begged.

By now, from the severe distraction of admiring Sebastian’s body, you’d been nude yourself from his help. The buttoned shirt you once wore had been hanging on the tip of another girl’s bed and you shivered.

You overthought your command, sounding needy and stupid. “I mean—“

Sebastian didn’t think twice about your needs. You felt his lips land on yours, but your once-sitting bodies now lay back down over the pillow. His hand sprawled over the side of your face as he went between your legs and played around himself.

You hummed, feeling his tip linger around the outside of your skin. It rubbed over your drenched cunt on its own as Sebastian kissed you passionately.

The temperature felt hotter as Sebastian brought a hand down under your bodies and eyed the moment before taking a glance at you. “Yes?”

“Please.” You closed your eyes.

Sebastian stared at you. In his head, it crossed that he watched you right now, waiting for you to start writing what none of those girls could ever, ever, write in that list.

He didn’t enter you gently.

His entrance was rough and within gasp, he shut his eyes, squeezing them — hoping for the best of his fucking ego to not cum in that very second as you clenched. “Fuck.”

Your nails dug into his back from the shift of his hips slamming into you and gasped loudly, having to break the kiss.

“F-Fuck…” Sebastian went out of you but kept his tip stuck in your entrance. “…I’m trying to be gentle, but—“

“You were proving a point, weren’t you?” You throw in.

It was a dangerous commitment. There wasn’t turning back on what you had said. To prove a point. Sebastian didn’t hesitate on your words and stood by his words.

He crawled his hand under your body, bucking it up a little before he plunged inside of you like a slap. You both gasped and then he began to fuck you endlessly as time depended on it.

His cock buried inside powerfully. Sebastian didn’t play. He would go deeper and deeper with every rapid thrust, wanting to angle himself perfectly to feel the depth of your cervix and mark himself enough for it to remember him forever.

He’d watched as the pretty little mouth of yours parted with each movement. How your breasts bounced perfectly beneath him and he’ll go back to watching himself thrust into you, in and out, deep and deeper, harder and rougher — oh, he loved it. He loved you.

Your moans and expression sent him over the edge. His goal was to satisfy you to bring your name into the list — but it was never really the stupid list. It was just you. His heart had always been on you. And to finally have you tied on him, finally, he wanted to prove all those lost times of just ‘being friends’.

“Oh,” You moaned.

“Y-You’re so…tight around me, you know?” He complimented, bending forward to caress your cheek with his thumb. “…I could feel you…pressing around — shit — my co-cock with each thrust.”

You did clench with each thrust. He’d been so thick and long, that you couldn’t help the feeling of hugging him inside your walls and keeping him there forever.

The bed made squeaking sounds over the dormitory. It was loud and if Sebastian kept the pace he was doing, the bed would most likely hit the wall across the room.

Neither of you could hear the bed as much as the squelching sounds of skin-to-skin in the air. The way Sebastian drilled into you as his balls slapped beneath your cunt over each motion making you whimper and moan.

But Sebastian became attentive to the noise of the small bed. Sure, he enjoyed your sounds, but his easily distracted mind didn’t allow him to enjoy it fully — so he cuffed you under his arms and carried you to the nearest wall again.

“Sebastian!” You gasped, feeling your back against the cold wall, but it was soon replaced by heated pleasure again as Sebastian pressed into you.

His chest rubbed over your breast as he held you tightly and made you bounce up and down over him on the wall. “Yes?”

One hand gripped your ass beneath you for a force and the other hand of his rested flatly beside you on the wall, using it as a control to keep himself in balance and submerge every inch inside of you.

You’d won over the list. That list that you’d convinced yourself that with all these girls wanting Sebastian Sallow, your chances would lower — but you’d been wrong. Super wrong.

“D-Do you know…” Sebastian breathed, bringing his forehead against yours. Your breaths were heavy and his sweaty hairs touched yours. “-how long I waited to do this with you?”

You gave a half-laugh half-gasp at his honesty over the sex. You were both sweaty, but as your head bobbed over each other, you couldn’t help, but kiss again, passionately.

“But,” Your body took a freeze when Sebastian let you down and turned you around to the nearest dresser, the same one you were indeed dying to look for your coin pouch. “I feel like I haven’t proven enough…”

He bent you gently, letting your hands grip the edges of the small dresser before he inserted himself from behind.

The sex became rougher.

You felt how Sebastian twirled his fingers over your hair like a ponytail and used it as a control to inject his cock back inside of you harder. He’d watch as your behind bounced with each pump and whimper from his actions.

his voice?? His moans are probably so deep. Someone had written on the list.

They were deep.

His moans were deep.

His cock was deep.

His words were deep.

“Oh, yes,” He’d moan over your ear. “Perfect.”

You’ll clench and he’ll let out rough groans, synchronizing with your moans.

“Oh yeah.” You murmured.

Sebastian didn’t think he’d get harder than he already was, but your sounds bricked him awfully. He’d often had to think about clown suits or Prewett dressed as a banana to keep himself going a little longer, but that just fucked his mind.

As he took you from the back, he leaned forward, moving strands of hairs from one side of your neck and becoming a sucking machine on you. He sucked your shoulder, up to your neck, and when you raised your head to see his actions, he found your mouth, clumsily kissing you.

The kisses became lazier and the movement became aggressive. You’d known that if Sebastian kept the pace he was going in right now, you’d reach an orgasm. More if his hand moved into your clit and rubbed it.

“P-Please…” You begged.

“Please, what?” He struggled. “Tell me…tell me what do you want, sweetheart?” He breathed, his voice blending with the slamming sounds.

There wasn’t an ability to talk. Instead, you responded to the hot breath vibrating near your ear before your head spun and met in a desperate kiss with Sebastian. Tongues tangled frantically and a hand of his snaked over your sweat-licked bodies.

His hand lowered and you tucked your stomach, feeling a steady rub of circles over your clit. Sebastian had read you well, determined to push you on edge with him.

“Was pinning you like this,” Sebastian hissed. “-w-worth it?”

The man had proved his point. From how ecstatic he made you feel right now, you were set to write your signature big and bolded over the fucking list. Hell, you’d even highlight it with your reasonings, but the idea of other women knowing how good Sebastian Sallow fucked didn’t allow you.

Perhaps, you had to make another secret list with him only knowing now.

“Yes, yes,” You pleaded.

With pleads and moans, Sebastian felt his cock draw up tightly, balls clenching as he signaled a finish.

It was chaotically messy. A disheveled moment of both of you reaching a coarse point with curses and final moans.

It was planted that you weren’t going to be able to walk for a while after Sallow’s moves. He made sure he gave his all to you in a short amount of time and you couldn’t envision how he would act in a normal setting of sex.

You found yourself like one of the girls on the list. Wondering with curiosity — if he fucks that good in sneaking minutes, how would he be with all the time in the world?

“Well,” Sebastian tilted minutes later, fully clothed, picking up the list that had fallen to the floor. A small tugging smile crept on him as he held it up to you, all sweaty and all. “—I’m sure you have a lot to say for this list, don’t you?”

His eyes peered on yours. He wanted a definite yes answer to it. The satisfaction of you admitting he pleasured you so well, you wanted to put yourself on this list.

Half-tiredly, your fingers conjured a pen over him, and the list was snatched from his hold before you brought it down to a flat surface on the wall and began to sign.

You made sure your name was big and bolded at the bottom, enough for anyone to see. Sebastian watched with you.

He’s HUGE and he’s mine.

He became flustered at the scribble but didn’t complain. He looked down, smiling to himself like he won the lottery of some sort.

“This list though,” You murmured, making it poof away with your magic. “Would only be visible to me and you now, Sallow.”

Sebastian gave a humming noise at your demanding tone. “Hm, yeah?” 

"Yes."  

[sugusatosluut]

Mind games

Not edited yet.

Synopsis: You’ve been fighting alongside Invincible and the guardians of the globe for years, yet youre the only super that the GDA can’t get any information about. Mark Grayson knows more than he lets on, but he doesn’t kiss and tell…

warnings: light smut, no use of y/n, some fluff, implied relationship, Reader is half viltrimite.

In the midst of a tough fight the guardians seemed to be struggling immensely against the unlikely team up between the lizard league and the mauler twins. It was almost unbearable to those watching live on television. The brutal tactics of the lizard league making viewers sick to their stomachs, the gut wrenching fear of possibly losing one of earth’s favorite super heroes.. that was until Invincible and Vex showed up at the ‘all is lost’ moment to save the day. Invincible showed up before you, smiling at your presence as you flew in immediately taking down salamander, then focusing your strength on Komodo Dragon.

“Hey take it easy Vex! I was getting there.” Invincible chuckled.

“Gotta fight me for him invincible.” You smiled at him.

Instead of waiting, you and Invincible teamed up taking down Komodo Dragon, then moving onto the mauler twins as the guardians recovered and took on the rest of the Lizard league. The pile of villains visible to viewers at home who cheered at the screen. The biggest threat of the day was taken down and according to everyone the day was saved.

You were satisfied, watching the guardians and Invincible socialize before deciding to take off. Before you could leave, you felt an arm grasp your own. It was invincible, the guardians and atom eve. They smiled at you.

“Vex, thank you for your help. Don’t think we could have done it without you.” He said smiling at you.

“Yeah you’re like, hella strong and smart and that’s a lot coming from me. I don’t usually think that of people.” Rex complimented you as he crossed his arms.

“Thank you, I just want to help where I can. The partnership between those guys was odd, could have been more dangerous than we thought if we didn’t take them down. You all did great work.” You smiled. Your mask was covering most of your face.

“You know.. Vex you should come hang at the guardian’s hq. Even if you’re not wanting to be part of the guardians you’re always welcome to come hangout and be yourself. Eve and invincible do it all the time. Plus we’d get to know more about you.” Rudy stated.

“Thank you. I’ll take some time to think about it.” You smiled.

Cecil popped in behind all of you, his presence immediately squashing the positivity in the air. He was satisfied with the outcome of the situation given it could have been much worse if not dealt with accordingly.

“They’re right Vex.” Cecil seemed to spit your name out his mouth with annoyance in his heart. Cecil had his ups and downs with the supers, always has a safeguard for when things seem to go against him or a super seems to act out and he needs the upper hand, but it was never that way with you for as long as you’ve been here. You’ve always made it a point to leave before Cecil arrives and this was why, he always wanted to know more. It bugged you to the core and invincible knew more than anyone how you felt, so he always watched before needing to jump in to your defense even though you never needed it.

“If you’re gonna help it’s earth courtesy to introduce yourself and make friends, unless you already knew that.. while you’re at it you might as well make that mandatory visit to the GDA and let us know more about you too so we can assist you better in fights or care for you medically without a fight.” He glared at you.

“Yeah.. like I said, I’ll think about it.” You said before taking off.

“Nice going Cecil, you scary fuck. You scared off one of the strongest supers we got.” Rex groaned, kicking a mauler twin who was out cold.

Invincible flew up after you, following behind you. This was always what happened after a huge fight. You’d play nice and social, then leave. Invincible would follow you to where the GDA couldnt and you’d hangout together. This time you decided to fly into a con. You and mark were already in your suits hanging out at a food truck.

“Hungry girl huh?” He smirked at you, moving your hair out of your face as you took a bite of your hotdog.

“Mhm, I skipped breakfast.” You chuckled.

“Quinn you know you could always come by my place and eat. My mom doesn’t mind making breakfast. She always asks where you are anyways.” He said. Only Mark knew your name. He never slipped up once in front of anyone though. His mom only knew you by your super hero name. She loved how close you and mark were on camera and how much he talked about you at home.

“Yeah, it’s just.. Cecil’s watching you guys so closely already. We could change here and go to your place? Be there by dinner? I’d love to meet your family formally.” You smiled at him.

The two of you sat on the bench, mark’s arm around your shoulder while the other was holding his phone, texting his mother.

You both changed out of your suits, meeting up at the entrance.

“Ill never get over the fact that you love seance dog as much as I do.” He smiled.

“It’s so good, the matching shirts are just the cherry on top. Are you flying us?” You asked.

“I can, you’re gonna let me carry you though.” Mark patted your head as he picked you up.

You held on knowing you could fly if anything happened. You couldn’t let the GDA tie anything to you. Living on the edge was scary. But tonight was all about you and mark. Mark knew everything about you. His favorite thing was that you could relate to him and his own struggles. You just had to explain how you’re here to his mother Debbie. He explained that the viltrimite race was a sensitive topic considering his dad was Omni man. This was it, you landed at the front door with Mark. He knocked on the door to be more considerate to how Debbie felt.

“Mark? Oh my son, who’s this?” She asked with a smile as she took your hands in her own.

“Hey mom this is Quinn, she’s here to have dinner with us. You said you wanted to meet her.” He smiled.

“Quinn how good to see you, come in!” She grinned.

You all sat at the table, Debbie smiling and staring at you.

“So, Quinn, tell us about yourself!” Debbie smiled as she took a bite of her own food.

“I love hanging out with mark, he’s my favorite person to do things with. I love being able to protect the world with him. Plus I feel like it’s right to tell you I’m part viltrimite part Vexan, I just hate Cecil.. I’m not fond of him at all..” You breathed out. You immediately regretted everything you said, yet mark grabbed your hand under the table, squeezing it to signal it was going to be okay.

“Oh thank god you’re honest sweetheart.” Debbie sighed with relief.

“I can’t tell you how happy I am that my little Mark has someone to be around who understands him. And don’t worry, Cecil won’t know a thing.” She smiled.

You smiled back in return. After dinner was over, you helped Debbie clean up. You met Oliver, who came back from playing with friends and he enjoyed your company and helped you, Mark and Debbie clean up the house. After cleaning you and Mark went to his bedroom, chatting for hours about school and life.

“So, how was life on Vexilan?” Mark asked.

“Not bad, their lives were lived similar to Earth customs. Everything was normal except school and mating.” You huffed.

“Tell me about it.” He was intrigued. You turned your body to face him in the bed.

“Well schools don’t have grades, they were similar yes but, we have fights to move into the next higher classed area. That was it. If you died you died. Magic is the life or death factor. If you don’t have it you’re destined to die.” You said. Mark’s interest was genuine.

“And what about mating?” He asked

“Mating.. mating was odd. It worked like our schools but you also couldn’t date anyone that wasn’t in your class. Sometimes you’d have to fight rival mates to the death, other times you’d have to prove your love by mind warping. It’s a lot like.. ‘mutual masturbation or assisted masturbation.’” You blushed.

Mark was blushing. It was quiet for a while.

“Did you want me to mind warp you, Mark?” You asked.

“I-uh..I” he was panicked, he wasn’t expecting you to ask.

“Oh- unless you’re seeing eve- I’m sorry I shouldn’t have asked.”

“N-no I’m not seeing eve, I’m only seeing you! You can mind warp me I just wasn’t expecting you to ask so suddenly. I-I’d actually love to.” He said grabbing your hand.

You looked at him, blushing hard. He locked the door.

“Okay so what do I need to do?” He asked running his hands through your hair.

“Take your clothes off.” You smiled shyly.

Mark kissed you all over your face as he took his clothes off, all except his boxers.

“This works, now I take off mine and you lay down on the bed. I’m gonna sit on top of you and I need you to close your eyes.” You nodded.

Mark closed his eyes, you sat on top of him, feeling his hard on. You placed your fingers on his head, running your hands through his hair as you kissed him. You used your powers to amplify mark’s ability to feel pleasure. It worked as a type of aphrodisiac. In his mind he felt two of you, even though there was only one of you. You were touching him all over, the whines and whimpers leaving his lips.

“I feel so sensitive, what did you do?” He asked smiling at you.

“You’re gonna feel it.” You smiled.

Your mind intertwined with marks, every fantasy you’ve ever had filling his vision. He groaned and moaned. He was able to cum in the warp, but not in real life. You had him begging for more everytime he came in the mind warp. You finally stopped after the fourth time.

“I need you so bad right now.” He whined.

“I know, do you want the real thing mister invincible?” You teased him. Wrong move on your part, mark grabbed you and you stopped the mind warping. He deserved what he worked so hard for. Eventually letting him finish for real.

“You know.. I think I love your planets mating customs.” Mark blushed at you.

“Well… I think I love you mark. It only appropriate via your worlds customs that I admit my feelings for you. I’ve had these feelings for quite some time now. Just didn’t have the courage to act on it.” You smiled at him.

“Go out with me? Just as Mark and Quinn. Doesn’t have to be Invincible and Vex if you’re too shy.” He smiled.

“Yes. We can do both.” You smiled.

You both enjoyed the night, mind warping and giggling like teenagers

[thoughtslikeaminefield]

Name(s): MJ, Ninja, Min, Lieutenant, Mindy Lou Who

Pronouns: she/her

Other blogs: minefield-of-a-ninja

Zodiac signs: Capricorn sun, Aquarius moon, Cancer rising

A book you love: Wishful Drinking by Carrie Fisher

A musician or band you love: I'm a broad-spectrum music and movie lover, so these two questions vex me. BUT I will stick to just one because I also crave structure and being accurate (no matter how I often I absolutely do not maintain said structure or remain accurate.)

Jason Isbell's new record, Foxes In The Snow, has broken me into a million pieces and has yet to put me back together again. Everything he does is a living, breathing bundle of raw emotion and yearning. His voice tugs at so many memories and past hurts, and his lyrics make me want to punch a wall and then find someone to hug.

A movie you love: With the recent passings of the beautiful and audacious creators of art and love, David Lynch and Val Kilmer, I've spent the last several weeks immersed in the rumination of their works. (Imagine if the two had worked together!)

David Lynch's work blessedly and permanently rewired my brain to receive and engage with dark and sometimes arduous subject matter by giving the viewer a safe space to breathe and walk through it.

Val Kilmer embodied the souls of characters who were once living legends as well as fresh, fictional characters who he made his own.

Most recently, my husband and I watched The Doors. Say what you will about Jim Morrison and Oliver Stone (I certainly have a lot to say, but that's another post) but Val's performance is magnetic, seductive, and mesmerizing.

A TV series you love: So many. Right now, we're immensely enjoying The Studio with Seth Rogen, Catherine O'Hara, Kathryn Hahn, Ike Barinholtz, and Chase Sui Wonders. It's hilarious.

Who are your celebrity crushes: These two own me right now.

A GIF you use more often then any other:

Play if you wanna! @stunudo @deanwinchesterswitch @beka-dreamer @bigmouthlass @waynes-multiverse @lastcallatrockysbar @kazsrm67 @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth @bettystonewell

[qaze]

Thinking about how aggressive of a change Ari’s view of the “coworkers” in s3 is compared to what the viewers saw. I can’t imagine just how altered everything went down as a whole, but specifically to Ari. She must’ve felt like it was her, whom they had barely any control over due to being vexed, against the rest of Lodestar Grove. Like— I wonder if she had moments long after it happened where Ari is walking around and a form of deja vu tries popping up but it’s impossible for her to interpret why. Like she’ll be sitting with Caspian or Fenris and get flashbacks to s3 that just make so sense. Like a small voice in the background that’s a pitch too high to be Fable’s but makes no sense because, after Ick left, it was just her and Fable during that.

[quipxotic]

The looks on all their faces as this attack on Vex goes on and on and on. Most of them just look shell-shocked, but there's this very contained, absolutely silent, and completely furious look in Taliesin's eyes as if Percy is trying to claw his way out of his body to reach his graph-paper wife.

Excruciating for the players in that moment. Damn good drama for me as a viewer because I know this is not her end.

Oh and well done to Laura for keeping it together enough to (relatively) calmly roll damage on her attacker from her armor even as her character is getting decimated. I'd have been a wreck in her shoes.

[aspiringsophrosyne]

Not every criticism of TLOVM is due to its un/faithfulness to the original stream.

Take the following scenes from the latest season, for example. Neither hails from the source material, but the contrast between them is illuminating.

(Spoilers for episodes 3x02 and 3x10 below the cut.)

Prisoners of Ank'Harel

At the climax of S3x02, J’mon accuses Vox Machina of a crime they didn’t commit; to spare the rest, Percy takes the blame, and the Emperex readies a sentence.

But J’mon doesn’t name the sentence. They only call it a transformation, and lift a headpiece over Percy. This puts it in the same frame as J’mon’s mindless guards, revealing they bear an identical design.

Based on previous episodes, I expected J'mon to explain:

“This circlet will make you as they are, prisoners and criminals I put into service to…”

You get the idea.

But there’s no further explanation. Or exposition. Instead, the show leaves visual cues so the viewers can clock Percy’s imminent fate.

(In the same vein, I appreciate they didn't outright tell us J’mon is a dragon. Raishan uses a humanoid disguise, then Vex’s dragon sense tingles in the Emperex’s presence....We can figure out what J’mon’s deal is from that.)

To The Ends of The Earth.

Compare this to the earth trial chamber scene in S3x10, ‘‘To the Ends of the Earth.’’ The Ashari council states the trial could kill Keyleth, and the chamber is a gallery of anguished-faced statues. Like with Percy’s sentence, they could’ve left it at that, especially since Keyleth will fight against turning to stone once the ritual begins.

Despite all that, Keyleth comments on the statues and prompts her teacher to explain them. In doing so, the show turns to the camera and says:

“So you get it, right? Do I need to say it again? Should I talk slower?”

This is an unnecessary exposition. At its best, it wastes time or breaks the audience’s immersion; at worst, it does both. Season one took pains to clarify that this show is for adults. “Adult” doesn’t just mean swearing, gore, and nudity; adult can also mean assuming your audience can pick up what you're putting down.

Again, neither scene is from the stream. And the first handles its exposition well, in an understated fashion. It gives us enough information to understand what’s happening without being told. But the second scene is excessive. It gives us multiple indirect hints that are good enough to get the point across, but then tells us straight out, regardless.

The second scene is an easy fix if you remove a few lines. What it lacks isn’t faithfulness but subtlety. If this show can cultivate that more often, it has the potential to be great on its own terms.

[kiame-sama]

Something I plan to do: fix drawings I made that have little mistakes I either didn't notice at the time or saw later and went "eugh, how did I not realize?" 🤣

Note: this is 100% me poking fun at myself

A follower actually brought this one up to me now I can't unsee it: girly has 2 left feet. 😂 I genuinely didn't even notice until it was brought up. I will go back and change it soon, but I legit laughed at myself seeing the toes. 100% my bad

Jack's left eye (his left, the viewer's right) is up too high. I usually tilt my head when drawing and it skews things little, like in this one. I'm going to fix it and drop that eye down at some point, but it does vex me every time I see it

The change was already made on this one, but I originally gave Azul far too Human features (skin tone, ears, ect) and his facial lines were too chaotic and muddled to come across cleanly in the picture. It has since been changed to current Azul design after consideration.

Lilia's pupils and iris are way too SMALL. Lilia has large irises in the game unless he is surprised, so I do plan to go back through and enlarge the iris to make it more cohesive.

Their faces are so round and misshapen, it upsets me deeply. Like, I need to go back through and squish their faces down. I like the coloring and the green scales that shine through their kelpie fur, I dislike their faces.

Hands are what I struggle with most while drawing. The Air Nymph infant's hand is WAY too big for the infant. Neige's hand looks wrong against his chest and displeases me. I hated Ortho's left hand so much I covered it with my signature instead of letting it be seen. Hands just make my brain so angry for some reason. Noses too, but less so.

His face is a little too wide compared to his cannon counterpart. It should be a little slimmer.

[mcytshipsandmore]

Ok, ok, ok, hear me out.

Cubfan135 and BigB. Platonic. Possibly catatonic as well.

The cataclysmic levels of confusion these pair would cause if they ever met. It would be 4D chess but both of them have uno cards and think the other is cheating.

They would do everything within their power to prove the other is Not Normal.

Cub would be able to convince BigB that there wasn't never a hole, even though BigB literally made it.

They would have sign wars

Neither of them would understand a word the other says, but gaslight each other into thinking they do.

When someone else asks what they're doing they reply 'nothing suspicious' in unison.

'No' *nods conspiratorially*

They go mining together and enjoy themselves.

They'd start a bakery together selling cake and cookies. Aka: poison cake and stolen cookies, but you don't need to know that.

Cub says they should totally gaslight Scar and prank him, and BigB acts confused as to why he's a good candidate.

BigB cannot confirm or deny involvement with the Vex

Cub explains all the craziest Vex shit to BigB and BigB's just incredibly chill with all of that. Possibly did several of those things himselfm

They lie to each other for no reason.

There is tension. What kind of tension they have is undecided and wholeheartedly denied by both.

They both leave meetings and tell their viewers the other person was so weird, glad I'm not that weird.

They're both convinced the other is a spy

Cub would start off being the normal one but slowly get more and more unhinged because of BigB's actions. BigB would end up being Cub's Project that he tries to solve, like moon big.

Meanwhile, Cub would be silently pranking BigB with the exact same weird signs and holes that BigB put up elsewhere.

BigB would get possessed by the sculk and then try and convince people that the Sculk was never real.

Sculk x Creaking

BigB would refuse to let Cub into his base. Cub enters anyway because he does what he wants. Turns out that BigB wanted this to happen all along.

Both incredibly chill until they're Not.

BigB would deny that he even knew who Cub was. To Cub's face. Cub would accept this.

There would be tension around Double Life, and Grian cheating on Scar with him. But honestly, Cub blames Grian more.

In short: the most understated chaos known to man. The layers of mindgames are unparalleled, and yet practically unnoticable to the untrained eye.

everyone else is thoroughly confused as the world’s most confusing and unhinged men come together.

-🍫

[definitelynotshouting]

grian's new episode being an hour long is both a blessing and a curse bc on the one hand WE FEAST and on the other hand i (autistic, chronic backseat gamer, also a tango viewer familiar with the game) had to sit there FOR AN HOUR watching him flail around in circles while setting off every single shrieker in level one like his sole mission in life was to get mauled by a vex. never have i sympathized so hard with the ghost experience than while watching someone on youtube with zero pattern-recognition attempt to navigate a deadly maze

and i havent even BEGUN scar's ep yet

[utilitycaster]

I've been meaning to make this post for a while, and a few others provided some similar insights recently (this being one of those posts) but: in actual play, and fiction generally, just because a character feels a certain way does not mean it is generally true.

The example I had in mind is Keyleth and Vex's feelings towards the Raven Queen as covered excellently in this post. It's extremely valid for them to feel that way; it does not mean they are objectively correct about what happened. It is easier to blame the Raven Queen than to be mad at your dead brother or partner for devoting himself to a cause; it's even easier to blame her than Vecna because the party was so used to defying death, and because Vax did come back temporarily from that (via the Raven Queen). But this is a very fair, if not necessarily overly merciful, agreement, into which Vax entered voluntarily and repeatedly was asked for - and gave - his consent.

This is something we see at times play out in game - I don't know if forgiving is the word, but Beau is much more willing to consider that perhaps her father had a point before seeing him months into being with the Mighty Nein and having supportive friends and mentors. Her view towards her father makes a lot of sense, but it is ultimately her extending good faith that we learn immediately is undeserved. Ashton's belief they should take the shard is another - it was pretty clear to the audience that this was something they'd been extensively warned about but it makes perfect sense that given their personal experience, they would. And then it blows up in his face, but it still makes sense that he would have made this choice.

It's deeply irritating when fans of a work say "why didn't the characters act in a perfectly logical way that includes all the information I as a viewer know that they might not be privy to and discounts their biases and emotions", but I think fandoms are relatively aware of this flaw. What I'm talking about is a reverse of that: fans looking at characters acting with all of their biases and emotional baggage and lack of complete information and saying "see! This character agrees with me therefore I must be correct in some objective sense."

[scribbleboxfox]

Some lighting, pose, and expression tests I did with my Warlock OC, Striker.

I'm gonna do some more of these with some other OCs of mine that don't get enough love, because this was really fun!

Alt text under the cut:

Begin alt text. A collection of drawings I did of my Destiny 2 Warlock OC, Striker. Striker is a white male with slicked back grey hair and cyborg augments that extend from his face and ears to his neck and hands. Instead of normal ears, he has silver disks with antennas sticking out of them that he uses to emote. He has blue eyes and is tall and thin and generally very angular. In the top left, there is a bust of him tinged in greenish light. He is wearing a red turtleneck. He is looking up and to the right. In the center-top, Striker is wearing his usual Warlock garb of a black and blue robe with silver accents, and a gold bond and gauntlets. He is turned partway to the left and is coughing into his fist. He is blushing and has a flustered look on his face. His other arm is behind his back. There is text bubble with an arrow pointing to him stating "Just heard Lars [his boyfriend] say something inappropriate." In the top right, Striker is shown in his Warlock gear. He is in profile and his arm is extended, casting a Chaos Reach (a beam of electric energy) towards the center of the page. In the middle-left, Striker is in his Warlock gear and is facing the viewer with a concerned expression. He is against a dim green-grey background with snow falling around him. In the middle of the canvas, Striker lays on his back and scrubs at his eyes with his hands after a good floor-cry session. His face is obscured by his hands. He is wearing a red turtleneck. In the middle-right of the canvas, Striker hugs himself while looking forlorn. Both he and the background are greyed. His antenna are pinned back and he is wearing a cream turtleneck. He is hunched over and looking down at the ground. In the bottom left, Striker is posing with his shoulders perked, looking very cute. He has a smile on his face and a sparkle emoji next to him. He is colored in a pinkish tone and is wearing a blue turtleneck. In the bottom middle, Striker is wearing his Warlock gear and is violently dismantling a Vex. The Vex is mostly off-canvas, with only an arm raised up towards him, flailing desperately against the assault. With one hand, Striker puts his fist through its chassis, sending a spurt of radiolarian fluid shooting upwards. With the other, he rips cables from the Vex's body. There is a snarl of rage on Striker's face. To the right of this drawing is a bug-eyed doodle of Striker poking his index fingers together. There is a box with the words "GAY LOSER" next to him and an arrow pointing from it to him. He is wearing a red turtleneck. In the bottom right of the canvas is a drawing of Striker in his Warlock gear sneering at someone not pictured. He has an annoyed expression on his face and his antenna are pinned back. One of his hands is on his hip. In a speech bubble to the left of him, he is saying the words "Yeah. Sure."

End alt text.

[noc1818]

A Score to be Settled - Chrollo X Reader Fanfic

Hey everyone! I’m so excited to be back with Chapter Two of A Score to be Settled! I truly appreciate all the love—your hearts, comments, and reblogs on the first chapter mean the world to me. You’re all so incredibly kind, and I can’t wait to share more of this story with you!

This chapter really builds up to the long-awaited reunion between Chrollo and the reader, leaning heavily into that enemies-to-lovers tension. I hope you enjoy the dynamic unfolding! As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts, and I’m already looking forward to working on Chapter Three!

Sneak view of Chapter 2: The Stage:

In the outskirts of York New City, 1996, the Phantom Troupe faces an invisible adversary, their meticulously planned heists crumbling before an unknown force. Chrollo, ever composed yet vexed, gathers his Spiders to unearth the mole—or the mastermind pulling the strings. Suspicion flickers between Hisoka and an external informant, leading to a tense confrontation.

Elsewhere, a hidden player watches from the shadows. You, an elusive figure with a personal vendetta against Chrollo, have been manipulating the Troupe from afar. But now, Hisoka has forced your hand—you must step into the game. The upcoming masquerade heist is no longer just about treasure; it's about a reckoning. With identities concealed behind masks and betrayals lurking in every glance, the stage is set for a deadly dance where every move could be your last.

Will Chrollo uncover the truth before it's too late? Or will you bring the Phantom Troupe to its knees from within?

The hunt has begun.

A few warnings for this piece: Angst, implications of murder, theft

Enjoy

Chapter Two: The Stage

Word Count: 3537

York New – Outskirts, 1996 -

As the phone call ended, Chrollo snapped his flip phone shut, the movement abrupt and careless. His free hand drummed steadily on the leather armrest of the chair. His eyes remained fixed on the blueprint and the detailed plans spread out in front of him. Everything had been meticulously prepared, every angle accounted for. So how had the heist gone wrong?

His gaze moved back over the details, searching for something he might have missed. There had to be an oversight, right? The target was the Verosian Art Museum, where the troupe had planned to steal a rare collection of works by the late artist Gilan Lamone. Rumor had it that Lamone’s collection, titled Compulsione degli Amanti, had a strange effect on those who viewed it. Reports suggested that the art would provoke an overwhelming sense of infatuation in the viewer toward the person closest to them.

Couples from all over the world flocked to see Lamone’s work, hoping it would strengthen their bond. But it also attracted those with less honorable intentions—people who sought to manipulate emotions or, in some cases, individuals desperate enough to try and forge a romantic connection, no matter the cost.

Chrollo, of course, knew the truth behind the phenomenon: the art was infused with nen. Lamone, a transmuter, had woven his own emotions into each brushstroke, amplifying the effect of the work. This strategy, while unusual, had been brilliant. It had made his pieces extraordinarily valuable, as they invoked such powerful feelings in those who viewed them. To the public, Lamone’s work seemed like nothing short of genius.

It was a shame, really, that Lamone had recently been found murdered in his own home—some even said he had been killed by his own paintbrush. Chrollo looked up from his desk at the half-finished canvas before him. The shades of gray blended beautifully, forming what would have been another masterpiece. Now, however, the monochrome was marred by a stunning crimson splatter, streaking across both the painted portion of the canvas and the untouched white space.

What a shame, he mused, that this piece would never be seen by the art world. But no matter—he would keep it for his personal collection. After all, what kind of thief would he be if he didn’t take such a lovely souvenir?

His expression twisted slightly. As striking as the painting was, it also served as a bitter reminder of yet another failed heist. The troupe had successfully completed the first part of the job—eliminating Lamone, ensuring that his artwork would skyrocket in value. Everyone knew that when an artist died, their pieces sold for ten times their original worth. They had even secured a client particularly enamored with the Compulsione degli Amanti collection, willing to pay millions of jenny for it before. Now, with Lamone’s untimely demise, the value had soared into the billions.

And yet, when they were poised to steal the collection from the museum, they discovered the pieces had been moved at the last minute. Someone had tipped off the museum.

A scowl darkened Chrollo’s usually impassive face. How? Who could have warned them? More importantly—who would dare? 

Truly, it had been a headache of a situation. They arrived expecting to find priceless paintings, only to be met by a small militia—assassins, hitmen, and ex-military operatives. Foolish of them to think such resistance could stop the Phantom Troupe.

Predictably, it turned into a bloodbath. But for all the effort, there was nothing to show for it. No spoils, no reward, just another wasted mission. This was the third heist they had intercepted. The third time their plans had been thwarted. The third unshakable failure in a row.

And that fact bothered Chrollo the most. He had lost—three times now—to the same unknown force. That was unacceptable. Whoever was behind this, he would find them. And when he did, they would be brought before him.

In some ways, he was impressed. Whoever this person—or group—was, they had managed to uncover his plans not once, not twice, but three times. They had connections, resources, and enough nerve to act on their information. That took a certain level of intellect. Yet what stood out the most was their ability to vanish without a trace. The Troupe had found no leads, no evidence—nothing. It was as if their enemy were a ghost.

Chrollo was perplexed. Annoyed. Perhaps even a little impressed.Not emotions he was accustomed to. Nor ones he particularly welcomed.

Today, he had called a special meeting. Every Troupe member was expected to attend. They would discuss the recent failures and, more importantly, the unknown threat lurking in the shadows. Glancing at the sleek black-and-gold watch on his wrist, he noted the time. Fifteen minutes until the meeting.

The Troupe’s current hideout was an abandoned office building—worn with age but ideal for their purposes. It provided easy access to Yorknew City and, more importantly, the upcoming gala where the rare artifact, Beso De La Muerte, would be unveiled.That artifact was their next target and this time, there would be no interference. 

He rose from his chair, making his way down the hall toward the lobby where the meeting was set to take place. As he rounded the corner, all the spiders’ eyes fell on him, their conversations and laughter ceasing instantly upon his entry.

Despite the usual lighthearted banter the troupe shared before meetings, today, there was a clear underlying tension in the air.

Chrollo walked toward a slab of collapsed concrete and took a seat, conjuring his book into his hand with nen. He flipped to a page, studying one of the many stolen abilities in his collection, waiting for the last member of the troupe to arrive—Hisoka.

Ten minutes later, the clown finally appeared, a grin stretching across his face as he casually shuffled a deck of playing cards. Chrollo watched as Hisoka leaned against the wall, amused.

Snapping his book shut, Chrollo slowly lifted his gaze to his troupe members. The spiders' eyes immediately locked onto him.

“I assume everyone here is aware of our recent heist failure?”

Tension thickened in the room at his words. No one spoke until Chrollo continued.

“This is becoming a problem, and it needs to be resolved. Shalnark, were you able to find any intel on our rat?”

“No, Boss. It’s actually quite impressive. I’ve found no bugs, taps, or crypto trails. It’s unlikely they’re gathering intel on us through technological surveillance,” Shalnark stated in his usual upbeat tone.

Immediately, Nobunaga spoke up, loud as always, his grip tightening on his katana.

“Well, that means one of us is a traitor! Someone is feeding information to our enemies. And it just so happens that this all started right when the clown joined us.”

Closing the distance, hand still on his katana, Nobunaga stepped toward Hisoka.

Hisoka, smirking, remained leaning against the wall, shuffling his cards effortlessly.

“Oh, Nobunaga, how you wound me,” he said, feigning offense. “I prefer my games to be more... direct.”

That was all it took to ignite Nobunaga’s already short fuse. He unsheathed his katana and lunged at Hisoka, blade aimed at his side. But before his weapon could connect, Nobunaga was suddenly teleported across the room, stumbling as he struggled to regain his balance.

“Enough.”

Chrollo’s voice cut through the tension like a blade.

“Nobunaga, you know there is no fighting among troupe members.”

The sharp snap of Chrollo’s book echoed in the room, a clear sign of his growing irritation.

"Turning against one another is foolish and will yield no results. What do we know about them so far?"

Machi spoke up with a strictly analytical approach. "Whoever it is has connections—good ones at that. They managed to tip off the Verosian Museum, which is known for prioritizing input from the upper class and frequent donors. If the informant were a nobody, the museum wouldn’t have given their tip a second thought."

Everyone considered this for a moment before Feitan spoke up.

"Underlings know nothing. Just cry for help, say no one knows who tip off."

Chrollo sat in thought, his expression unreadable, but it was clear he was processing the information carefully.

"Shalnark, check the museum’s records for important customers and recent donors. Also, look into recent donations and see if there are any correlations. Feitan, Phinks—get the museum director. Feitan, make him talk. I want this matter resolved."

With a grin, Shalnark pulled out his computer and started hacking into the museum’s database. "On it, Boss. If there’s anything there, I’ll find it."

Phinks stood up, smirking. "We’ll bring him in, Boss. Hear that, Feitan? You’re gonna lose our bet. You can’t take the curator’s tongue if he can’t speak."

Feitan rolled his eyes with an annoyed "tch." "Make talk, then take tongue. If no talk, force to write—after few broken fingers."

Machi chimed in again, something clearly bothering her. "Boss, have we checked ourselves? Our belongings?"

Hisoka’s voice, dripping with intrigue, cut in. "Oh~ Machi, dear, are you suggesting one of us may be the traitor without even knowing it? If so, this game just became so much more exciting. I can't wait to meet its curator."

With an annoyed sigh and an eyeroll, Machi continued her train of thought as Chrollo listened intently.

"It’s just a hunch, but someone has tipped off our targets three times now—each time for a different heist. They have all the details in advance, enough to alert the targets. That would typically indicate a traitor among us feeding information to the enemy. However, we’ve all been together on missions recently. No one has had the time to leak intel without getting caught. The only common factor in each of these instances is the people involved in carrying out the jobs."

A collective realization settled over the troupe. The possibility made sense.

Chrollo picked up where Machi left off. "That would explain why Shalnark found no bugs or tracking devices in our hideouts. We never thought to check ourselves. Whoever is behind this is clearly out for revenge—targeting our heists directly. It would also make sense for them to sow doubt among us, making it seem like we have a traitor when, in reality, there isn’t one."

He paused, deep in thought, clearly intrigued by their enemy’s tactics.

Then, with finality, he issued his next command.

"Everyone, check yourselves and your belongings for anything out of place."

The troupe obeyed immediately, inspecting their clothing and belongings for anything unusual. Chrollo ran his hands over his garments, meticulously checking every inch for bugs or listening devices.

A low, amused chuckle echoed through the hideout, drawing every Spider’s gaze toward the clown. Hisoka smirked, plucking a small red button from his shirt and holding it up between his fingers.

“Well, well~ would you look at that,” he mused.

The troupe stared at the object in confusion. It looked like an ordinary button—nothing more, nothing less. But Chrollo’s sharp eyes caught the faint traces of Nen radiating from it, a detail nearly impossible to detect unless one was specifically looking. On a powerful Nen user like Hisoka, whose aura naturally masked such subtleties, it was an impressive deception.

Hisoka twirled the button between his fingers as Chrollo regarded him with suspicion. “Our new friend keeps getting more interesting. They must have planted this on me at some point,” he mused.

Shizuku tilted her head, as confused as ever. “Isn’t that just a button?”

“Use your Gyo and look closely,” Chrollo instructed.

They did as told, activating their enhanced vision. Almost instantly, the button’s faint aura became visible.

Nobunaga’s expression darkened, and in an instant, he was on the move, his hand gripping the hilt of his katana. “You knew it was there! You’re working with the rat—I know it!”

As amused as ever, Hisoka chuckled. “Can’t say that I am~ as entertaining as that would be. Besides, none of you noticed it either.”

Nobunaga faltered, stammering. “Well, uh… it was on you, so… I guess you’re not wrong.”

Chrollo’s eyes remained fixed on the button. “Hisoka, let me examine it. I want to analyze the aura.”

But before he could take a step, Hisoka grinned deviously and crushed the button between his fingers, the aura dissipating into nothing.

“Oh~ my bad. Didn’t realize my own strength,” he purred.

A wave of irritation washed over the room. Many of the troupe members looked outright furious, but Chrollo remained composed, though his gaze lingered on Hisoka’s hand, scrutinizing his every move.

Uvogin’s boisterous laughter filled the space. “Well, guess we’ll just have to find them directly then! Boss, what’s the plan?” He rubbed his hands together eagerly, awaiting orders.

Chrollo, still lost in thought, found the situation more troubling than ever. It was clear to him now—Hisoka was involved. No one could get close enough to plant something on the clown without him noticing. That would be far too risky. Which meant their enemy had to have been nearby at all times, skillfully blending into the crowd around the troupe, their presence undetected.

Whoever they were, they were dangerous.

And they had just personally outmaneuvered Chrollo with their little button trick.

This person either knew Nen or was affiliated with someone who did—especially if Hisoka was covering for them. Hisoka had confirmed Chrollo’s suspicion by destroying the button. That meant there was something traceable on it, something Hisoka had a reason to eliminate. Which also meant their enemy was bold—brazen enough to be lurking close by, watching, waiting, challenging.

Chrollo’s expression darkened, but a small smirk played on his lips.

“It’s simple,” he declared. “We wait. They’ll come to us.”

York New Central District

A loud ring echoed throughout the typically silent room. You glanced down at your phone to check the caller ID—Hisoka. With a sigh, you reached for the device and picked up.

You were never particularly fond of Hisoka; he was a bit too much for your liking. However, you were well aware that he had his uses.

“Ah~ Y/N, what have you been up to?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement.

“Nothing that concerns you, Hisoka. What do you want?” Your tone remained cold, betraying nothing.

“Ah, but dear, it does concern me when you plant a device on me. Not very nice of you not to tell me. After all, it almost caused a fight.”

Even through the phone, you could hear the interest in his voice and almost feel his bloodlust at the mere mention of a “fight.”

“Oh, but we both know you love it. Besides, telling you would have ruined the fun—and the surprise.” You picked up a small button, tossing it idly in your free hand.

A chuckle drifted through the receiver as he replied, “Well, you're lucky I destroyed that button before they could trace the nen. I mean, after all, one of your favorite toys—I mean friends—might have been at risk.”

“That would have been an inconvenience. Toro’s surveillance buttons do have their benefits. But everyone is expendable to a degree. I suppose you’re going to tell me I owe you now?”

“How did you know~?” His voice practically purred with amusement before he continued. “Well, what I want is a rather delicious little idea.”

You remained silent as he let his words sink in.

“Our good friend figured out that you’ve been in range and is expecting you to be at our next heist. You see, that is exactly what I want to see.”

“Why would I make such a careless move?” You were blunt as always, but Hisoka only seemed to grow more excited.

“Well, in this case, you don’t have a choice. It’s quite simple, really, sweetheart—you will be at our next job. And do make it entertaining. I want some direct interaction. That will settle our little debt.”

His voice lowered, dripping with honeyed amusement. “And if you don’t… well, there are so many possibilities. But I must admit, I’m leaning towards keeping you for myself. Especially after that last little stunt. You’re starting to catch my eye.”

Beneath his playful tone, the underlying threat was clear—an attempt to shake you.

Perhaps, years ago, it would have worked. But you had been in this game long enough to know how to keep the upper hand. Still, Hisoka’s interest in you was not something you wanted to encourage.

So, you would play along—let him think he had thrown you off your game for now. 

"Guess I don’t have a choice then," you muttered.

Hisoka chirped, "So glad we’re on the same page! Plus, isn’t it so much more entertaining to interact with him directly anyway?"

"The details, Hisoka," you said, irritation clear in your tone.

"Ah, no fun as always. All business and advantages... just like him."

Those words set you off. How dare Hisoka imply you were anything like that selfish monster—Chrollo.

"I am nothing like him, and I never will be. Chrollo Lucilfer is a monster. He deserves to suffer, and I will make sure he does."

You could practically envision the smirk spreading across Hisoka’s face.

"Ah~ there you are, Y/N. I can practically taste your bloodlust for him. Oh, and it really gets me going. But I do wonder… what exactly did he do to make you hate him so?"

"The. Details. Hisoka."

Your fuming tone made it obvious—you weren’t playing around anymore.

"Fine~" he drawled. "Two weeks from now, there will be a grand masquerade ball to unveil a new artifact. The Troupe will be there of course, to steal it. But I’m sure you already knew that, didn’t you?"

"I’ll be there." you stated. 

Some chatter in the distance started to echo through the receiver, followed by Hisoka’s teasing voice.

"Well then, Y/N, be there. I’ll have Lumi get you a ticket, of course. I do look forward to our next encounter."

With that, the line went dead, leaving you alone once again in your room, still rolling the button between your fingers.

God, you really hated that clown. He did nothing but get under your skin, always knowing exactly which buttons to push. Still, having him as an ally made gathering intel a lot easier. The deal you had struck wasn’t so bad either. But whether he would betray you or not… that remained to be seen.

One thing was certain—you sure as hell didn’t trust him. And that was the smart decision.

You made your way across the room toward your dresser, where a white box sat atop. But it wasn’t the box itself that held your attention—it was what lay inside.

A custom masquerade mask, meticulously crafted for the upcoming ball.

It was a beautiful piece. The base gleamed with golden swirls that highlighted the eyes and lips, while a striking golden cross sat perfectly at the center, red gems embedded at each of its points. At any ordinary masquerade, this mask would have drawn attention. But at this event, it was certain to catch his eye.

You had everything planned. You would attend the ball, and you would finally make your debut to Chrollo. You wanted to see his face when you pointed out just how many times he had lost—how, despite all his efforts, he had been outmaneuvered at every turn. If he was already expecting you, why not make a grand entrance? It would only make the sting of another failed heist even worse.

A chuckle escaped your lips. What a fun game this was.

Thanks to Toro, you had been watching the Troupe for a while now, observing just how much these repeated failures were affecting them. The growing distrust, the tension—it was everything you had wanted. But the true prize was how it was affecting Chrollo.

He might have looked impassive, his expression unreadable, but his actions told another story. He was reviewing his plans over and over, searching for the moment where things had gone wrong. Scouring records and security footage of past heists. Asking himself the same question, again and again—what was the mistake?

That was the feeling you wanted to instill in him. That doubt. That uncertainty. That creeping sense of incompetence—the very same he had once made you feel.

You wanted him—and his Troupe, his so-called family—to suffer. Just like they had made you and Sumi suffer.

And now, the consequences of your actions were beginning to ripple outward. Whispers in the underground had begun to surface, questioning the Troupe’s strength, their competence. It was tempting to let it get to your head—to get cocky. But you knew better than to act recklessly.

A masquerade ball, though? How could you pass up the perfect opportunity to reintroduce yourself to your old enemy? Every detail had been accounted for. Every piece of the setup was perfect.

You were well aware of how dangerous Chrollo was. Being in his vicinity, even for a moment, carried a risk. But you still had your trump card—your Nen ability. And in the worst-case scenario? If you were to die there and then? As long as your plan came to fruition— You would die with a smile.

The stage was set, and the game was about to begin—one that neither of you would ever forget.