#and the third world being pawns

[risuola]

III — GAMBARE, GAMBARE // In the world of crime and blood, Sukuna knows what's off limits. You certainly are one of those things and yet, he's unable to stop thinking of you.

contents: smut, little angst-ish in some places, mafia!au, unprotected sex, a hint of body worshipping, violence, mentions of death, subtle threats, reader discretion is advised — 3,2k words

a/n: third part, thank you so much for support guys! it means the world to me to see how INSANELY big is the tag list now. i literally love y'all~ ❤️ also, just as the first part got inspired by the absolutely menacing quote from our king, it only felt natural to include the famous gambare, gambare (do your best) into this one.

ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | masterlist

Sukuna prefers to think of himself as one of significant intelligence. Over the years, during which he ruled over the entire criminal milieu, he proved himself to stand atop of anyone who dared to even think of overturning his jurisdiction. All the exceptionally dumb bold ones that once wished to take the position of a boss from his hands had learned the hard way why troubles with Sukuna Ryomen are the least desirable fate of anyone who bears any volume of oil inside their brains.

It’s not only tactical or business intelligence that he’s priding himself with. It’s also the excessive knowledge about general rules of life that allowed him to comfortably push and pull the edges of what’s right and wrong, bending his own reality to his liking. Now it’s intuitive – he just knows where he can put more pressure and where it’s not worth his time. He knows what to bet his money on and what won’t realistically pay back. And most importantly, up until that point, Sukuna thought he can tell with his eyes closed which people he should consider crossing paths with, what men can be useful whilst he aims to reach his targets and which crowds he shouldn’t mess around with – for various reasons, most of which being just business and inconvenience. Same thing concerns women. Ryomen’s position works like a magnet and not a day passes by without girls, often way too young to even think of him, throwing themselves at him, led by fantasies of money and power veiled in the shades of love. If he wished, he could have a different toy every time the night falls and if he’d be just slightly less trained, he might have fallen for the temptation. But he didn’t.

Sukuna learned it from experience, not exactly his own, but of his pawns, that allowing random women in the proximity of their profession usually leads to catastrophes. Girls get persistent, they grow attached, they fall in love sooner than it’s even logical and then they threat, they blackmail; all of which eventually leads to their deaths because dealing with just barely adults that weaponize tears and screams is something he doesn’t allow in his circle. There were no exceptions, any man bearing similar power to Ryomen knows that there’s no place for romance in the world of death and bones, the one that’s stained in red and sorrow. If there happens to be love, it’s always of people from inside the criminal circle, sharing the same set of broken morals. Mafia should never tie itself romantically with civilians. Especially him, the leader, the menace that he is in the world of misdeed, murder and corruption, knew all too well why he should never, ever, even think of someone from outside of his tale as of anything more than one time plaything. That would be irresponsible, straight up naïve. It would be foolish. He knew all of that and not even once he felt any need to engage into any kind of relationship with someone that he deemed non-profitable to his general targets.

Then why the fuck he kept thinking of you? Why he kept seeing you after what was supposed to be a fun one-time fuck? Why did the taste of your lips and the sweet scent of your skin made him so completely addicted that he couldn’t focus on his own business without his mind wandering to the memory of you at least once an hour? He just liked your body, he told himself every time he thought of sending you a message. You were a good lay, it was purely physical. You did, after all, take his dick like you were born solely for this very purpose. He was meeting you only for sex and it was an accident that some of these meetings began with a dinner. All of the gifts he showered you with were just a form of payment for the service. Sukuna knew much better than to let his emotions take control of him.

“What’s on your mind?” Your quiet voice tore Ryomen out of the realm of his self-criticism. The tone that you spoked with was raspy, the testimony of the rough, throat-fucking he had used you for just few hours prior, and yet, it still somehow flowed with cottony softness, so characteristic to you.

“Nothing important,” he replied bluntly, lowering his gaze to where your face was buried into the broad muscle of his chest; your frame completely hidden in his own, much larger and stronger. It was another night you spent in his house, one of those that began with the reservation in one of Tokyo’s best restaurants that served traditional Japanese cuisine. You showed up in a dress made of dark olive silk, long enough to reach your high-heeled sandals and clinging to your shapes as if it was made to be worn over the divinity that was your body. The long, scandalous slit exposed one of your legs and the thin straps accentuated your shoulders and cleavage just perfectly. It was a dress that he himself bought and ordered to be delivered to you in an expensive box before that day. Now that very same gown was laying somewhere, discarded on the floor in the living room of his mansion.

“Sometimes I feel like you’re plotting my death,” you chuckled against his skin, the vibration of the act made him scoff because both him and you knew that the scenario you offered wasn’t exactly falling into the realm of fiction.

“If I were to kill you, I wouldn’t need to plot it. One bullet is all it would take,” he retorted with calm and despite any logic, instead of creating some distance, instead of running away you hummed at his statement and pressed your lips to the center of his chest.

You were way over fearing Sukuna and his world. The few months that you spend seeing him, you came to terms with the heavy weight of tragic fate that was now resting on your shoulders. It couldn’t end well, you shouldn’t tangle yourself with a man such as him, the path of your normal life should never come even close to the blood tainted one he was walking through. You should have never left the club with him and once you did, you should have run out his house the moment he gave you a chance. Instead of that, you stayed. That night, after the time of Ryomen’s pursue and the unfortunate event with Naoya and his gang, soon turned into two. Then just few more and then many more. The one-night stand evolved into continuous romance and though it was strewn with roses and intimacy, it came also with the realization that the more you see him, the less days you have left. There was no way for someone like you, an outsider, the mere civilian with no mafia bonds whatsoever, to be living a long life. Sukuna has enemies, there are people that want the power he holds and will eventually target you. That is, of course, if he doesn’t kill you himself over time – out of boredom or prevention. You knew a lot, he had told you more than he should.

But you loved him. You had seen him do some pretty dark things that would make most people’s eyes water, and in all honesty, it did the same thing to yours, but then, with you, Sukuna was always protective. You loved the way he always seemed to know just what you needed, the way he read you like an open book and knew just what to say or do to put you at ease. You loved the way he made you feel like the only woman in the world, how he made you feel beautiful, even on the days you felt like a total mess. He was a danger, a threat so deadly you shouldn’t play with it, he was a flame that you were bound to burn yourself on, but he was also the only person in the world you felt so safe around. Ever since you met, he had protected you. Even if his words were harsh and his own deeds rough, he never failed to envelop you in a bubble inside of which nothing and no one could hurt you.

“Oh, how much you’d miss me,” a certain sense of amusement hinted in the tone you used as the sheepish smile stretched your lips. Ryomen acted suddenly, grabbing the tiny thing that was your body and pressing your back to the mattress. His fingers wrapped around the frail of your neck; it wouldn’t take much of his strength to snap it and yet, you seemed rather comfortable with his grip secured around your airways. Over the time you managed to grow enough trust to know he won’t hurt you for no reason. Your lover was a man powerful enough, there was no need for seeding fear in you. You were also smart enough to differentiate the real danger from the playful acts. If Sukuna truly wanted you to be scared, you most definitely would be scared shitless.

“You think so?” His tone dropped an octave as he crawled above you; your bare figure now trapped underneath the weight of his presence. He got your legs between his initially, the heavy shaft of his dick rested over your lower belly as he shifted his hand from your throat down to cup your breasts. Your body seemed to never stop attract him, no matter how many times he touched and tasted it. You looked almost angelic in the dim light of that morning; the remnants of sleep still painted over your features and the only things that disturbed the innocence of your picture were the marks he had left on your plush, velvety skin. Red and angry spots that he sucked onto your flesh adorned the beauty of your frame, ultimately making you his own. “Aren’t you a little too confident?”

“I think I’m confident just enough,” you grinned playfully, smoothing over his hands, one staying on top of his palm on your breast and the other reaching up his arm to touch more of him. There was always a hunger lingering inside of you, you were never completely satiated and even if your body was utterly exhausted, you were always happy to take more. Sukuna made you feel ecstatic, like you were really his only one and though it was an illusion that you chose to believe in, it felt good to imagine yourself as his only care.

“And why would I miss you, huh? Aren’t you only a plaything for me?” The question he asked was meant to sound venomous but the sound of his voice betrayed the lighthearted intention. “Do you think I’ll blink twice when discarding you when I get bored of what you can give me?”

“I don’t think you’ll hesitate,” a chuckle once again shook your chest gently as you watched how Sukuna gently pulled your legs up from underneath him and brought one of your ankles to his face. The kisses he smeared along your shin were delicate, completely contrasting with the threatful impression that he was trying to make. He was worshipping you so openly, it made you blush every time. “But even though I know you wouldn’t think twice before killing me, I also think you’d miss me afterwards.”

Once the tender caresses finished, your calves landed on top of his shoulders as he leaned forward, squeezing a breathy moan out of you as he pushed his length into you to the very base of it, sliding on enough spit that it made the entrance easy. Ryomen learned your body through and through, he knew you can take it, he knew you’re always ready and eager to take him. Even if it’s early, even if it hurts. No matter when and where, if he told you to sit on his dick in the middle of a grocery store, you’d probably do just that and ask no questions. And yet, he knew where the boundaries are. Not once he pushed you when you were feeling bad. Not once he used you when you were not ready. The knowledge he now had about you came from observation.

“I think I would miss you,” he purred, his lips so close that they brushed against yours as he spoke. He’s got you in a mating press, filled to the brim with his bricked-up manhood and completely at his mercy. “You are addicting.”

“So keep me safe,” you whispered, cupping his face and chasing the kiss he was yet to give you. The request caught him slightly off guard. The pleading undertone made his heart clench; a feeling that he’s gone without for a decade at least and though he hated the odd sensation in his chest, he also couldn’t deny the warmth that spread throughout his body.

“You are safe with me,” the reassuring lie he followed with a heavy press onto your lips, sealing his words with his own tongue and silently promising you his protection. A vow that he wished to keep and yet, feared he won’t be able to. But now, it wasn’t important. Now you were here, in his bed, on his dick. Now there was just you and him.

Your dainty fingers found their place in his hair as he began thrusting into you. The new slick that combined with the remnants of the night made his movements easy as he dragged his hips back almost all the way out and then pushed back to the point of his pelvis clashing with the back of your thighs and your ass. The pace he set wasn’t fast. It wasn’t anything of what he’d most often pick, there was no violence intertwined into the melody of his hips. That morning it was sensual, it was deep and just rapid enough to stimulate every sweet spot inside of you. Stroke after stroke he was driving you crazy, he just barely started and already you felt yourself dripping. The filthy, wet sounds filled in the early aura and the muffled moans and whimpers accompanied them.

Sukuna allowed your legs to fall lower from where they were pressed against your chest and you hooked them around his hips. The newly earned access to his neck and shoulders you immediately used by allowing your hands to wander in the area, scratching his skin just to force a low purr from his throat. Every sound he made, you swallowed greedily as the kiss continued. Your tongues were dancing to the fiery rhythm of intimacy.

The coil in your stomach tightened all too quickly, you wished it to give you more time to enjoy what he was willing to give you but no matter how much you wanted your body to calm down, he made it absolutely impossible to achieve. Your veins were running with pure ecstasy and lust, the heated flurry that now was your brain was focused only on him, on the rhythm of his hips, on every sweet little lie that he whispered to you. Ryomen knew how to make you weak, he knew just how to angle his body to hit that one spot, the most sensitive one and you could feel him grinning against your lips. He knew you were close. The delicious squeezes that your cunt did on his girth were enough of a hint to notice and it gave him a sense of pride to be able to make you come undone so easily.

“Just few moments more,” he murmured and you nodded eagerly. Tears prickled in your eyes, gathering along your lash lines like crystals that he wished to kiss away, but was now too engulfed in the taste of your lips to part. His movements got quicker, just a little heavier as he began slamming into you with more force than at the beginning. Mornings tend to rid Sukuna from the ability to last – the ones that he spends with you in his arms, with your naked body pressed against his, unknowingly shifting against his dick for hours. That makes him unable to keep his composure for too long. Sometimes he feels like you strip him of all qualities that he once prided himself in, leaving him bare only to your eyes, with only the most primal needs exposed and he felt good with that kind of freedom.

“…don’t stop, oh god, ‘kuna~”, you were whimpering, arching your back underneath him and squeezing your little hands over his shoulders. “I can’t, I—”

“Oh, you can. Do your best,” Sukuna chuckled, teasing you with such impossible tasks. Your head fell back, your thighs were trembling against his sides and he could tell he’s losing you. You were far too deep in the realm of desire to hear his words; all of your world now came down to what you felt, to how you felt him and Sukuna loved your blissed out state. He loved the way he was the one to push you so far over the edge that you wouldn’t notice if the world was ending. But what he loved above that, was how you were gripping onto him; holding him tightly, pulling him closer as if you never wanted him to move away, as if he was everything you needed. And he was.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he muttered against your throat, painting the skin over there with wet trails of kisses and new, red marks – the ones gentle enough to fade in a matter of hours. You moaned something incoherent. “Cum for me,” he allowed, not even sure if you’re registering his words. It had to be unconscious; the way your brain caught his voice between the blurry lines of everything else.

Your climax hit you like a rock; his name was slipping over your tongue continuously, so sweet and breathless that Sukuna was once again reassured that he never wants to hear anyone else calling him. Your walls were squeezing his throbbing length, he twitched and flexed inside you, groaning with satisfaction and before he allowed himself to come, he pushed himself up. As he sat on his heels, he pulled you with him; your body now on top of him and he used his hands to guide your hips up and down his dick. You wrapped yourself around him, finding a safe space for your face right where his neck connects with his muscular shoulder and all he needed to feel the bliss was the sensation of your teeth sinking into his skin.

White seed painted your insides as he shot it as deeply as he could reach with you on top of him. Few more moves, few more groans and you could feel him relax. His strong arms snaked around your waist as he shifted slightly to lean against the headboard, straightening his legs in front of him. You stayed pressed against his chest, catching your breath and feeling the tension leaving your body as the morning went by. And as Sukuna held you so close to his heart, he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that it felt so right and that made the question bloom inside his brain. Was it still strictly physical? Was it ever only about sex?

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[americaswritings]

Voices of Roses and Ruin | Part II

Warnings: I haven't read the book (yet), Coriolanus thoughts, mentions of poverty, mentions of violence

Summary: Coriolanus thought he would never see you again after you won the Games and he got banished to the districts. But when he does, he is left to question whether or not he can imagine a life with(out) you.

Words: around 2k

Pairing: Young Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: You all asked for it so here it is: Part 2! Thank you so much for all the love on the first one. It truly blew me away!! I really hope you like this part just as much. I tried to capture Coriolanus inner conflict here. Also there will be a third and final part! :)

Can be read as Lucy Gray x Coriolanus Snow here

Part I | Masterlist

He hadn't thought he would ever see you again. Not after the gamemaster had sent for him once the games were over and he had found the evidence against him placed on a table.

Evidence that he had helped you, although the rules forbid it.

He had known. There was no denying that and it was below his dignity to pretend so. There was nothing he could say. Nothing he could do except stare at that evidence and wonder if it had been worth it.

If you had been worth it. Ruining his life.

As he had watched you crumble under his painfilled screams in the arena he had been sure to have ruined yours, but now he figured it might have been mutual.

It was what happened in the games, was a part of it. Only he had never been one and there was a sick feeling inside of him as he thought of how he had been used, had used you, had used resources to save you despite the knowledge that it crossed a line.

It was easy to watch the games and all the ways they manipulated people. Turned children into killers and brought out the deepest, darkest parts of humans. How they got manipulated in turn, by the gamemakers and the capitol. Even their mentors. And sometimes how they manipulated the public and the capitol in an act of quiet revolution.

It was oddly fascinating in a way, to see through those lies and perceptions and untangle them. Like they were all pieces on a chess board and he just had to watch them push each other around, taking out one by one.

But to find out that he had been a part of it too, that he had been played made him feel like just another pawn.

But you had won. Even if he would pay the price for it now, he had gotten you through the games. It filled him with pride and a little...relief to know that he had kept his promise.

He hated not knowing if you were safe now, but at least he had held his word. If something happened to you now, it wasn't on him.

But then why was there no comfort in that thought?

Why did there seem to be no comfort ever again, with you gone and his life torn to shreds. All his hopes and dreams crushed within one night.

Had it been worth it?

It didn't matter if he had done it for the scholarship or to save you. But then why did he suddenly feel filled with doubts?

All his life there had only been two colours: black and white. There was no grey, because he firmly believed in wright or wrong. He thought it pathetic when people weeped over the games and how tragic they were, yet found the uttermost entertainment in them.

The games served a purpose and they promised him one of his own, a university career, so he served them. It didn’t matter what he thought about it.

But now he seemed captured in between those two opposites. He knew rationally that it had been wrong to manipulate your chances so you could win. And he saw now where it had gotten him.

But wouldn't he do the same again?

Being with you, gazing into your eyes and wishing you were by his side was wrong. You came from two different worlds and the odds were against you. But then how had he turned into this man, thinking about a woman, letting his feelings guide his decisions and cloud his judgement?

And it went beyond the grey.

When you had stepped into his life you had introduced colours to it he had never seen before.

Red, not the university red, but the colours of your lips, the blood driping down your arms.

Blue, not the lifeless district blue, but the dress you had worn when you had sang during your interview and he haid laid in a hospital bed, mesmerized by your every word and sound.

Brown, the colour of dirt and poverty, but seemed to exist in uncountable shades on you.

And now that had all been ripped from him, just because he had played smarter than the other students.

His days as a peacekeeper were as dull and lonely as he had expected. He kept his gaze narrow, his weapon close and he didn't let his mind wander.

Because then he would mourn all he had lost and it would turn to anger. Fury. A turmoil of emotion he didn't know how to handle.

Sometimes he wondered if his life had only existed in polarity before and you had shown him spectra and ranges he had never learned to balance.

And it made him mad. At you. Because how dare you show him what love and lust felt like, how light it made him feel and how there seemed nothing else to exist in his thoughts anymore, only to rip it all away and show him the other side of it. The loss and the grief, the uncertanity and fear. The lacking.

Sometimes he wondered if he was going mad. Here he was damned to a life in the districts, a simple life, despite knowing he had been born for big things. It was in the name. Snow lands on top.

He pretended to be numb and hollow on the outside, but inside of him raged a storm of emotions that broke him bit by bit. Soon there would be not much left of his pride. To his sanity.

He had convinced himself he wasn't thinking about you anymore.

That his dreams of you were just evidence of his growing madness. And that the hopelessness he felt when he persuaded himself you were likely somewhere far away and not thinking of him anymore didn't exist.

But all the lies he had build opon came crashing down when he caught a glance of that blue, that red and brown and he knew. Knew without a doubt.

His hand was locked around your wrist before he could think about the movement and he dragged you away and into a dark alley, his big hand clasped over your mouth to swallow your screams and his body trapping yours against the wall.

His gaze flickered around to make sure no one saw you, then he allowed himself to look at you.

Your eyes were wide open, staring at him in a mixture of shock, fear and disbelief. Carefully he lowered his hand, his hand tangling in your hair. He had always wanted to do that.

But he didn't step away. He needed to make sure this was real, that you were real. “You're here."

You swallowed, eyes flickering over his face and then the uniform. You frowned, then carefully touched his head. "Your hair- it's gone."

"Not completely."

"It's short." You smiled and he felt his lips curve into one as well, all previous anger swallowed by the reality that you were here. That he hadn't lost everything. He had you know.

"Why are you here? Why are you one of them?" He ignored the way your tone changed and you practically spit out the word. "They found out how I helped you. It was against the rules."

He couldn't keep to himself any longer, not after he had fantasised about you for so long and his hand travelled over your neck, your jaw, cupped your cheek.

Finally, you were his.

He would have leaned down and kissed you, but the look in your eyes stopped him. "I thought you were hurt. I- I thought you were dead!"

Tears were shimmering in the soft light that the moon cast over your face and he caught them and wiped them away with his thumb when they spilled over your cheeks.

"It wasn't my voice in the arena. They used the birds to-" "I know that!" You let out a breath. "But everything they said- you said that to me. Word by word."

He waited silently for you to continue. "But then the screams-" "They weren't real", he tried to soothe you, but you shook your head. "But if everything else was, then...", you trailled of, but he knew what you thought anyway.

"They manipulated you. That's why they used my real words against you, to convince you that it was really me, my voice, so that you would believe everything."

"So they didn't-" You looked at him with so much fear that he almost smiled. "They didn't do anything to me. I sat there watching like I did the whole time."

"But then...how they did to it? And how did they listen to us all this time?"

He knew what you were really asking. Had he known? Had he known about it, but never thought it important enough to mention or worse had he intentionally not told you, because of his own motifs?

Shaking his head slightly he let out a sigh. "I don't know", he admittted. "How do they do anyting?"

You looked at him a second longer before nodding, deciding that you would trust him.

His hand ran down your arms now and he noted in satisfaction that you shivered under the touch. He was sure it had nothing to do with the cold.

"Where were you? After you won?"

After he had yelled at the game master to let you out. Many times.

"Here and there." You shrugged, but he wanted to know more. Needed to know more.

“That's not enough."

Would it ever be? Now that he was in the district and you were here too. Was that enough?

It wasn't the big house, the uniform and status. It wasn't Tigris smile. And it wasn't power.

It was just you and him, a whole lot of dirt, hunger and sickness. Lacking. Was that a life he could settle for?

Until now this had only been a station in his life. He would get back to the capitol and claim what belonged to him or else he would not see a future for himself.

But now things were different.

"I didn‘t know where to go. I thought after the games my life would be different, but I am still here and everything's the same except that I'm a killer.“

You closed your eyes and an expression of pain crossed your face. He let out a breath as he tried to soothe away the frown. "Don't say that." "But it's true." You looked at him with loathing in your eyes.

"You gave me the tools to kill and I used them. We’re both guilty."

"So? Everyone is. It's what needed to be done." He didn't get your fuss. All that mattered was you and him and you had gotten that.

"I would still make the same choices." "You would?" He nodded. "You matter more than them."

You frowned, heaviness in your eyes. "I don't." "To me you do."

It was true. He didn't know much, didn't understand these new feelings, but this one thing he could promise you was the truth.

Closing your eyes you leaned your foreheads against each other's, finding a glimmer of peace in each others presence. "To me you do too."

It was barely above a whisper, but he opened his eyes to search yours. For a moment you were locked in each other's gazes, but even though it felt like it in this moment, you would never have all the time in the world.

Cupping your cheek a final time Coriolanus closed the distance between you.

Your lips were dry and tasted a little like salt where the tears had touched them, but he savoured the feeling. Your body was trapped between the wall and his and he wanted to explore every part of it, make you completely and utterly his.

The kiss was all shades and ranges of colour he didn‘t know existed and he only knew he wanted more of it. It was addicting, this new feeling that only you seemed to hold the key to.

When you broke apart a sad smile hung on your lips. Before he could ask you about it you cast your eyes down. "They are talking about us. In the capitol. When they used your voice and I...fell for it- they made it into a whole story."

He closed his eyes. He had considered that possibility, yet he hated how he felt the control slipping from him. He had always contained an image and now he felt like other people were deciding it.

"They will forget about it." "They won't. You know it. I can't ever go back."

When he opened his eyes again he saw shock and understanding in yours. "But you...want to go back", you concluded and he didn't deny it. It had always been the scholarship for him, the way up.

He was a Snow, born into greatness. It was his duty to claim what should have been his all along.

You ducked away and took a step to the side, bringing a distance between your bodies he hated.

"This is not my life." You knew that, didn‘t you? Or had you expected him to give up everything for what…love? This feeling of lightness and colour and sweetness?

Even if it gave him a flicker of lust and the power he yearned for, it was not the same.

Because even if your love was strong enough, it would never exist without hunger, worry and a job below his worth. And he was tired, so tired of living like that.

That was why he had taken on the mentorship in the first place. Why he had even gone to such lengths to get the public to pay attention to you and then to save you.

For a different life. A better one. A life in the district was far from it.

Your eyes flickered around as you took in your own district. The one he had spent his last money on just for the possibility to see you again.

And you were standing right in front of him, yet you seemed even farer away now than you had in the arena.

"But it's mine."

Silence settled between you as both of you considered the meaning of your words.

"So all of this...for nothing? You say all these things to me, that you won't let me die and that I'm different and then you break the rules to save me only for what?!"

You shook your head furiously. Desperately. "So you can go back to the capitol and pretend this never happened?!"

He should have felt outrage, but for the first time since he had been sent to the gamemaster and learned his fate he felt numb inside.

"No."

You stared at him in bewilderment, your face a portrayal of the storm of emotion he had felt trapped inside of him for so long. "I would never pretend", he took a stride towards you.

“You changed me. And I think I changed you."

His hands found your face again and to his own surprise you let it happen. "We belong with each other."

You stared at him, a deep sadness in your eyes as you silently shook your head.

"Only not in this world", you whispered, ducking away from his touch and disappearing into the shadows without another word.

He stood there, staring at the spot you had vaished, a part of him leaving with you.

Part 3

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PERMANENT

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[puck-luck]

learning curves | trevor zegras

warnings: inexperienced!reader x experienced!tz, general anziety about having sex for the first time/doing sexual things for the first time, silly goofy sex questions that everyone has but refuses to speak on, conversation about kinks (lasts two seconds because they get derailed almost immediately), handjob, innocence!kink, probably some other stuff i missed. pairing: trevor zegras x inexperienced!reader summary: trevor zegras and his gf have "the talk" wc: 3891

Three dates. It’s been three dates. Your best friend in the world says that it’s after the third date that she considers putting out– but she’s also had sex before, racked up a body count that seems substantial next to yours (yours being a whopping zero and hers being a solid nine). Where you didn’t have boyfriends and were more focused on graduating early so you could start your dream job with the Angels, she seemed happy with the fast-paced, social side of college that afforded her connections and contacts with men of all kinds.

You told her about Trevor when you started dating him, after he brought you to your own baseball game, the last of the season against the Oakland A’s. It had worked out well in his favor, despite the fact that you hadn’t told him about your passion for baseball. Since it was the last of the season, your supervisor had let you take the day off as a reward for all your hard work and had pawned your tasks off to the other members of your team. 

Your best friend had called you mere minutes after that first date had ended, gushing with you about Trevor’s kindness in buying your food and drinks (and ticket) and laughing at the way you reenacted Trevor’s attempt to mansplain baseball to you. 

After the second date, when Trevor brought you to play mini-golf and took you to get ice cream, you had called her. She had asked if he had kissed you yet. She also asked if you were going to send a picture of his butt anytime soon. The answer to both was “no.”

And last week, after the third date where Trevor had taken you to see Killers of the Flower Moon when it released, she had told you about her policy: the one where she starts to consider putting out. 

It seems like Trevor might be on the same page. For your fourth date, Trevor invited you to dinner. Tonight. At his apartment. He’s cooking for you. At his apartment. 

Alone.

You haven’t told him yet about the fact that you haven’t had sex with anyone. He’s probably picked up on it by now, with how you shy away from his touches and swerved him twice (once at mini-golf and once after the movies). 

You’re going to tell him tonight. He’s going to cook a beautiful dinner, be nothing but sweet and caring like he always is, and then you’re going to tell him that you’re still a virgin, and he’s going to be freaked out, and probably break up with you.

That’s the only way it could go, right?

The potential for disaster is on your mind the whole night, from the drive to Trevor’s to the last bite of the cheesecake Trevor bought for dessert. 

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Trevor asks, pushing his plate away and leaning back in his chair. He crosses his arms over his chest. “Did I make something you don’t like? Are you not a cheesecake fan?”

“No, Trevor, I like cheesecake. You haven’t done anything wrong.” You continue to pick at your dessert. You sigh, then place your fork down on the side of the plate. “I think we need to have a conversation.”

You don’t miss the alarm that flashes across Trevor’s face when you say that. 

He stands almost immediately from his seat, taking your hand to bring you to his living room, where you can sit comfortably on the couch. Trevor stays quiet, something you know is difficult for him, but it means so much more to you that he’s trying to let you take charge here.

“Do you remember when I told you about my best friend?” You ask, finding it safest to start there.

Trevor nods. “What about her?”

You’re quiet for a beat, taking a deep breath. “She told me that she starts to put out after the third date.”

A sharp silence follows. Your heart is beating through your chest, but it starts to slow the longer the silence drags on.

Finally, Trevor breaks the silence. “So?” He asks. “What does that have to do with us?”

You fishmouth at him, jaw open wide and dangling. 

“Not in like a mean way, but I was inviting you over for dinner. If you want to fuck, we can fuck, but I really just wanted to eat with you today.”

Trevor’s words are both comforting and cutting. He’s sassy, always is, and the consonants of his words sound harsh. He’s saying everything like he’s so sure, like it was obvious, and the word “fuck” twists your intestines in a way that causes you to grimace. It’s nice that he didn’t intend to have sex with you tonight, but now it seems like an offhanded afterthought. If you want to, we can. 

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” You bite the edge of your thumbnail. “It’s– well, that’s kind of a big deal for me?”

Trevor nods, encouraging you to continue.

“I haven’t, um. I, kind of, haven’t really… done that… yet.” Your voice shakes a bit in an embarrassing way, a way that makes you want to cringe, but you don’t want to seem so vulnerable in front of Trevor. 

The problem is that you like him. You’ve been going on dates as often as you can, with Trevor’s busy schedule. You enjoy seeing him, you like hanging out with him, and you want to keep doing it. You always get your hopes up and this time is no different, you can feel it. You’re hoping that Trevor won’t say the same shit as the other guys you’ve told this to, the ones that laughed or belittled you or asked “Why? Why haven’t you?” like there’s a good answer to their question.

“Oh,” is the eloquent response that Trevor comes up with. His eyes are wide and his mouth stays slightly open, even when he’s done speaking. It’s like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t know what. 

You’re the same way– you bite the inside of your cheek and your lip as you continue to watch Trevor. If you weren’t feeling so nervous, it would be a funny sight: two people sitting on the couch, just staring at each other with wide eyes.

“I really like you, Trevor,” You tell him. “I just– I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t want to disappoint you. I don’t want you to leave me because I can’t give you what you want.”

Trevor moves quickly, closing the space between you. He hugs you tightly and you sniff, holding back emotion that you didn’t realize was there. 

“Is there anything else?” Trevor asks , rubbing your back. 

You shake your head.

“I really like you, too,” Trevor adds. “I’m not going to leave you because you’re… inexperienced. I want to keep dating you, Y/N. If you’ll let me, I would really like to…” Trevor trails off, offering you a smile and a little bit of a laugh before continuing. “Teach you?”

Your mouth opens in surprise. “Teach me?” You repeat.

Trevor grimaces, an embarrassed smile on his face. “It sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”

“A little bit,” You agree. Your heart has slowed to its normal pace and Trevor’s hand on your knee is a comfort, not unwelcome pressure. 

“Can I kiss you?” Trevor asks. His voice is soft and his hand has drifted up to your cheek. 

“Well, I’ve done that before,” You joke. You’re not lying– you’ve kissed people in the past. You feel like that should be clear to Trevor before he gets too big of a head. 

“Not with me.” Trevor leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek, then the other. He kisses along your face until he gets to your lips, which is when he pauses before barely letting his lips ghost across yours. He holds himself there for a moment, waits for you to tilt your head up, and Trevor dives in. It’s sweet and he’s patient, never moving any faster than you want him to. 

Over the next week, you tell Trevor your theories about why you haven’t had sex before: that you were a weird kid, or too focused on school, or too eager for the next big thing that you never considered it. Or that guys were scary and often didn’t actually seem to care. Trevor reassured you that he didn’t care that you hadn’t had sex before, but that he did care more about you than anyone he’d ever been with in the past.

By your fifth date, Trevor had officially made you his girlfriend. He had also officially told you that you could ask him any questions you wanted, whenever they popped into your mind.

You had taken advantage of it, often at the worst times:

Over text before a game: “Is it going to hurt?” “Probably. But I’ll go slow and try to get you as ready for my cock as I can.” While you and Trevor are grocery shopping: “What am I supposed to do?” “What do you mean?” “Like, I don’t want to just lay there.” “There are a lot of different positions. I’m not going to make you just lay there.” “Okay, well I don’t think I’ll be any good on top.” “You don’t know that yet. Also, chill out. We’re in the middle of the toilet paper aisle. Can we finish this conversation at home?” Later, in that same grocery trip, while in the condom aisle: “Is it really that different?” “What?” “When you have sex with and without a condom. Is there a big difference?” “Uh, it’s more… intimate without. I think it feels better.” “So should we skip the condom altogether?” “Uh… probably not the first time. We should probably work up to that.” “Well, I want you to feel good.” “You’re going to give me a boner if you keep talking. Shut up. We’re buying condoms.” And when you pouted: “Just be patient, we’ll get there.” When you drop him off for practice: “How long do you usually last?” “I have to go.” Then, over text two minutes after he walks away from the car: “you’re hot so probably not more than two minutes <3”

You’d waited to ask the more pressing questions when you were in private. It brought you a thrill of glee each time you asked a question and you could watch Trevor grow uncomfortable with the effort it took to restrain himself, to not try and get some relief whenever you caused him to grow hard with your unintentionally dirty words. 

“I made a list of questions for you,” You tell Trevor. It’s the last time you’re hanging out before you head home for Thanksgiving. You’re sitting on the same couch, Trevor on one side, you on the other. 

“Twenty questions, sexy style?” Trevor teases, pulling your legs over his lap. 

“You’re my little encyclopedia,” You reply. “And I’m curious.”

“Okay. Go on.”

“What do you like, Trev? Tell me everything. Likes, dislikes, kinks, dare I say fetishes…”

“Don’t really think I have any fetishes, but thanks for being open about it,” Trevor laughs. He rubs his thumb over your ankle. “That’s a really big question, baby.”

You shrug, foregoing a reply.

“I mean, I don’t know. I like sex. I like getting head. I like giving head. I like it when I finger a girl. I like it when I can make a girl come. I occasionally like to spank a girl. I’m pretty chill, baby. I’m down for anything.”

You scoff. “Trev, I don’t know anything. You have to be specific.”

Trevor takes a breath and chews his bottom lip, seeming to consider your words. “I like that you don’t know anything.” His fingers circle your ankle and he squeezes what he can hold in his hand. For probably the first time since he’s talked to you about this sort of thing, Trevor seems hesitant, like he’s choosing his words carefully. “It makes me feel really special.”

“Special how?” You ask.

“I don’t know, just… that you trust me with this.”

You suppress a smile. “Look at you, Mr. Emotional Intimacy.”

Trevor snorts and rolls his eyes. “I’ve never been a huge relationship guy, Y/N. I think it’s really cool that you make me want to experience all this shit with you. It’s nice to feel this way. We get to treat every moment like it’s really special, and that makes me feel special, since most of my other sexual encounters are just heat of the moment hookups with other experienced partners.”

When you open your mouth to apologize for your inexperience, unable to help yourself, Trevor cuts you off. 

“I also think it’s really hot that– God, this sounds so fucked up– I get to show you everything. It’s… like, okay, fuck, it’s kind of the student and teacher thing.”

“So you do have a fetish!” You accuse, pointing your finger at Trevor wildly. He captures your hand and rolls his eyes. “You want me to dress up like a Catholic schoolgirl!”

“I do not!” Trevor replies, sounding exasperated. He pauses to consider it. “Okay, it would be hot. But that’s not why, bro. Chill out.”

“Why, then?” You ask. You’re interested, almost too interested. You want to know what makes Trevor click, what you can do to make him hard and what he looks like when he’s in pleasure, when he comes.

“I like that you’re innocent. It just makes me feel like I get to take care of you. It’s dumb, but I get to be the man and I get to make you feel good and show you how to make me feel good. I’m the only one who’s seen you like this, it’s fun for me.”

Your eyes drift lower to his lap, wanting to see if he’s tenting his shorts just at the idea. He is. You move closer to him, taking your legs off his lap and tucking yourself into his side. Feeling bold, you place your hand on his stomach.

“Can I see you?” You ask, making sure your voice sounds extra sweet and you’re blinking up at him through your eyelashes. 

Trevor practically convulses, his mouth pressed into a straight line, but still wobbling a bit as he stares at you in shock. “What?” He asks.

You let your fingers drift to the waistband of his shorts, but you dare not to tread further. You don’t want to touch him wrong, or mess everything up. But, at the same time, you really want to see his dick. “Can I see you?” You repeat. Then, you let out a little laugh, just to yourself. “I’m–” You cut yourself off and press your lips together, proud of the joke you’re about to make. “I’m a hands-on learner.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Trevor says, shaking his head at your terrible joke. “Baby, are you sure?”

“Trev, I want to see your dick.” You roll your eyes, pulling your hand back. “I should see the hardware before I ask of any more questions, right?”

Trevor seems to be battling with himself. 

You dip your finger under the waistband, feeling his v-line with your pinky. 

It snaps Trevor out of his inner turmoil and he bats your hand away. He shimmies his shorts off, leaving his boxers on. They don’t leave much to the imagination and you bite your lip with a gasp.

It’s big. It’s not even out yet, and it’s big.

Trevor dips his head down, tilting your chin up with a finger, and kisses you softly. “Still sure?” He whispers.

“Leave it in there for a second,” You reply. You lower your voice to a whisper to match his: “How is that going to fit inside me?”

“We’ll go slow and I’ll get you nice and open for me. Three fingers, so it’s easier.” He winks. “Maybe four.”

“Jesus Christ, Trevor.” Your voice is more admonishing than turned on, but it would be a lie if you weren’t intrigued by his words. 

“And you know what else?” Trevor asks. 

You nod for him to continue. 

“If we need to, we’ll use lube. But I want to make you come a couple times before I get my cock in you, that first time. Wanna make it so good for you. You’ll be so relaxed that you’ll forget it’s your first time.”

“A couple times,” You repeat, feeling a little dazed. “Is that… normal?”

Trevor shrugs. “Normal is different for everyone. It’s possible and I think you’ll like the feeling of me making you come. I know I will. So, I hope it becomes normal for us.”

“Okay,” You say. You know your voice sounds unsure. You clear your throat. “Take it out,” You tell him, a little hoarse still. 

“You’re sure?”

“Trevor, just do it,” You let the words burst out of you. “If I hate it, I’ll tell you to put it away!”

Trevor laughs. “God, I hope you don’t hate it. That would really derail my plans for us.” He hooks his thumbs in his waistband and inches his boxers down.

The inching slowly reveals the head of his cock, red and shiny. Eyes wide, you tilt your head to the side. Your lips part as Trevor continues to reveal himself to you. It lays flat against his stomach, curved a little to the side. 

Trevor smiles, the right side of his mouth tilting up into a smirk. He brings his hand to the base of his cock and watches your breath hitch when he pumps himself once, slowly, just to gauge your reaction. He squeezes, milking a little precum out of his tip. 

You tense up, watching the drip slide down his length. 

“Oh my God,” You whisper to yourself. 

“What do you think, baby? Hideous?” Trevor asks, a knowing lilt in his voice. He sees how your eyes haven’t left his dick since he pulled it out of his boxers, curious but also enraptured.

Your hand twitches on his stomach. “Can I…”

Trevor hums, stroking himself again.

“Can I touch you?”

“Whatever you want,” Trevor agrees and takes his hand off of himself, practically dropping his cock like a hot potato. 

You reach out, hesitating at the last second. You pull back. “I feel so stupid.”

“Why?” Trevor asks. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” You say begrudgingly, pouting under his watchful eye. 

“That’s okay. Just get your hand on it, feel it out. I can help you, if you want.”

“No, I want to do it.” You reach out, making contact with Trevor’s cock with a single finger. You draw a line from his base to his tip, following the vein on the side. You bite your lip in concentration, circling the tip of his cock with your finger and thumb. You purse your lips and feel the weight of his cock in your hand, tilting it gently from one side, to the other, forwards and backwards like a joystick, just to see how it moves.

You fail to notice Trevor’s breathing grow deeper, nor the way his eyes are trained on your face.

You press your thumb into the underside of the head of his dick, where the tip meets the shaft. You drag your thumb up, swiping over the slit. A bubble of precum appears and leaks out. You rub your thumb through it, then turn your hand over to look at your thumb.

Trevor’s jaw drops and a strangled noise leaves his mouth when you bring your thumb up to your mouth and take a taste. 

His cock jumps, drawing your eyes. You then look up to him and notice the sweat on his brow. He’s biting his lip to recover from his groan, but lets out a whimper when you circle his cock with your entire hand and pump him. 

“Oh my God,” Trevor whispers, mirroring your reaction from earlier. His voice is shaky and his eyes roll backwards into his head. 

You bring your other hand down to cradle one of his balls, rolling it in your palm. You pump his cock at the same time and Trevor’s hips jump into your fist, catching you off guard.

“Gonna come,” Trevor chokes out. “Just– fuck– keep going.”

“Help me,” You request, taking his hand and bringing it so his hand covers yours.

He moans aloud, tightening his grip (and yours by extension), and moving his hips up into his hand in short thrusts.

“Fuck, is this– is this okay?” Trevor checks with you, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. “Can I come?”

Your eyes stay on his face, watching as his face contorts with pleasure. “Yeah,” You breathe out. “Want to see you come, Trev.”

He lets out a moan at that, throwing his head back as you continue to stroke over his member in tandem. He fucks up until your fists as he hurls himself over the edge, ribbons of come shooting out of his tip and falling in pools over his hand and abdomen. 

A bit drips through his fingers onto your hand and you stare at it, crinkling your nose at the feeling of the sticky substance as it settles on your skin.

“Gross,” You say, wincing at the way it cools on your skin. 

“Let me clean you up,” Trevor offers, tucking himself away and rising off the couch to wet a paper towel. You stand and follow him, holding your hand a reasonable distance away from yourself, and trying not to drip everywhere. When Trevor turns to you with the paper towel, he laughs. “Well, don’t act like it’s acid!”

“You look pretty when you come,” You tell Trevor as he wipes his come off of your hand. He dumps the paper towel in the trash can and you elbow him out of the way to wash your hands for an extra long amount of time. He follows suit when you’re done and you plaster yourself to his back, hugging him from behind.

“What’s that for?” Trevor asks, throwing a glance over his shoulder fondly.

“For being so understanding and nice to me,” You mumble into his back, hiding your face. “Thank you.”

Trevor turns around in your grasp and returns your hug, holding you tightly to his chest. “Oh, baby, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Cuz you find me so hot when I’m innocent,” You giggle, poking his ribs.

“It’s my kink,” Trevor teases back, with a hint of truth to it, though you won’t find out about that until Trevor sheepishly admits it the next time you jerk him off and he’s babbling aimlessly about how pretty you look when you’re staring up at him in awe, asking him how he feels and if you’re doing well. He’s praising you and whining and when he finally comes, he almost hardens immediately after because you lift your hand up and give his come a little kitten lick, getting a taste of him. 

You end up scrunching your nose in distaste, not because you dislike it, but because it’s such a unique taste.

It makes Trevor laugh and it makes him lean in to kiss you, even venturing to open his mouth and let you take the lead with tongue (the way he taught you).

note: the monday morning streak continues! pls send feedback to my inbox (not requests, i'm booked) but i want to talk about this series!! I love chit-chatting with y'all! i also think that since i'm starting my new job(!!!!!!) this week, we might be down to one post this week & then i'll just work on a bunch of stuff throughout the week so i can hopefully post more when i'm acclimated to my job! also, my cousin is having her baby today! it's the first baby of the next generation! i'm so excited for her!

[barracuda-shark-games]

The alpha version of Bethroned is now live! Play it here.

Any and all feedback is welcome and appreciated, as this game is in very early alpha status right now. If you enjoy the story, please consider leaving me a tip on Ko-Fi!

Description:

You are a royal heir, third born to the King of Arevikland, yet tenth in line for the throne. While your older siblings were being groomed for politics, you were being wielded into a weapon of war. Your coming of age ceremony was followed by a declaration of war on a neighboring empire; your gift: you were placed in command of your father's troops. It's been 12 long years of a bloody war with no end in sight, and everyone knows that this war would have ended poorly years ago if it weren't for your leadership. Yet suddenly your father is pulling you from the frontlines... a betrothal to the enemy is on your horizon.

In Bethroned, you will play as a customizable (male or female; gay, bi, straight, or asexual) spare heir in a fictional world, living amongst the people with whom your homeland had until recently been warring for over a decade.

Play the cards you've been dealt as you try to shape your destiny. Will you befriend those who were once your sworn rivals? Or will you pull strings in hopes of granting advantages to the homeland that used you as its pawn?

Uncover a plot that could destabilize the peace between your homeland and the empire you married into. Will your royal spouse become your greatest ally, against all odds? Or will they rue the day they agreed to your father's terms?

You might even find love in the unlikeliest places, with six unique romanceable characters: - a loyal bodyguard who is as sensitive as he is brave - an austere advisor who keeps her bleeding heart closely guarded - a noble knight whose trust is hard-won - a cunning spymaster whose only blindside might be her own feelings - a kind priest whose dedication to his faith mirrors his dedication to his loved ones - a charming noblewoman who offers more than meets the eye...

What kind of consort will you be?

[j4gm]

SPOILERS!!! REFERENCES AND EASTER EGGS IN F&C ep. 10: CHEERS

The finale!

Pawn Swan! This was another character who first appeared in Steve Wolfhard's post-finale loredump about the 1000+ world. I never expected to actually see him in the show.

Nuts how this is like the third time we've seen Simon's ass. I love how Shermy is just chilling and playing video games while GOLB lets this random old man take a turn at the wheel.

This establishing shot of Fionnaworld shows that it's very small. By the time it is restored at the end of the episode, this ominous white border is gone and there are more buildings, implying that it became a complete world.

I can't believe Gary was thirsting after Scarab in this situation.

There is a shop called Evergree Flowers; likely a reference to the episode Evergreen.

This shop window advertises that you can learn to kick bugs. Appropriately enough, Cake kicks Scarab through this shop window while in her Godzilla form.

The Betty statue has become GOLBetty.

It should be clear by this point that Casper and Nova are a parallel to Simon and Betty, with all of their decisions being made by Casper with little consideration for Nova due to their unbalanced power dynamic. This is why Simon realises that he should have been more considerate of Betty's dreams, rather than single-mindedly chasing the Enchiridion and the crown.

The credits confirm that genderswapped Ash is named Ashley. I wonder what happened to her after she fell into the void. Probably nothing good.

Poor Marshall never gets to finish his songs. Truly he is the genderswapped Marceline.

The name "GOLBetty" is now canon; Simon uses it in this scene.

I'm not sure what's happening to GOLBetty here. A loose thread to pick up if this story ever gets a continuation, perhaps.

Simon steps through several different universes, including all the ones we saw during this miniseries. I'm not sure what this world full of tiny bears is meant to be.

Some kind of industrial capitalist hell universe.

This is the Water Park Prank artstyle, implying that Water Park Prank takes place in a separate but canon universe. So Water Park Prank is now canonically canonical! (what a ridiculous phrase)

Some kind of Jake universe.

A universe featuring Magwood and his volcano lair, from the episode Evergreen.

The snail! It's not dead after all. And it's a great way of symbolising a return to regular Ooo, as is the reappearance of the smiley butterfly.

This was a strange selection of characters. I hope Jay hasn't left his younger siblings on their own if their dad is dead. At least baby Finn won't have to grow up in Vampworld, though part of me liked imagining what that would have been like.

Fionna mentions that his is her top fantasy. The other two of her top three fantasies were Cake being able to talk and a kingdom made of candy.

She gets a hammer, like she had in the dream sequence at the very beginning of the miniseries.

Kheirosiphon goes back to working in a teashop, just like he did on The Drift before he was imprisoned by Scarab. Also Marshall's outfit here is incredibly gay, it's great.

There is an ad here for a daddy issues themed comedy night. Sounds like Marceline's kind of place.

Prismo's face glitches for a second. Ominous.

Simon definitely needs to move out. This is probably an even more important realisation than coming to understand his influence over Betty.

In the credits of this episode, Simon is finally at peace.

And with that, the miniseries is over! Back to the long wait. Will this be it for Adventure Time? Or is there yet more to come...

[autistichalsin]

Do you ever just... think about how Halsin's life at the Grove was not only lonely and full of pressure, but also so full of expectations that the image Halsin had to cultivate of himself was nothing like who he was?

Everyone at the Grove only seemed to know of him as a leader, scholar, healer, and powerful Druid. In truth, he hated the first, understood the importance of the second but did not actually enjoy it, was proud of the third but again, didn't consider it part of his identity, and rarely acknowledged the fourth as anything but a way to serve nature.

Even in the way they addressed him it quickly became clear it wasn't who he was. Halsin NEVER shows any comfort using the title of "Master Halsin"; it was a title the others used for him that he reluctantly went along with. The instant he leaves the Grove, he never uses it again. He's just Halsin.

He may have been fond of some of the Druids at the Grove, and most of the others were fond of him right back (hell, even Kagha, if she is pushed away from the Shadow Druids, and then learns that Halsin perished in the goblin pen, laments that she will really miss him)... but none of them saw him. What they saw was a mask he had to wear, a role he had to play, because he had to. Because he was forced to and no one wanted the role back. (And seriously, he was desperate to give it up. It took his Grove nearly being taken over by the Shadow Druids and Halsin having to leave to help end a potentially world-ending threat for them to agree to send a replacement. You can't tell me the guy didn't try to pawn the position off before, only for his Circle to say "no".)

The refugees see him as a protector (which he is) but as the leader, as the most powerful one. The Druids see him as a lot of things- a leader, good or bad; some see him as weak and a failure, others see him as beyond a reproach and someone to put on a pedestal; they see him as the BEST healer of all, the most POWERFUL Druid they know, the SMARTEST, the STRONGEST, an "elf with the presence of a bear"...

But the one thing he can't be around them is "just Halsin."

He couldn't even trust any of them with the full truth when he discovered the altered tadpole; Nettie had suspicions, but he didn't tell her the full truth, he immediately swore off telling Kagha with the reasoning that she would demand answers he couldn't provide (expecting too much from him), and in fact, he was so worried about this that he split his notes into two.

So then along comes the player, who first finds him in an extremely vulnerable position- being tortured by goblins. Halsin says in as many words that he didn't think anyone was coming for him. Halsin didn't think the people he was charged to lead and protect cared enough for him to mount a rescue mission- and he was tragically right. (Granted, for some it was a matter of fear, inexperience, etc, but the fact remains.) The player rescues him, treats him as an equal despite this (and that's what he wants, he wants to be an equal with some expertise to share, not a leader), helps him to correct what he sees as the biggest mistake of his life, possibly pursues a romantic relationship with him where they are kind enough to not even hold it against him where he loses control of his powers and accidentally polymorphs during sex, and, in the newly added post-Drow scene, offers him guidance and counsel on something he's been unable to talk about for over 100 years, admitting that he lost perspective on it for just this reason. He had no peers and was forced into a leadership role so stressful that it made him romanticize his past as a sex slave in his own head because he was that desperate to not be responsible for the wellbeing of others, to not be relied on- even if the alternative was being treated as literal property and his autonomy repeatedly violated. That's how desperate he was.

Halsin's entire arc is how he's been lonely and isolated, always in different ways, but still the same thing. Misunderstood and scorned for his size, or kept as a prisoner, or with few friends, or losing his peers, or being forced into a leadership role with no equals or friends to take care of him, or so focused on his leadership duties that the chance to have a family (which he wanted desperately) passed him by... just one thing after another.

And then people wonder why he falls in love with the player so fast. The player is literally EVERYTHING he has been wishing for for over 100 years, not just in the romantic sense, but for everything. All he wanted was someone who would let him be HIMSELF, no pressures or responsibilities he was woefully unequipped to fulfill.

[sunnybunnyy2]

Two Wrongs Don’t Make A Right

Daryl Dixon x platonic!reader

Negan Smith x daughter!reader

WORD COUNT: 4.0k

TIME: season 7

Warnings: imprisonment, talk of rapists(briefly), talk of murder, mentions of Abe’s and Glenn’s deaths, arguments, mentions of saviours, mentions of what transpired in season six and seven, spoiler warning and bad writing.

CHAPTER 2 of the Dark Cell series

Series Masterlist Official Masterlist

This is long awaited! I'm sorry that this has taken so long but I have been making fanfics on Wattpad recently and if you are a fellow fanfic writer you understand how much unnecessary time it takes to come up with ideas and lines to make your character come to life. Thank you all for being so patient with me! Also, requests are open, and I will be redoing my master list, so look out for that. I have been influenced so yes, this is going to become a series so stay tuned! Now that I finished this part I have more motivation to actually write for this! I’d you want to be tagged in the series let me know! Thank you so much for reading<3

(if there is third person slip ups I’m sorry, I’m just so used to writing in third person :( )

The exchanges took place every night at around 1 a.m., and it had for the past seven days.

You would arrive carrying a plate or bowl of whatever leftover food you had managed to swipe from the kitchen or some dinner from the meals you would share with Negan. 

You had aimed to make the food before you went down so that it was still hot but it was risky as, there was a large chance that one of Negan's men would notice and alert your father, which would raise suspicion. 

The food consisted of Sandwiches, chicken, pasta, fish, soup and wraps. 

You wished you could do it more often, but you knew that it would largely increase the chances of you getting caught. 

You knew your punishment wouldn't be anywhere near how severe Daryl's would be. You also knew that as much as you pleaded your father would allow his pawns to have their fun in harming the long-haired man. You weren't quite sure why your father's men were so willing to starve and beat a man senseless to appear strong. Men and their egos you supposed. 

Your father could preach all he wanted about how he would do anything for his daughter, how he would move mountains to appease you. How he would kill anyone who dared to disrespect you (he had) but yet he couldn't try and be a better man. He couldn't put his rage and grieve the wicked world had caused him and help people instead of torturing broken people and turning people who wanted to survive into heartless killers. Turn them into him. 

You couldn't say you hated your father. You never could. But that certainly didn't mean you agreed with half the things he did. 

You could tell he cared what you thought of him. You were the last thing he had of your mother, but that didn't mean he listened to you when you expressed your opinion. 

You and your father were close before all of this happened, well before you found out about his affair. After that day you hated everything about him. Even when your mother got sick and he stood by her, did everything for her. You weren't sure if it was because of how guilty he felt for betraying her or because he loved her. 

Normally you would insist on it being the first but now she was at a loss. 

Since your mother's demise, your once childish but thoughtful father had turned into a power-hungry greedy man. At first you gave him the benefit of the doubt. He was grieving and was trying to find a way to cope with the loss of the woman he loved but it was as though he was forgetting that his daughter had lost her mother.

He wanted to make you happy, so he gifted you the biggest room in the sanctuary and allowed you to purchase whatever you desired without working, though you often helped with the growing crops in the back of the sanctuary. Your father never really liked the idea of her around the fence but he backed down after a heated argument between you. He did send some of his men to keep an eye on you, he tried to be discreet but his men were less than. 

You always made sure to bring a large glass of tap water from your room down to his cell, wanting to at least make sure he didn't die of dehydration. 

You knew that his physical health wasn't as bad as it was before but you knew that his mental health was still declining. He had been locked in the tiny cell for weeks on end, the only sound filling his ears was the constant lyrics of the song 'East Street'. 

The bags under his eyes were proof enough of the lack of sleep he had been receiving. The way his eyes could barely focus on one thing when you would bring him his meals was another important factor in your conclusion. 

Since your visits had become more frequent he had uttered his name quietly into the comfortable silence that had filled the cell as he hastily inhaled what was in front of him. It was so quiet that you had barely heard him, but once you realized that it wasn't your imagination you smiled softly to yourself before muttering your name as well. 

In your mind, you were friends. You knew his name, he knew yours, you would bring him food, he would be thankful and you were both the highlight of each other's day. 

Daryl- because he wasn't rapidly dropping weight as he had been before from his lack of food, which in turn kept his brain running so he could coax his thoughts into coming up with a plan to escape his captivity. Plus your company wasn't so bad he reckoned.

You- because you got to meet another survivor from a rivalling group, you had heard your father angrily ranting to his soldiers about how this mysterious group had taken out one of his many posts and killed everyone in it. 

You were shocked at how brutal this group could be but you knew that your father could be even more heartless and it was proven when a week later whispers were passed along through the sanctuary that your father had partaken in another one of his lineups and had bashed in two members of Daryl's groups heads in with Lucille. 

You knew that Daryl's group had killed countless people, saviours but at least their families and friends didn't have to see it, as apparently the people from the outpost were killed while they slept. It was a very cowardly way to kill but it was better in a way, they didn't see it coming. 

You clutched the tray of food which consisted of a slice of ham from a pig the saviours had recently slaughtered as a way to celebrate the new community they had under their control, standing with the other few that they had taken over. With a side of carrots that you had picked herself to give him some energy. 

Then finally a generous helping of mashed potatoes to fill him up, as you knew that a small sandwich was going to get him through the day. Well, you guessed it was two, as Dwight had made sure to feed him a dog food sandwich every other day to keep him going. A dark pork gravy from the brand Bisto (clubhouse is better but whatever) that was covering a large portion of the potatoes. Your father did always say that you made it taste even better when you made it.

Your eyes peeked around the sharp corner to make sure Arat was on her way to her break that she always made sure to hide, always quick on her feet to head to her room to get several strong minutes of shut-eye. 

Your eyes caught sight of Arat quietly creeping her way further and further away from Daryl's new home. You waited a couple of minutes until you were sure she was in her room, possibly already captivated by sleep. You placed one foot in front of the other as you too, crept down the hallway, the fear of getting caught burning fear into her veins.

You balanced the tray on one hand as you reached into your left pocket, to pull out the cell key that you had stolen from Laura, well it wasn't quite stealing, she had dropped it and hadn't even noticed. You could still remember her confused face when she caught you on the ground after catching you mid-grab. You smiled at her and played it off as if you were tying your shoe, which she bought as she shot you a smile and continued on with her ranting. 

You turned the key clockwise into the rusting metal, smiling in satisfaction when the lock clicked quietly as a sign that it was now unlocked.

The creak that was loudly pulled from the door as it was opened left you cringing as you quickly shuffled into the room, closing the door until there was only a fragment of it for a little bit of light but it wasn't large enough to draw suspicion towards your meetings. 

You could already see Daryl gazing up at you as you pulled the door closed, before lowering yourself to the floor, holding your hands out as a sign for him to take the plate which he did. He had loosened up a large amount since you had started being him food a week ago. 

He was still stand-offish and didn't like to talk about his group which you didn't blame him for, you were with the enemy, you were his daughter. You weren't sure if he knew of your status at the sanctuary but if he did, it didn't come from you. It had already taken a great amount of effort to gain his trust and you wouldn't want it broken just because of who your father was. 

If he brought it up, you would talk to him about it, but for now, you didn't want to risk losing one of the only people that didn't just suck up to you because they wanted more points or because they were scared to face your father's wrath if they hurt your feelings. 

"Hey, sorry I was late, Arat took longer than usual to hit the deck." You quickly explained as expected the food in a curious glint in his eyes. "It's ham. Sorry, I didn't know if you liked it but they just killed a pig and me and my-... I had some for dinner earlier, it was good... and there's potatoes obviously, there's some cheese in them too with carrots and gravy." His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you in question just as he had been since you had almost slipped up. "Don't worry, it's not poisoned well... at least I hope it isn't because I ate the same thing but I guess we'll find out."

He let a harsh breath out of his nose that sounded similar to a laugh before he picked up the metal fork before shoving a large bite of potatoes in his mouth, a barely audible groan fell from his lips as he continued to inhale the food, not even bothering to use the knife that you had brought to cut the meat, opting to just pick it up with his hands. 

If it was anyone else you would find the wild eating disgusting, but you understood. He was being starved as a torture method to force him into submission. You had seen this countless times, but nearly all had caved within the first few days. It was shocking to you how strong he was. If it had been you... you weren't sure how long you could last if you were in the same position. 

From how wild he was eating you could only assume today wasn't the day he got fed from Dwight. 

You assumed you did well with the amount of food you had given him. 

You kept your eyes trained on the opened part of the door to make sure the coast was clear still. Normally this side of the sanctuary was almost always deserted, but since Daryl as been held here, you had noticed a lot of working people wanted to catch a glimpse of one of the Alexandrians who had killed numerous soldiers. You weren't sure if was from fear or awe. 

"Why are you doing this." He asked as he looked up from his half-eaten plate of food, to examine you while you spoke as if to see if you would lie to him. 

"I don't like how he's handing this. I mean... what your group did was wrong. Really wrong. But what he's doing to you isn't right. No one should have to deal with this. I mean other than rapists, pedophiles, or child killers. I mean murder is really bad but there are some ways to excuse it, like self-defence but I mean the worlds over. People kill each other every day to survive. Don't make it right but it makes sense. You did what you thought you had to, to 'save' your group." You ranted slightly as you looked down.

"So you're doing this because I deserve better?" Daryl asked with a quiet snort as though he couldn't fathom the thought of someone actually thinking he was a decent guy. 

"Everyone deserves better in some way. But no, some people just need a little help sometimes. You do, so I'm trying to help you." You said as watched him proceed with eating.

He looked up at you after he took yet another bite of his food. "I ain't need no help." He dismissed with a huff as he finished the last of his food.

"Obviously you do. Everybody does. You're no exception." You disagreed as he watched for any signs of Arat possibly returning earlier than usual.

"So why ya helping me? I'm sure the big man has more bitchs." He all but growled as he thought about your father causing your face to drop slightly as he kept your eyes away from him, in hopes of him not being able to see your full life story from just the shine in your eyes. Daryl looked like the type to be able to, you thought.

"He has some other... people in cells-" You were cut off by Daryl as he let out a dangerous scoff that should have had you scared. You were in a closed space with someone who wanted your father dead, I mean sure he didn't know that you and the man he hated most shared the same blood but it didn't matter. You were a Smith and that would never change. No matter how much you hoped and prayed that your father would suddenly turn a new leaf, it never seemed to happen. So at some point, you just saved your previously wasted breath. 

"Ya mean prisoners?" He spoke sharply, his words not a question but a statement, showcasing how enraged he truly was with her father. 

"Yeah...prisoners. There is some down here, yes. But they deserve it." You said while shaking your head as you thought about the awful people that were locked down here.

"Ain't nobody deserve this shit." He said with his whole chest as his eyes scanned your face with a mixture of hate and disgust at your words. You couldn't blame him though, he was locked in a cell and you had just said that the people locked in them deserved it. 

"They're awful people. Rapists, child killers, people who kill without reason-"

"I ain't no rapist and I ain't no child killers. Me and my people had every righ-"

"Nobody has a right to take someone's life. Who made us god? When did we get to choose who got to live and who got to die?" You argued as you furrowed your brows at the man's words.

"How bout' ya tell yer buddy that? He killed my friends." He raised his voice louder than necessary which earned him a dirty look from you as you peeked out of the sliver of the door that shined light into the cell and once you were sure no one was coming with guns raised you turned back to face him. 

"You killed dozens of his men while they were sleeping. You do realize that, right? I'm not saying what he did was right either, but you're lucky he didn't kill more of your people." You ranted slightly as you looked at him in confusion, he was so stuck in his own misery that he wasn't thinking about how other people were affected by his and his group's actions. 

"Lucky? He bashed my friend's heads in." He said angrily but it was quiet. As if trying to scare you into submission but you didn't back down.

"And I'm sorry for your friends. I really am. But you couldn't have thought that your group could get away with slaughtering- and it was a slaughtering,  his men and get away scot-free. You killed his soldiers. He takes that shit as a personal attack. So when I say I'm surprised he didn't kill more of you I mean it." 

"One of my friends' wives was pregnant' ya think she deserved ta see that? Now tha' kid's gonna grow up without a father."

"Of course not. That's awful and I'm so sorry...but some of the men and women you slaughtered had kids. Wives. Parents. They had people who loved them too. One of the men, Mike, had a pregnant wife at one of the other outposts. She was eight months and gave birth to her baby girl two days after he died. Alone. And a woman, Mel, just got married to the man she loved, they were trying for a baby... He killed himself last week. Hung himself in his room all alone." You paused for a moment to see if he was going to speak up but when he didn't, you continued.

"An-and a woman named Willow had a baby at another outpost. Now that baby has to grow up without a mother. Another man named Carlos was an only child and had to work for points to provide for his parents. They're old and can't do it themselves. Now they're barely eating and are so depressed that their health is deteriorating, we're not sure how long they have left. So I'm sorry that your friends lost people they cared about but you didn't just get your group hurt with your guy's actions. You guys ruined so many lives that night." 

You finished your rant as you shook your head, looking up at him only to see him looking down at his hands, his overgrown hair hung low to cover his eyes, masking his true reaction.

"I'm not trying to say that your friends' deaths don't matter but you can't just go around acting like you didn't kill people either. Like everyone else's pain doesn't matter to not feel guilty. But it does." You said quietly before deciding you had spent long enough in the stuffy cell. You reached over, grabbing the plate from in front of him before pulling yourself to your feet. You waited for him to speak again but he didn't bother and once you turned around he noticed that he hadn't moved from his place. 

"Good night." You shook your head before he pulled the creaky door open a little more so the gap was large enough to fit your body through, closing it until you felt the metal clank quietly against metal. 

You pulled out the key and shoved it into the lock, twisting it quickly before you heard quiet footsteps walking down the hallway from where Arat had left from. It seemed like you had left at the perfect time, you supposed.

You quietly but hastily quickened your pace until you were at the same corner you had looked over from around fifteen minutes prior. 

You watched as Arat ran a hand over her short black and bleached blonde hair as she let out a yawn, swaying on her feet slightly from the over-tiredness she was experiencing, which was probably in full swing by the shortness of her sleep. 

You let out a quiet sigh of relief before you quietly made your way in the direction of her room, the plate held tightly in your grasp as you walked past the mostly deserted sanctuary, sending a small smile to some of the saviours on watch duty. Most sent one back your way, while others seemed annoyed at the fact that they had duty at all, leaving them too aggravated to bother.

You were about to turn the handle of your door when you heard a voice stop you.

"Baby? What are you doin' up? It's late." Your father's voice stopped you in your tracks. A part of you wanted to run into your room and pretend that you had been sleepwalking but you knew your father knew you better than that and could almost always tell when you were fake sleeping. It was an odd talent if you were to be frank. So you turned around with a smile and spoke.

"I couldn't sleep. Decided to take a walk." You lied.

"With an empty plate of food?" He asked with raised eyebrows a sarcastic smirk on his face.

"...I got hungry on the way. Just heated up some leftovers from dinner. Didn't know that was a crime, Dad." You huffed in an attempt to sound believable.

"It's late. You could have woken me up. I would have walked with you." He said as he studied you. 

"Seriously, dad? Literal armed guards are crawling the place. I think I'm okay walking to the kitchen. Plus you barely sleep as it is." You rolled your eyes at his mindset.

"I always have time for you, hunny... so who's the boy? Or girl. I don't discriminate. Hell, ya could be in love with a goddamn pumpkin and I would still approve. Maybe a little weirded out but hey, we all have our kinks." He smirked but his nose scrunched up slightly as he realized he was talking to his daughter and not one of his henchmen. 

"Oh, wow, you figured it out. His name is Donteatmyseedsplease. I didn't want to keep it from you but I don't think you would approve. I'm so very glad I have your support, father dearest." You said in an overly happy voice even your eyes rolled with almost every word you spoke. You turned back to your door and turned ten knob, not going in as though to not give your father the opportunity to join you.

"You'll have to bring him over for dinner sometime we'll have squash." 

"That wasn't funny Dad." 

"Damn, you know how to wound a man's ego. Good girl, I taught you well." He said in a proud tone.

"I'm exhausted. Can we talk tomorrow? I wanted to talk to you about something actually..." You spoke as you pushed your door open even wider than it had been and started to make her way into your large room.

"That's never good." He groaned before he leaned over to land a kiss atop your head. "I'll see you tomorrow, baby. I'm busy but I always have time for you." He pulled away and sent a smile your way which you returned before closing the door and leaning against it. A sigh of relief left your lips as you realized you were in the clear.

TAG LIST: @cult-of-norman @book-place @ilovespiderpeople @kazunish @mysouleaten

(let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list for the future chapters!)

[cavegirlpoems]

Heya! I could swear you once posted about how there are a lot of parallels between PbtA and OSR games in terms of desired playstyle, but I'm no longer sure if you posted it here on Tumblr or elsewhere? Do you remember ever making a post like that or did I dream it?

OK SO here we go, this is a list of parallels in no particular order: -both are extremely fiction-first, with the conversational back-and-forth the default mode of play only occasionally punctuated by mechanics. -both tend towards the rules-light end of the spectrum. -both are deeply concerned with rewards and feedback mechanisms as drivers of play. -both reject the idea of a general mechanic that you apply however you want, at the gm/table's discretion, with wiggle room on what it means. Instead both tend to have a single distinct mechanic that you apply in a very specific situation that's fine-tuned for that situation. -both are concerned with emulation, either of genre or of setting. -both have simple pre-packaged character options - classes or playbooks - and tend to be fairly low on character optimisation and customisation. -both focus very heavilly on 'play to find out', aka 'emergent narratives' aka 'player-driven sandbox games', and strongly reject linear pre-planned plots. -both tend to encourage stepping away from actor-only immersion as the only stance, encouraging you too see your character not as an avatar of yourslf but as a pawn with which you interact with the world. In practic I've found that playing/running pbta makes you better at osr and visa versa. They occupy a similar space of being fiction-first generators of emergent narratives that punctuate the conversation with occasional codified mechanics. It's a third point both share that's quite distinct from trad games and very narrativist games.

[sailor-aviator]

Two Birds: Prologue

Two Birds: Prologue

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader x Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Summary: Growing up in the midwest meant that you weren't exposed to many of the dangers of the world, and it also meant that you missed out on some of what life had to offer. Taking a leap, you move to New York City with a few personal belongings and the little money you have left in your savings. You become good friends with your roommate and, by extension, the people at the club she works at. However, it isn't long until you catch the eye of not one, but two mafia bosses that rule the city with an iron grip. Will you stay out of their clutches, or will you give in and become another pawn in their wicked games? (Mafia!AU)

Content Warnings: Talk of moving, Worried mom, Mentions of city, Overly enthusiastic roommate. There's not much to this, it's just the prologue lol

Word Count: 1.4k+

Series Masterlist

“Are you sure about this?”

You let out a heavy sigh, feeling the tell-tale signs of a headache tugging at your temples. You reached your hands up to rub gently at them, closing your eyes for a brief moment before opening them to glance at your mother. Her eyes held nothing but worry and apprehension as she stared at you, her lips pressed into a firm line as her eyes ran over you, her fingertips twitching nervously on the counter in the kitchen.

You knew why she was worried, and you supposed any good mother would be. You had announced a couple of weeks before that you were intending on packing up and leaving for New York City. A change in your life was needed, a need for something bigger, and to you, New York held the answers. You had dreamed of the big city since you were small, having visited once when you seven and having been enamored with the bright lights and the way that something always seemed to be happening. It wasn’t that you didn’t like your small town life, but the predictable days and repeating patterns of the town you grew up in had long since played out. It was time to depart and spread your wings, time to grow and blossom into the person you were always meant to be.

“I’m sure, Mom,” you sighed, resigning yourself to the same conversation the two of you had had at last three times a week since you announced the plan for your move.

“It’s just,” she paused, moving to wipe down the counter for the third time in the last couple minutes, “you know I worry, and it’s so different from what you know. The city isn’t like what you’ve grown up with.”

“I know,” you muttered, hands gripping your glass of water tightly. “That’s kind of the point.”

“I want you to do what it is you need and want,” she continued, “but you’ll be all alone out there, sweetie. It’ll be hard for me or your father to come out and help you if you need it.”

“I know that too,” you replied, furrowing your brows, “but Mom, I really think this will be good for me. It’ll be good for me to try and be completely on my own, to experience the world as a full-fledged adult. Besides, if I fail, I can always come home, right?”

“Of course, honey,” your mother cooed, her face softening as she looked at you once more. “You can always come home. You know there’s always a place for you here.”

“Thanks, Mom,” you smiled, taking a sip of your water.

“It’s just,” it was your mother’s turn to sigh now, “does it have to be New York? Couldn’t you have picked somewhere like St.Louis?”

“St.Louis still feels kind of small town despite the size,” you reminded her. “I wanted a place that felt like a real city. Somewhere where the buildings reach up past the sky and somewhere that never sleeps.”

“You mean a place where crime is around every corner and people are just waiting to mug you,” she grumbled, not meeting your eye.

“St.Louis has a pretty high crime rate too,” you scoffed, smiling at the scowl she sent your way.

“I’m serious, honey,” she sighed, resting her hand on the counter in front of you. “New York isn’t like here. You need to make sure that you’re being careful, okay?”

You smiled at her, nodding slowly as her lips turned downward.

“Of course, Mom,” you assured her, taking her hand in yours. “Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

She gave you a doubtful look before turning towards the fridge off to the side, pulling it open and considering the contents inside.

“I’m thinking spaghetti for dinner,” she said finally, glancing over at where you still sat. “How’s that sound?”

You gave her a tight-lipped smile, groaning internally and knowing that the conversation was over for now.

“Sounds great,” you replied, moving to stand, “how about I grab the noodles?”

A few weeks later and you found yourself departing from your home, only two suitcases full of your belongings that you couldn’t do without as you boarded the plane headed east. The flight was wholly uneventful, your music and audiobooks keeping you company as you tried not to think about the turbulence that shook the plane from time to time. Before you knew it, you had landed, catching your Uber as it pulled up to the curb.

You watched with fascination as the city lights grew bigger and brighter the closer you got, the throngs of people slowing traffic, but you were too excited to pay it much mind. Your head raced with the thoughts of what your new life would be like, the promise of adventure tugging at your heart as your eyes darted all about.

“You ever been to the city?” Your driver asked, eyes glued to the road as he turned down one of the many streets.

“Once,” you replied, face all but pressed up against the car window. The man chuckled as he pulled up to the curb in front of what you assumed to be your apartment building.

“Give it a couple of weeks,” he smiled, “you’ll be sick of it by then.”

You thanked the man, sliding out of the backseat and grabbing your suitcases from the trunk, waving at him as he pulled off for his next ride. You took a deep breath, walking up the stoop and finding the button for your new apartment. The buzzer sounded as you pressed the button, pulling your hand away as you waited.

The intercom crackled to life that sent your heart pattering in your chest.

“What?” Came the voice on the other end, the girl sounding somewhat put out.

“Uh, hi,” you breathed, shifting on your feet awkwardly. “I’m looking for Annie. She’s supposed to be my new roommate?”

A pause before the girl spoke your name in a question through the speaker.

“That’s me!” You chirped.

“Come on up!”

The buzzer sounded once more along with the click of the lock on the front door, and you swiftly pushed inside. The elevator rumbled its way down to you, and you eyed it warily as you stepped inside and pressed the button for the fifth floor. The box clunked rhythmically as it pulled you up to the designated floor, doors opening to an unassuming hallway. You walked slowly down the plain hall, your suitcases clattering alongside you as you stopped in front of the door marked 35. You raised your hand and gave three knocks, standing back on your heels as you waited.

A moment later, the door swung open to reveal a very pretty brunette smiling at you.

“Hey, babe!” She grinned, pulling you inside. You stumbled forward with a huff, turning just as Annie closed and locked the door behind you. She turned back to look at you, the smile still plastered to her face as she practically vibrated with excitement.

“Sorry about the mess,” she said as she walked past you to pick up a shirt that hung over the couch, “I forgot you were coming today. I’m Annie.”

She stuck out her hand for you to shake, and you took it, repeating your name with a shy smile.

“Look at you, you little country mouse,” Annie gushed as she led you further into the apartment. “You’re just a sweet, little thing, huh? Don’t you worry, I’ll show you the way around the city. You’ll be a pro in no time! Meantime, why don’t you go get settled? Your room is just through there and I’m across the hall, yeah? You hungry? I can order us some take in. Chinese sound good?”

“Uh, yeah,” you breathed, a little overwhelmed by your roommates zealousness. She seemed nice enough, but she was certainly a lot more than you were accustomed to.

“I know this place that has the best dumplings. Once you try one, you won’t ever want another, I’m telling you! Go on! Go put your bags up! Get changed! We have all night to get acquainted. I’ve been dying to speak to you face to face, Mouse.”

“Mouse?” You asked her, arching a brow at her. She grinned at you, waggling her own eyebrows as she did.

“Yeah, you know,” she waved her hand, “like that old story or whatever. Country mouse and city mouse.”

You let out a breath of a laugh, shaking your head in bemusement at your new roommate. Her grin grew wider as she grabbed her phone to place the order.

“You and I are going to be good friends, I guarantee it, Mouse,” she declared.

You had a feeling that she was right.

A/N: Here it is! I've been too excited to not write it, so I'm posting ahead of schedule as it were lol Here is the first fic of my summer lineup! As always, reblogs and comment are greatly appreciated! You can also find my works on AO3 under the username sailor_aviator. Until next time!

[cvlutos]

TWISTED WONDERLAND: MAFIA AU

Overview:

Night Raven City.

A beautifully rotten city, ruled by crime and all the bad things within the world. Where the government and police are merely pawns to the real owners of this horrid city.

NRC is divided into seven mafias. Seven mafias that operate in different parts of the city and need each other to maintain balance. There are few places in which the seven don't rule, and you happen to live within the said place. Which is known as The Ramshackle. Home too many that want nothing to do with the powerful groups. And one rule within the Damshackles is, "Do not stay out beyond midnight." Nothing good happens after the clock chimes 12.

Mafia Heartslabyul:

Heartslabyul, also know as the Queendom of Roses, is strict and as long as laws and rules are followed, you wouldn't even believe that you were within mafia territory. There's rarely crime's rarely crime, and the mafia doesn't bother the people within its territory unless said people are up to no good. Which causes a public showing of punishment, to deter others from crossing the Rose-Red Mafia.

Directly in control of healthcare and portions of the Law. All Hospitals must pay the H.M [Heartslabyul Mafia] taxes and go through them before working with anyone that could want to work against the mafia. As well as portions of the law are decided by people that are tied to the crimson group. Most simply pay what's owed and follow the strict rules within his district, unless you don't, which is like signing your own death certificate. Next thing you know, you'll find your head not attached to your neck.

༺❘✦Boss [Godfather]: Riddle Rosehearts

Title: Red-Rose Tyrant

Age: 22

The Boss is the head of the family, usually reigning as a dictator, sometimes called the Don or "Godfather". The boss receives a cut of every operation. Operations are taken on by every member of the family.

The Heartslabyul Mafia works similarly to a Kingdom, with the next boss being chosen from birth. Passed down from his mother, then from her mother. Riddle is the first son after nearly 50 years of being run by women. He's seen as hot- headed when mad, but also extremely reliable. Placing the concern of his people first.

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✦Underboss: Cater Diamond

Title: Tyrant's Lap Dog

Age: 23

The Underboss, usually appointed by the boss, is the second in command of the family. The underboss often runs the day-to-day responsibilities of the family or oversees its most lucrative rackets. He usually gets a percentage of the family's income from the boss's cut. The underboss is usually first in line to become acting boss if the boss is imprisoned, and is also frequently seen as a logical successor.

Cater Diamond was chosen by Riddle's mother to be his Underboss, and he has kept that position since Riddle has deemed him reliable enough to stay. Cater is seen as the only real person within the Mafia, and he's persuasive.

✦Consigliere: Trey Clover

Title: Tyrant's Right-Hand

Age: 24

The consigliere is an advisor to the family and is sometimes seen as the boss's "right-hand man". He is used as a mediator of disputes and often acts as a representative or aide for the family in meetings with other families, rival criminal organizations, and important business associates. In practice, the consigliere is normally the third-ranking member of the administration of a family and was traditionally a senior member carrying the utmost respect of the family and is deeply familiar with the inner workings of the organization. A boss will often appoint a trusted close friend or personal advisor as his official consigliere.

Trey Clover has been friends with Riddle since childhood, as well as he's family has been involved with the Heartslabyul mafia for generations, which makes them basically family. Trey is extremely reliable and everyone within Heartslabyul view him as family, with his kind appearance.

✦Caporegime [Capo]: Deuce Spade

Title: Tyrant's Guard Dog

Age: 19

A caporegime (also captain or skipper) is in charge of a crew, a group of soldiers who report directly to him. Each crew usually contains 10-20 soldiers and many more associates. A capo is appointed by the boss and reports to him or the underboss. A captain gives a percentage of his (and his underlings') earnings to the boss and is also responsible for any tasks assigned, including murder.

Deuce Spade was brought into the Mafia due to him messing with the wrong crowd and angering Riddle, so in order to not die, he pledged his loyalty. Over time climbing up the ranks from soldier to a Capo within 2 years. Many are conflicted with Deuce's sudden joining, but it isn't look down upon to join the Heartslabyul Mafia.

✦Associate: Ace Trappola

Title: Tyrant's Ace Card

Age: 19

An associate is not a member of the Mafia but works for a crime family nonetheless. Associates can include a wide range of people who work for the family. An associate can have a wide range of duties, from virtually carrying out the same duties as a soldier to being a simple errand boy.

Due to his father's business, Ace basically grew up running errands for the Mafia, and that hasn't changed. He works with his brother and has slightly closer ties to the Mafia due to his friendship with Deuce.

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Mafia SavannaClaw:

SavannaClaw District is damn near lawless and follows the rules of their mafia and the mafia alone. The Government and Police are basically useless. They represent the wild, with a lot of natural landscape, yet believe heavily in the idea of keeping women and children safe. Majority of the SavannaClaw mafia is made up of women. Crime happens often within their territory but is often handled with right away by their own civilians. The women of SavannaClaw don't involve themselves with average crime and hold a lot of power throughout all seven territories. No one dares to prevent them from getting justice.

SavannaClaw is directly in control of food resources and recreational places, such as parks, zoos, and nature parks. All stores and recreational places go to him directly and must pay the S.M taxes, as well as any other Mafias must pay S.M unless they have special permissions. SavannaClaw prides themselves on being fair and non-discriminatory. As long as you are respectful to them, if not, you'll find yourself within the lion's den.

༺❘✦Boss [Godfather]: Leona Kingscholar

Title: King of Beasts

Age: 26

The Boss is the head of the family, usually reigning as a dictator, sometimes called the Don or "Godfather". The boss receives a cut of every operation. Operations are taken on by every member of the family.

Another Mafia that works similarly to a Kingdom, but also follows the circle of life. Issues that happen within the district of SavannaClaw will be solved by those who live within SavannaClaw. Many retreat there for safety, even despite its dog-eats-dog world.

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✦Underboss: Ruggie Bucchi

Title: Heart of SavannaClaw

Age: 23

The Underboss, usually appointed by the boss, is the second in command of the family. The underboss often runs the day-to-day responsibilities of the family or oversees its most lucrative rackets. He usually gets a percentage of the family's income from the boss's cut. The underboss is usually first in line to become acting boss if the boss is imprisoned, and is also frequently seen as a logical successor.

Ruggie also acts as both Underboss and Consigliere, due to Leona wanting no one else as his Consigliere, which gives Ruggie many jobs to take care of, but also an extremely reliable part within SavannaClaw. Some say before Ruggie, Leona had a Consigliere, who was a different man, a huntsman, only for said man to leave Leona for another Mafia.

✦Caporegime [Capo]: Jack Howl

Title: Lion's Blood Hound

Age: 19

A caporegime (also captain or skipper) is in charge of a crew, a group of soldiers who report directly to him. Each crew usually contains 10-20 soldiers and many more associates. A capo is appointed by the boss and reports to him or the underboss. A captain gives a percentage of his (and his underlings') earnings to the boss and is also responsible for any tasks assigned, including murder.

Jack Howl purposely chose to join Leona's mafia, after leaving Pomefiore once the current Mafia Leader took over. He enjoys the real atmosphere and enjoys the freeing atmosphere that Pomefiore couldn't grant.

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Mafia Octavinelle:

Octavinelle is one of the most dangerous parts of the city. Violence and crimes at all times, there are truly 2 parts to Octavinelle. Uptown and Downtown. Uptown is where the richest and wealthiest are, where the best restaurants are, the best stores, and the best everything. If you have the money and style, you can live the best life within Octavinelle.

Downtown Octavinelle is the exact opposite, dirty and grungy, the worse of the worse and the Mafia will simply turn a blind eye. Crimes happen often and no one solves them. If you're dead, then you're dead. Better luck next time. This Mafia is truly ruthless and isn't for the faint of heart. The police within its territory is as dangerous as the mafia, often paid to simply slack around, not to do their job.

Octavinelle gets most of its profit from restaurants, and stores, as well as making deals luring people into debt. His deals are super influential that not even the other six mafia bosses can intervene, except to tell others to be completely wary of him. There is no true honor code, aside from written agreements. Break his deal, and you'd possibly find yourself drowning.

༺❘✦Boss [Godfather]: Azul Ashengrotto

Title: Merchant of the Deep

Age: 23

The Boss is the head of the family, usually reigning as a dictator, sometimes called the Don or "Godfather". The boss receives a cut of every operation. Operations are taken on by every member of the family.

One can view Octavinelle as a large capitalistic corporation, and Azul takes full advantage of his people without any trouble. He continues to try to expand his territory and plans to have Ramshackle under his jurisdiction.

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✦Underboss: Jade Leech

Title: Calm-Headed Sadist

Age: 23

The Underboss, usually appointed by the boss, is the second in command of the family. The underboss often runs the day-to-day responsibilities of the family or oversees its most lucrative rackets. He usually gets a percentage of the family's income from the boss's cut. The underboss is usually first in line to become acting boss if the boss is imprisoned, and is also frequently seen as a logical successor.

Jade has also taken control of the position of Consigliere for his own liking and is quite busy. Seen almost all the time in all places. Yet he isn't loved, he's absolutely feared. If you see Jade Leech around you, it's better to simply pray that he isn't there for you.

✦Caporegime [Capo]: Floyd Leech

Title: Sadistic Eel

Age: 23

A caporegime (also captain or skipper) is in charge of a crew, a group of soldiers who report directly to him. Each crew usually contains 10-20 soldiers and many more associates. A capo is appointed by the boss and reports to him or the underboss. A captain gives a percentage of his (and his underlings') earnings to the boss and is also responsible for any tasks assigned, including murder.

Floyd is almost as equally disliked as Jade. He's known for his aggressiveness and is often in charge of any major incidents that involve murder. It's best that if you see him, to walk the other way and look boring enough that he'll leave you alone.

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Mafia Scarabia:

The 2nd most violent district, after the new Mafia Boss, became in charge. Scarabia, also known as Scalding Sands, is beautiful in the land, and the people are genuinely sweet and kind, yet the violence is never checked, due to said kindness. Scalding Sands is also one of the largest district. The first largest SavannaClaw, aka the Sunset Savanna, 2nd is Octavinelle, aka the Coral Sea, and 3rd is Scalding Sands. This is an extremely rich mafia group, one of the largest due to its economy.

Scarabia gains profit from the selling of seasonings, oil, and rare minerals. Which gives Scarabia the nickname, The land of Gold. The Scarabia Mafia is tied closely to the Government, influencing them directly. Those that outright disrespect Scarabia, this will definitely leave you stranded in the desert.

༺❘✦Boss [Godfather]: Kalim Al-Asim

Title: Silly Sultan

Age: 22

The Boss is the head of the family, usually reigning as a dictator, sometimes called the Don or "Godfather". The boss receives a cut of every operation. Operations are taken on by every member of the family.

Kalim was appointed by his father and is generous and kind, which is the primary cause for the heightened crimes and violence, due to his blind optimism and clear unawareness of the suffering of his people.

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✦Underboss: Jamil Viper

Title: Level-Head Right-Hand

Age: 22

The Underboss, usually appointed by the boss, is the second in command of the family. The underboss often runs the day-to-day responsibilities of the family or oversees its most lucrative rackets. He usually gets a percentage of the family's income from the boss's cut. The underboss is usually first in line to become acting boss if the boss is imprisoned, and is also frequently seen as a logical successor.

Jamil, in some circles, is seen as the true Boss of Scarabia, with his level- headedness and trying to actually help Scarabia. Though many more are loyal to Kalim. Some say that Jamil is a snake hidden, waiting for the best moment to strike.

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Mafia Pomefiore:

Pomefiore, once known as the Shaftlands, the Entertainment District, is filled to the brim with Models, Actors, and anyone that wants to be a star, famous, and beloved. This is the best district to live in if you want forever entertainment, even though it's extremely dangerous and fake. Following strict rules, especially if you want to succeed. This industry is cutthroat and not just anyone can be famous, especially since the Mafia controls the media. During the day it's a picturesque aesthetic, the same as the night sites. But if you're simply the average person, it's dangerous. Many escaped the tyrannical rule of the Pomefiore Mafia.

Pomefiore is in charge of NRC's entertainment and tourism, and NRC relies heavily on it, bringing in large amounts of the city's money. Pomefiore is one of the most aesthetically pleasing Mafia, that is a constant presence, that in some parts, seen as an honor to be graced by the mafia, in others, is a complete nightmare that could leave you poisoned.

༺❘✦Boss [Godfather]: Vil Schoenheit

Title: The Fairest

Age: 24

The Boss is the head of the family, usually reigning as a dictator, sometimes called the Don or "Godfather". The boss receives a cut of every operation. Operations are taken on by every member of the family.

Vil rose to power due to his fast popularity, taking over Pomefiore single- handedly and modeling the District into his own. Many love him, while others are scared of him and ran to escape.

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✦Underboss: Rook Hunt

Title: The Queen's Hunter

Age: 24

The Underboss, usually appointed by the boss, is the second in command of the family. The underboss often runs the day-to-day responsibilities of the family or oversees its most lucrative rackets. He usually gets a percentage of the family's income from the boss's cut. The underboss is usually first in line to become acting boss if the boss is imprisoned, and is also frequently seen as a logical successor.

Rook Hunt, at one point, worked for the Mafia Boss of SavannaClaw, before the two Mafia Leaders clashed and Rook chose Vil over SavannaClaw, taking the position as Vil's Underboss and Consigliere. Many view Rook as weird and often avoid him as a whole. If you ever see Rook, that will absolutely be your last time alive.

✦Caporegime [Capo]: Epel Felmier

Title: Pretty Boy

Age: 19

A caporegime (also captain or skipper) is in charge of a crew, a group of soldiers who report directly to him. Each crew usually contains 10-20 soldiers and many more associates. A capo is appointed by the boss and reports to him or the underboss. A captain gives a percentage of his (and his underlings') earnings to the boss and is also responsible for any tasks assigned, including murder.

Epel was forced into the Mafia after causing some trouble with a group of kids. Vil liked the way Epel looked and forced him to train and work to become his capo. Epel hates it and actively disrespects him.

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Mafia Ignihyde:

No one knows much about the Ignihyde District, aka the Underworld. It is genuinely a ghost town during the day, and anyone you do see immediately runs. The city is operated by machines until the sun sets and Ignihyde is alive. With events and parties, with stores open and bright lights. Unlike the foggy day, where you can barely see 3 feet in front of you. Violence is extremely rare, due to the fear of getting chased by Ignihyde Mafia's robot dogs, which are extremely violent, and most people that interact with the dogs don't come out alive.

The majority of Ignihyde's income comes from the selling of technology and weapons. From security systems to machine guns. There is no project too difficult to complete if the amount of money is high enough. Ignihyde, though, is extremely protective of their machines and if you're caught tampering with one, it will lead you 6 feet under.

༺❘✦Boss [Godfather]: Idia Shroud

Title: King of Underworld

Age: 23

The Boss is the head of the family, usually reigning as a dictator, sometimes called the Don or "Godfather". The boss receives a cut of every operation. Operations are taken on by every member of the family.

Idia was chosen by his parents and has been boss for as long as anyone could remember, though most have never seen what he looks like. Many believe that they have to be worthy enough to look upon him. They wouldn't believe that he's a huge, anxious introvert.

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✦Underboss: Ortho Shroud

Title: Sibling of the King

Age: 16?

The Underboss, usually appointed by the boss, is the second in command of the family. The underboss often runs the day-to-day responsibilities of the family or oversees its most lucrative rackets. He usually gets a percentage of the family's income from the boss's cut. The underboss is usually first in line to become acting boss if the boss is imprisoned, and is also frequently seen as a logical successor.

One of the youngest within the Mafia to have such a powerful position. He's both the Underboss and Consigliere and is constantly seen running any errands, big or small. Ortho is extremely friendly, yet if you disrespect Idia, you disrespect him. So, any ill speaking of Idia ends with your soul in the afterlife.

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Mafia Diasomnia:

Diasomnia District, aka Briar Valley, is the quietest and often forgotten, even though it has the most influential power. Many don't ever leave the Diasomnia District and never interact with the Mafia, so it's an honor seeing the Mafia in person. Similar to Heartslabyul, which Diasomnia is inspired by, so has various similarities to, it's an honor to be within the Diasomnia Mafia, and many love their existence. It's orderly and most of the people within Diasomnia have amazing influence and power. Little to none chaos or violence occurs, and is one of the safest districts, with slight problems due to discrimination.

Diasomnia has major control over everything and is super influential. Their money comes from everywhere and anyone, even if that means doing unsavory things. No one dares to talk bad about the Diasomnia mafia, lest you wanna be put into an endless sleep.

༺��✦Boss [Godfather]: Malleus Draconia

Title: King of Briar Valley

Age: 28

The Boss is the head of the family, usually reigning as a dictator, sometimes called the Don or "Godfather". The boss receives a cut of every operation. Operations are taken on by every member of the family.

No one has ever seen Malleus but knows of his strength within the Briar Valley, which is the for the Diasomnia District. Everyone fears, yet absolutely cherish him and never wants his reign to end.

══════

✦Underboss: Silver

Title: Sleeping Knight

Age: 22

The Underboss, usually appointed by the boss, is the second in command of the family. The underboss often runs the day-to-day responsibilities of the family or oversees its most lucrative rackets. He usually gets a percentage of the family's income from the boss's cut. The underboss is usually first in line to become acting boss if the boss is imprisoned, and is also frequently seen as a logical successor.

Silver is unique out of the Mafia. No one knows where he came from, nor why he's important enough to be underboss, but he is. Having been raised to someday take the position.

✦Consigliere: Lilia Vanrouge

Title: General

Age: 32

The consigliere is an advisor to the family and is sometimes seen as the boss's "right-hand man". He is used as a mediator of disputes and often acts as a representative or aide for the family in meetings with other families, rival criminal organizations, and important business associates. In practice, the consigliere is normally the third-ranking member of the administration of a family and was traditionally a senior member carrying the utmost respect of the family and is deeply familiar with the inner workings of the organization. A boss will often appoint a trusted close friend or personal advisor as his official consigliere.

Lilia is scary. Frightening. Yet acts like that of a child. He's weird and his behavior is odd. Most remember him to have a more serious appearance, than the boyish one he has now, which confuses many.

✦Caporegime [Capo]: Sebek Zigvolt

Title: Cap' Croc, Yapping Crocodile, & Most Loyal Knight

Age: 19

A caporegime (also captain or skipper) is in charge of a crew, a group of soldiers who report directly to him. Each crew usually contains 10-20 soldiers and many more associates. A capo is appointed by the boss and reports to him or the underboss. A captain gives a percentage of his (and his underlings') earnings to the boss and is also responsible for any tasks assigned, including murder.

His title, Yapping Crocodile was created by Leona from SavannaClaw, due to his constant yelling in defense of Malleus, which stuck with him as he rose the ranks to Capo. Silver calls him Cap' Croc, cause it's also funny. Sebek is like any other member of the Diasomnia Mafia, is to prove himself.

Information:

Magic exists, yet is rarely used. Outdated. And in some places, frowned upon. The existence of beastman, fae, and merpeople, as well as humans still exists. Immorality is still a thing—aswell as overblots. Mafia Leaders are still the only ones who use magic on a regular bases.

Each of the mafia districts had an original name. For example, The Heartslabyul District, but their district was originally named Queendom of Roses. This is due to the overarching power that the Mafia holds, that each district is named after the Mafia instead of its original Name. They are still identified as they're old names on maps, but they're lost to those inside the Districts, depending on their mafia.

Ramshackle isn't considered a district, even though it's big enough to be one, but is rather large and runs on its own, and is located on the outskirts of NRC. Ramshackle isn't under the control of any Mafia.

All 7 districts meet surround a circle of NRC, where the Government is mainly based as well as those rich that can afford to be outside of the Mafia but are still reliant upon them.

Anyone can visit different districts, though many choose not to unless they have written documents that allow you within other districts, as well as paying a small fee. Some Districts are harder to get into than others.

For example, SavannaClaw requires valid documents and as long as they're valid and you carry them with you at all times, you're completely safe and welcome. But if you want to go to Octavinelle and you don't live there, you're required to pay a fee of nearly 50 dollars ~ 100 thaumarks to simply visit, and if you want to leave, it requires months' notice. In some districts, it's better to stay than to try to leave.

Not all districts get along, though some are more respected than others.

For example, Pomefiore is one of the first and longest existing mafias within NRC, with Heartslabyul the second longest, having a deeply rooted influence that lasts generations. So Pomefiore and Heartslabyul highly respect each other.

Rivalries Exist. Due to the participation in sports, Each District has its own sports teams that compete with each other and the best players move on and can join NRC's main team. Though these competitions are extremely political and determine various things.

NRC Government:

Controlled by Dire Crowley, who decided years ago that instead of continuous Mafia and Gang wars, they would merely allow the Mafia certain territories and districts in order to keep the peace and it has been that way since. Though many view him as unreliable and a coward, Crowley has prevented the deaths of many, to the best of his abilities, limiting the spread of the seven mafias. Forcing them to act only within their district and stopping them from spreading to other cities.

RSA Heroes:

RSA is a neighboring city that's been directly impacted by NRC's growing problem. The RSA Heroes are a group of people that actively fight against the Mafias, and aid those that want to escape NRC, which has gained the popularity of those within Ramshackle and has caused problems for the seven mafias. Some mafias which that personally want to get rid of the Ramshackles and force them to live within the Districts.

Noble Bell City:

An equally corrupt far-off city, that often meets with the mafia leaders of NRC, yet views them as brash. NBC isn't different from NRC, except for their current governor, Rollo Flamm, who controls all of NBC, which makes it a toxic and dangerous city. Has attempted to lure Ramshackle and make it part of NBC, which angered Diasomnia.

The Ramshackle District:

This is where you live. There's a rather healthy community of people helping people, and even if it's old and dirty, you love it. You live here with your cat, Grim, who you found digging in your dumpster. You work a simple job, running different errands, that often have you visiting multiple different districts, yet never once have you run into the Mafia. Simply cause you follow one rule, "Do stay out beyond midnight."

Now, you love your home within the Ramshackle, your lil hovel, and your small garden with your cat. You love it, truly you do. You love your neighbors, and you love the festivals that the Ramshackle holds. You love it all.

Your leather satchel hangs off your hip, filled to the brim with different letters and papers from your most recent trip. You just returned from Scarabia, having a good easy delivery for the old man that lives up the street, and after a long day, you're finally home. You push past the old rickety iron gate, and up the stone pathway, eyes searching along for your familiar feline friend. He usually waits for you.

Hopping the old creaky steps, until you stop right in front of a card. Perfectly placed with gold decor. 'For Ramschackle's Perfect. You're invited to Crowley Hall' written directly on the front. Ramshackle's Perfect was only a joke type name among the people that lived in, said Ramshackle. Who else would call you that?

You pick up the letter, glancing around the porch, before slipping inside your home, and closing the door behind you. Crowley Hall, also known as the Grand Dinner Hall, a place where all important events took place, especially the meeting of all seven mafia leaders. Why would someone invite you with no other information? You flip the card, there's nothing else. Your shoulders slump, you shouldn't go. Yet, you stare at the words once again. It could be important or lead to trouble for the other people of Ramshackle. Your eyes drift over to your clock. It was only 7 pm.

You had five hours.

You glance back at the thick fancy card. Five hours before 12. You feel a familiar purr, and glance down at your cat, Grim rubbing against your legs. Five hours, and well, as long as you're back before midnight. You'll be fine.

Right?

ⓒ 2023 cvlutos — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

ngl ever since i learned that rook might intern as an archeologist to explore ruins (which is crazier when you realize the world of twisted wonderland is very mysterious and fantastical; i'm sure those ruins are genuinely dangerous) i totally see him as someone who'll just get shadier and more strange over time. i wouldn't be surprised if he ends up with an energy similar to Undertaker from Black Butler or one of those shady magical pawn shop owners that knows way too much and has a million secrets. like, he's ALREADY like that and he's just a 18 year old boy, just imagine the menace he'll be someday--i can't even imagine where Jade will end up as well.

Eh, I'm sure he'll fiiiine in whatever ruins and archeological sites he ends up at it's Rook, I'm pretty sure the dangers out there are afraid of him instead of the other way around/j 🙃 I definitely feel like Rook won't be growing out of his eccentricness anytime soon. He's going around collecting more and more secrets every day at NRC already; the difference now is that he has just changed locations and is now being paid to do it. When he comes back for graduation day, he'll be Too Powerful...

As for Jade, maybe he can use his internship to learn more about the mountains and/or the land flora and fauna?? He could also look into magic pharmaceuticals, since he excels in that subject. They seem to be special interests of his--though he does hate to be bored, so I see him maybe doing something different each semester of internship (there's three max, I believe; you can take on a different one each semester or decide to stay at the same one). I think he'd learn a lot of valuable information that could help with expanding the "Leech family business" and connections to the land, as well as supplementing the business with knowledge of untraceable poisons :)) I could also see Jade taking up much less conspicuous internships where he's in more of a supportive role so as to not draw attention to himself, or just in a powerful enough position where he can collect useful information while maintaining his facade. Some kind of business-oriented or information collecting role where he's handling sensitive information (like client files?), maybe.

I'm not sure if TWST plans on progressing time to this extent in-game (maybe the next main story arc will be the following school year?), but I would love to see the third years as fourth years and the second and first years moving up a grade! (Plus incoming first years!) Then we can get new students, dorm leaders and vice dorm leaders being succeeded, and see old favorites going on their own internships and graduating 😭 I'm super interested in seeing the life and career directions each student takes, especially since we've gotten bits and pieces hinted to us in voice lines and vignettes. (For example, Riddle's mom wants him to pursue medicine, but Riddle has also expressed interest in law due to his time at school; Azul seems to have an interest in law and/or business but also hospitality, as he runs the Mostro Lounge.) Where each person decides to go and what they want to do can tell us a lot about their character and their ambitions, and it can also open up avenues for exploration and growth. (Kalim is going to inherit the Asim family business, but has also expressed before that he feels he isn't mature enough as he is now; Cater isn't quite sure what he wants to get into yet, since he's so used to putting on a cheery "mask" around other people, etc.) There's tons of interesting possibilities! (Imagine NRC's class reunions 10 years down the line though??? Their roster would be so stacked with important and influential people in a variety of fields and specialties.)

[fiveredlights]

📝Snippet for VCARB BURN IN HELL BITCH YOU TOO RED BULL hahahah

(the vibes are good rn imo but i do love maxiel being in kahoots together and saying f you to everyone!)

the vibes are excellent in real life but in this alternate universe i only know chaos! bring the drama!

The Perez Problem has just triggered a landslide—How Red Bull’s mismanagement led to the retirement of two drivers.

In a shocking twist to the Red Bull second seat tale, Red Bull prodigy Max Verstappen and his former teammate Daniel Ricciardo (who now drives for sister team RB) have just announced their retirement from Formula 1.

Announced only on the third day of summer break, right after Red Bull confirmed there would be no changes to their driver line up post summer break, they shocked the racing world by announcing their retirement from Formula 1 at the end of the 2024 season.

Some may have predicted this to be the case for Ricciardo, but almost certainly no one would’ve expected this from Verstappen.

…

Even more problems now arise from Verstappen’s departure, which is who to replace the three time World Champion. Does the team pull Tsunoda up to partner with Perez? Does Perez even stay?

Difficult for Red Bull to convince themselves that Perez will be one to lead the team when they were actively looking at a mid season replacement for him. Only time will tell whether or not Verstappen and Ricciardo made the right decision in ending their careers. Ironically, Red Bull’s only salvation seems to come in the form of a time machine.

One thing is for certain though.

When treating drivers like pawns in your game, it’s only a matter of time until they take out the king.

Checkmate, say Verstappen and Ricciardo.

Checkmate.

[barracuda-shark-games]

Hello, and welcome to Barracuda Shark Games!

My name is J.V. Cruz and I am an aspiring writer, currently focused on the Interactive Fiction genre. Links: F.A.Q. | Ko-fi | Linktree

I have two major projects planned: Binary Stars and Bloody Prophecies. Stay tuned for more information on those!

I am currently working on my first title, Bethroned, which just published its alpha version on September 12, 2024!

Alpha version available to play here!

You are a royal heir, third born to the King of Arevikland, yet tenth in line for the throne. While your older siblings were being groomed for politics, you were being wielded into a weapon of war. Your coming of age ceremony was followed by a declaration of war on a neighboring empire; your gift: you were placed in command of your father's troops.

It's been 12 long years of a bloody war with no end in sight, and everyone knows that this war would have ended poorly years ago if it weren't for your leadership. Yet suddenly your father is pulling you from the frontlines... a betrothal to the enemy is on your horizon.

In Bethroned, you will play as a customizable (male or female; gay, bi, straight, asexual and/or aromantic) spare heir in a fictional world, living amongst the people with whom your homeland had until recently been warring for over a decade.

Play the cards you've been dealt as you try to shape your destiny. Will you befriend those who were once your sworn rivals? Or will you pull strings in hopes of granting advantages to the homeland that used you as its pawn?

Uncover a plot that could destabilize the peace between your homeland and the empire you married into. Will your royal spouse become your greatest ally, against all odds? Or will they rue the day they agreed to your father's terms?

You might even find love in the unlikeliest places, with six unique romanceable characters: - a loyal bodyguard who is as sensitive as he is brave - an austere advisor who keeps her bleeding heart closely guarded - a noble knight whose trust is hard-won - a cunning spymaster whose only blindside might be her own feelings - a kind priest whose dedication to his faith mirrors his dedication to his loved ones - a charming noblewoman who offers more than meets the eye...

What kind of consort will you be?

[that-ari-blogger]

Go Now, Be At Peace (Hero)

One of my favourite things to see filmmakers play around with is time. As in, the information isn’t given to the audience linearly, and instead it is at the author’s beck and call.

This would seem easy, but the trick is making it work. Naturally, if you write a story and turn around in the final instalment and say “wait, I actually had a sister and a secret best friend this entire time”, it will feel like you have cheated. But if you can stick the landing, messing around with time is the juiciest writing technique out there. At least to me.

Case and point, the gimmicky emotional rollercoaster that is Hero.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)

First up, yes, this episode is gimmicky as all heck, and that is exactly what I love about it.

I think we see a lot of criticism about how certain tropes are bad, but that really isn’t the case at all. If a story gets you invested enough, you can see it coming a mile off and it will still hit you like a truck.

There are even tropes that rely on you knowing what they are, with doomed heroes coming to mind most readily, but we’ll get there in a moment.

If we define a trope simply as a repeated literary element external to a story, then if that is by definition bad, symbolism doesn’t work in the same way.

Half of symbolism is external. This is Tumblr, that’s what colour theory is, you all know this. The red carpet represents happy thoughts and warmth and healing.

In this episode, for example, there is a ton of discussion about the Heart Of Etheria project, which is described thusly:

“It was supposed to be an energy source, capable of so much good. But that's not what they made.”

“How will destroying worlds bring peace?”

The Heart of Etheria project is a nuclear weapon. That’s what the symbolism is communicating here. The First Ones may not have been the antagonists in their war, but their ends did not justify the means, at least not in… hold on a sec. We’re getting ahead of ourselves here.

The symbolism here draws on the same ideas as Star Wars to create a feeling of unknowable terror. The first ones didn’t care about Etheria, they wanted to use it as a pawn in their own war.

The series dwells pretty heavily on the thematic idea of abuse being a cycle, and the Heart Of Etheria is a pretty potent symbol for that. In order to escape their own abuse, the first ones created something that would hurt others. In order to regain personhood, they took power from a planet.

They claimed the agency of someone else, leaving a vacuum in its place.

On the other hand, the series does have some heavy internal symbolism, that being through the dichotomy of magic and technology.

“I need the sword to control She-Ra's magic.”

“Ha! She-Ra was here long before your people arrived. You cannot control magic! Magic simply is.”

Technology, specifically that of the First Ones, but also from the Horde, is synonymous with control. Which puts magic in the role of freedom, specifically that of agency. Magic just is.

“Is”. The third-person singular present tense of “to be”.

Magic is the very concept of being. It is the freedom to do stuff. What stuff? Any stuff you want. Free from restraints and shackles, free from the will of others.

There are exceptions to this rule, and they are characters. Shadow Weaver, who uses magic to control, and Entrapta, the master technician who is unrestrainable. This gets watered down to their apprentices, with Glimmer and Bow respectively, and in the middle of this is Adora.

But the fact that these are exceptions to the rule kinda proves that there is a rule here.

And those exceptions are explained pretty handily, at least with Shadow Weaver and Glimmer. They are using dark magic, not in the way it wants to be used. They are forcing the magic to do what they want, and taking its agency from it, as well as using it to murk characters onscreen.

Bow, meanwhile, uses tech to coordinate, specifically in the sense of battlefield control. And Entrapta seeks only to understand, and knowledge is power. But she never tries to control anyone. Freedom is a big thing for Entrapta, and I honestly don’t have a reading of how she plays into this. I’ll let you know if this changes.

This is an in-text symbol that has meaning. Like an external one, it can be done well or poorly depending on the story, much like time nonlinearity.

Which brings me to my issue with writing this analysis:

For my coverage of the fourth season of She-Ra, I have been avoiding talking about Adora and Catra, because I will devote most of the final season to them. The problem here, is that Hero is set up around the parallels between Adora and her predecessor. The time nonlinearity serves to exacerbate those similarities, to the point where avoiding mentioning Adora even slightly is a detriment to the episode.

So, be aware that she is there, as I try to ignore her for the purposes of this post.

Anyway, the main character of this episode is Razz, and my question from about a season ago still stands here. Why is Razz in this story? How do I read the theming of an old lady who has lived thousands of years, and has met everyone under the sun? How do I read a character who is displaced in time? Why is that significant?

I have a thesis, and you’ll have to bear with me on this.

In my reading, Razz is Etheria. Maybe not literally, but on a story level, I think Razz and Etheria are one and the same. Razz saves and is saved by the previous She-Ra in a similar fashion to how Etheria teaches and is protected by her, and she befriends Adora in the same way. She gets temporally shunted because she sees the She-Ras as the same. To her, they are different and the same, and the order of events isn’t important.

Part of why I love this episode and its time travel shenaniganry is that it leverages that for emotion. There is a building dread in this episode, specifically through that pie.

Razz will never get to enjoy that pie with her friend, you know this from the start. So, when Mara walks through the door the first time, your heart sinks.

This episode is also about Mara, and I will get to the final scene in a minute, but first, introductions.

Mara starts the episode laughing. She closes it crying. This episode shows the breaking down of this character, and I cannot think of a better example.

This episode sets up Mara as incredibly intelligent. She pieces together the Heart of Etheria plan, but she also works out that Adora will need guidance, and that she can offer that via someone who would know. She knows that Razz will guide Adora to where she needs to be, and leaves messages.

She also acts as an audience surrogate for Razz to exposit themes to.

“It’s all right. No one here will hurt you.”

The theme here is pretty obvious. Things lash out when they are scared, and all you need to do to achieve peace is to be gentle. Mara, a person who is here to end a war, is trying to achieve that peace. But we have seen the cost of that.

I'm running out of space, so if you've seen How To Train Your Dragon, you know what this is. This is about trust with the other and coming together despite differences. This is about comradery with the planet itself. Mara needs to not rush at things, and instead wait, and be gentle. They will come to her.

I did a word search on the transcript of this episode for the word “peace”, and I found that it comes up thrice. When Mara and Light Hope argue, and here, when Mara calms down the animal.

“Go, be at peace.”

As a side note, the fighting styles of Mara and Adora are very different. Adora relies on strength and athleticism to win her battles. She can go toe to toe with Huntara and is the slower combatant when she fights Catra. But Mara flips around the battlefield like a gymnast or a dancer. The two come from different places, trained by opposite sides, it’s no wonder they fight differently.

When Light Hope presents her own worldview, or rather, that of her superiors, her wording is important.

“The Heart of Etheria has been activated. Your mission will be fulfilled. There will be peace throughout the galaxy. You will be a hero.”

Hero’s a funny word, ain’t it? It means someone you can look up to, and in war times, it is presented as loyalty and dedication to the cause. The ANZACs were heroes, for example.

Here, it is used as a trophy for Mara. She will be declared a hero, an empty title, just for doing what she is told.

But She-Ra doesn’t agree with this definition. In She-Ra, a hero saves people. In She-Ra, Mara is a hero because she disobeyed her orders to follow her better judgement and notably, she never gets called that in this episode.

Instead, she gets a monologue. She uses her last moments to give the next generation hope for the future and try to let them know of her mistakes. She sees the cycle of abuse, and she couldn’t break it, but she could leave tools for the next rotation to try and use.

Then Razz, the embodiment of the planet she saved, calls her brave, and leaves her a pie.

Mara is gone, Adora isn't looking at her predecessor, she's looking at an empty chair. She's looking at the absence of a person, the loss of a friend. She is looking at the legacy of someone she looks up to.

This episode doesn’t give you closure, because it’s not trying to. It is trying to make you feel empty. We meet Mara for just a moment, and then she is gone, and we know that, and yet we still get attached.

If that hologram hadn’t cut off exactly when it did, we would have seen Mara die. A millisecond later, and we would have watched it happen.

We watch an entire journey in this episode, everything we needed to know, and then it ends, with silence, as the credits role. The embodiment of the planet itself offers Mara a pie as a grave gift. She’s returning the favour. Go now be at peace.

"She said she would come back. She promised. We were going to make a pie. I've been waiting for so long."

I need to talk about the thing with promises, and specifically breaking them. In previous episodes, Adora promised Catra she would look out for her, and failed, and Mara made Razz a promise she knew she would never keep. Why?

The obvious reason is that unkept promises are a key source of dramatic irony, especially when you know the end point before it is said. In comedy, this is someone asking if a dress makes them look fat, and everyone in the room saying no. In a tragedy, it’s this.

The ticking in this shot of the countdown timer is such an incredible use of sound design. First up, time symbolism, of course. But it's also stressful You hear a timer getting quicker and you panic. When it is released, there is no explosion, just a dying friend.

Because, yes, this is a tragedy, remember? That’s why its cyclical, that’s why this episode exists.

"I try to remember but it gets all muddled up. Adora, Mara, it always ends the same. The present, the future..."

"Razz?"

"The past."

Everything in this series has happened before within its own continuity. The weapon, the loss of friends, the transformations, everything. This is a series about the cycle of abuse that always, always, leads to tragedy. It sets its current events up like one, and then shows you in vivid detail, just how that will end.

I said she ends the episode crying. But she does it with a smile. She looks her death in the eye and offers up hope and trust. Mara, the girl who laughed, the girl who cried, the girl who smiled.

The final scene looks like the two are talking in real time. The series cuts between Mara and Adora as they speak, taking care to be inconsistent with who is holographic. The parallels are baked into the setting, and they are being fought against.

I feel like whenever I talk about the story being cyclical, that I under stress how everything in it is about breaking those cycles. Magic and tech, agency and control. The cycle boxes you in, preventing your actions, controlling you. Breaking free is taking back that agency for yourself. The first ones tried to do this by trying to get someone to take their place, we will see if and how Adora and company will attempt the same or try something new.

Final Thoughts.

Genuinely, this post was the hardest to write of anything I have done. Not because I didn’t know what to say, but because rewatching this episode left me in an emotional wreck. I genuinely felt like the scene from Interstellar when the main character laughs and cries all at the same time.

For the record, I haven’t seen Interstellar, I just know the meme.

This post was emotionally exhausting, so I'm going to lie down now. Next week is Fractures, stick around if that interests you.

Previous - Next

[lemonhemlock]

strange that people had the thought that sansa was gonna stay in the vale and not go back to winterfell for so long when geographically other than bran(beyond the wall having trippy visions)/jon("dead")/rickon (cannibal island skagos) sansa is way closer to winterfell than a lot of characters and the knights of the vale is pretty much a chekhov's gun especially since like you said they havent joined the war yet and somehow sansa marching to winter fell with them was unbelievable since like 2009-2018 (her story might not follow the show especially because of the diverged storylines and she has the alternative to escape the vale but who knows)

It's no secret that Sansa was a very hated character throughout GoT's run. People ~manifesting she would stay in the Vale was a way of wishful-thinking her out of the narrative. Their dislike made them ignore reason and come up with many silly theories.

Much has been said about Sansa's pawn-to-queen narrative, but the main argument for her surviving the series is that, if GRRM wanted to kill her, he had many, many opportunities to do so in five books and didn't. Sansa is physically and socially vulnerable & her POV focuses on her rich internal world, strength and endurance, yet she remains unscathed and is instead learning court politics. Why is that? It's basic bildungsroman storytelling. Denying that is just being petty at this point.

Sansa also cannot remain in the Vale as Alayne, since that is Littlefinger's plot. Only the most delulu stans will not accept that a shady person such as Littlefinger will face authorial punishment for his sins. And, when he does die, what's stopping Sansa from claiming her identity? Especially as she finds out the feared and detested Ramsay Bolton has married "Arya Stark". She will naturally want to help her sister.

Now, I need to re-read for this, but I believe it is hinted in AFFC that Myranda Royce slyly figured out who Sansa is. If you remember the prologue of AGOT, the fancy, pretentious Night's Watch ranger from the group of three that first encounter the white walkers, is Waymar Royce. He is the third son of Bronze Yohn, head of House Royce. I did a quick search to refresh my memory:

"Bronze Yohn knows me," she reminded him. "He was a guest at Winterfell when his son rode north to take the black." She had fallen wildly in love with Ser Waymar, she remembered dimly, but that was a lifetime ago, when she was a stupid little girl. "And that was not the only time. Lord Royce saw . . . he saw Sansa Stark again at King's Landing, during the Hand's tourney." Petyr put a finger under her chin. "That Royce glimpsed this pretty face I do not doubt, but it was one face in a thousand. A man fighting in a tourney has more to concern him than some child in the crowd. And at Winterfell, Sansa was a little girl with auburn hair. My daughter is a maiden tall and fair, and her hair is chestnut. Men see what they expect to see, Alayne." He kissed her nose. "Have Maddy lay a fire in the solar. I shall receive our Lords Declarant there."

(AFFC, Alayne I)

I mean... you can't be more explicit than that. The Royces know who Sansa is, but they'll just keep quiet and play out this charade?

[sitp-recs]

BL Reclist - Part 3

Thanks to @pullatta’s encouragement I come bearing more BL gifts! This is the third part of my manga/manhwa recs. This list compiles some of my current reads (the other 3 were mentioned in previous lists: Shutline, Steel Like Silk and Semantic Error). Curiously, some of these have an art style that isn’t what I usually go for, but the plot is so good and characters so compelling I couldn’t resist. There’s a bit of everything here: pls mind the heavy themes for #8; go with #3, #6 or #7 for feel-good slice-of-slice, with #10 for a fun rivals to fuck buddies to lovers. #9 has the prettiest art and top notch angsty historical romance. #2 brings sexy & tender vampire love, #4 and #5 are the way to go if you you’re looking for adult, nuanced and introspective stories. If you wanna choose only one go with Momentum, a masterclass in intimacy. I’d love to hear your thoughts! I think this will be my last manga list for a while, wondering if I should go for anime recs next? Hmmm 🤔

1. Codename Anastasia by Boy season & eunbi (E)

Agent Kwon Taekjoo is dispatched to Russia with two tasks. First, he must find “Anastasia,” a new weapon that could change the world forever. Second, he is to avoid Russia’s psychotic killer, Psikh Bognadov, at all costs. To assist him on his undercover mission, Taekjoo is sent a partner who only reveals himself to be a man named Zhenya. But Zhenya quickly proves himself to be just as dangerous and unhinged as the infamous Psikh himself.

2. FANGS by Billybalibally (E)

As the sole survivor of a vampire attack, En wakes up to find that his hair has gone white as snow... and, worse, that he's developed a craving of his own for blood. Fortunately, the vampire health and welfare organization FANGS is there to help with the transition, and the handsome Ichii steps up as his guardian and mentor. Swept up into a confusing and lonely new world where everyone seems to be hankering for a taste of his "virgin" blood, En must navigate the FANGS pairing system, an arrangement that sets up compatible vampires as mutual feeding partners... and partners in all other ways as well.

3. Fools Remastered by Yeongha / Parkdam (T)

Eungi has been in college without being engaged with others. One day by encounter, he finds the secret of underclassman Jeongwoo. Why are you so nervous to forget? A love story that’s both easy and difficult. See original story HERE.

4. Lovesick Dog by Songhyel (E)

If one word could encapsulate Noh Ye-gyum, it would be “lovesick.” Despite him loving people with all his heart, Ye-gyum finds himself trapped in an endless cycle of being used, betrayed, and ultimately abandoned. This time proves no different for him, as the family of his current ""master"" Jooyung drives him away to pave the path for Jooyung's advantageous marriage and future spouse. Suddenly, a mysterious man named Jooin appears, sweeping Ye-gyum away to his home. There, he is fed, clothed, and showered with an overwhelming amount of affection. As Ye-gyum senses the telltale signs of his lovesickness resurfacing, an uncertainty lingers: will this man also leave him, or could he finally hold the cure to this lifelong affliction?

5. Momentum by Park ji-yeon (E)

“Momentum” is a series of beautifully drawn vignettes that glimpse into the life-altering moments of several couples as they fall in and out of love. This BL features a series of characters learning how to love, understand, and forgive one another – and in some cases, the world – at different moments in their lives.

6. Our Sunny Days by Jeong seokchan (M)

Sung Ho’s not the kind you’d typically expect to settle down in the countryside. He’s in his late 20s, ex-military, and…a single father with a year-old baby his ex-girlfriend pawned off on him. Jobless and without any prospects but a house, Sung Ho hopes the peaceful Nuldongmae village will make a good new home for him and his daughter. Rumor has it that the head of the village, despite his young age, is a real jerk… But he won’t have to deal with that, will he?

7. Run Wild by Wuzhe / Zuoercongdong (M)

As soon as Jiang Cheng finds out he’s adopted, he’s abandoned by his adoptive family and sent to live with his deadbeat father, who has a gambling addiction. Everything about his new life, from his pathetic father to the unfamiliar environment, makes Jiang Cheng depressed. But then he meets Gu Fei, who’s like a shining bright light in this run-down city, and the two become each other’s salvation and hope.

8. Stigma by Marloong (E)

In the dark alleys of this city, there's no hope for trash like Sehyun. Having sex with strangers in the cramped stall behind a bar is just a typical Thursday night. But after a chance encounter with the brash and violent Boris, Sehyun begins to dream of living a normal life and an end to his restless nights. Boris is unlike any other man he's encountered. After a life spent bound by thorns, can time truly heal all scars?

9. Under the Plum Blossom Tree by Bori/Baekha (M)

As the son of a prestigious political figure in Joseon, Hajin has only ever been interested in studying to become like his father. That is, until he meets Namwoo, a young man who takes on various odd jobs as he struggles to pass his school exams. As they overcome hardships together and learn more about each other's history, they soon realize that their lives are intertwined in more ways than they thought.

10. You Get Me Going by Moscareto (E)

Despite being thirty-three, Young-won sure is gullible. He falls in love way too easily, comes on way too hard, and still believes that he’ll meet “Mr. Right” sooner or later. Not that he knows who “Mr. Right” is, but he sure does know about “Mr. Wrong,” a.k.a. Kang Hyun-woo. Young-won swears that he’ll never, ever get together with this polar opposite of his, but the universe sure seems to think different. One drunken night, they end up in the same bed and Hyun-woo proposes an intriguing deal…