#or if you wish to rp something else

[sobblesources]

STEPPING INSIDE OF THE VOID .

a collection of sentence starters from the warning's album keep me fed . edited to fit rp needs , adjust pronouns as necessary , note that there are some spanish sentences ! warnings for darker tones , swears ,

❛ so what if i'm selfish , everyone else is . ❜

❛ you're not a product of god , quit telling yourself this , ❜

❛ you always come back over & over , ❜

❛ put your ego where your mouth is , ❜

❛ it's way too late , ❜

❛ pray to your god 'til you're chewed up & spit out , ❜

❛ i'll be seeing you underground , ❜

❛ i'm bleeding just to feel alive , ❜

❛ life is nothing more than passing the time , ❜

❛ give me violence , ❜

❛ i want to make mistakes & live in regret , ❜

❛ if there's a price to pay , i'll deal with it when i'm dead , ❜

❛ show me that i'm human , ❜

❛ i have lost the pleasure , ❜

❛ skin on skin means nothing if there's no blood to bleed , ❜

❛ simply quenching hunger doesn't kill the need , ❜

❛ i don't mean to make you nervous , ❜

❛ just check if my heart's still beating , ❜

❛ it's not your fault , ❜

❛ dime, ¿qué más quieres ? ❜

❛ la sed que te da solo me hace recordar con qué poco yo te puedo ahogar , ❜

❛ sin fallar lo que tú puedas necesitar , aquí va a estar , ❜

❛ ya no te lo niegues , ❜

❛ aunque a veces quieras escapar , yo sé que aquí te vas a quedar , ❜

❛ won't you tell me what to say ? ❜

❛ pull me in & keep me nice & quiet , ❜

❛ won't you fill my void ? ❜

❛ you know you love it when i need you , ❜

❛ i find desire leaves me frozen , ❜

❛ go in for the kill , ❜

❛ you leave me begging for more , ❜

❛ i want it & you know it , ❜

❛ you like it when i'm broken , ❜

❛ it's the hope that kills you , ❜

❛ i'm still aching & breaking , ❜

❛ i wish i could enjoy worthless means of communicating , ❜

❛ i close my eyes till it all fades , ❜

❛ you can take all that you want , but it will never be enough , ❜

❛ cut me open , pay attention , ❜

❛ i will obey , ❜

❛ ' i don't care ' is such an easy lie , ❜

❛ tell me , are you satisfied ? ❜

❛ you think you're good enough , ❜

❛ you're so blissfully unaware , ❜

❛ you've got it so bad , ❜

❛ you're just a burnout , ❜

❛ the world moves on without you , ❜

❛ if you're going to rot , then add to the plot , ❜

❛ shut your mouth , ❜

❛ they're always watching you , ❜

❛ isn't it normal to love what we hate ? ❜

❛ give me something to believe , ❜

❛ the chaos drives me wild , ❜

❛ if this can't bring me to life , what will ? ❜

❛ i can't take anymore , ❜

❛ you greedy little fucker , ❜

❛ you're dressed for the slaughter , ❜

❛ love me , hate me , am i worth it to you ? ❜

❛ make me be perfect for you , ❜

❛ i couldn't die as the martyr , ❜

❛ shovel it down my throat , wash it down with remorse , ❜

❛ the silence at midnight feels like your nails down my back , ❜

❛ try not to think about it too much , ❜

❛ you've got me begging , ❜

❛ give me your psychosomatic love , ❜

❛ if you crawl to me , will you reflect what i need ? ❜

❛ the way you hurt me is never enough , ❜

❛ if you want it all , just take it , ❜

[new-phone-who-dis0]

Final Open RP (Read under the cut)

It was nearly midnight, and the hustle and bustle of the city was loud as ever, no one would have ever suspected that something was wrong. No one would ever look on that building, where a teenage girl was sitting, propped up against the wall, her breathing laboured.

Inaya-or as most people knew her-Isla Ali was dying

One hand was wrapped around her midsection, as she was trying to control the blood loss, every breath felt like a stab to her chest. She could feel the thick, sticky blood coating her hand and clothes. And everything hurt, so so much.

She'd accepted it of course, she knew that there was no way she was going to make it out of here alive, her dulled senses could tell her that much.

She closed her eyes and rested her head against the wall, she was dying, alone, and afraid.

Suddenly the sound of footsteps cut through the haze as she painstakingly opened her eyes and turned to face the newcomer. She didn't want anyone to see her like this, so vulnerable and in pain, but it was too late for that now.

"H-hey.."

@sleep-deprivation-is-fun @fox-barnes @your-fav-russian-assassin @thescarleteevee @oh-to-be-a-murderer @clintbarton-thearrowguy @official-buckybarnes + anyone and everyone else.

(It’s no pressure tags of course, but since this is my last rp, I would appreciate it if you guys could participate)

//Okay hi, so there is a very high chance that you’re wondering ‘What the hell mod? Why are you killing Isla off? ALSO I THOUGHT HER NAME WAS ISLA NOT INAYA WHAT THE HELL MOD!??!?!’ I’m going to ask you to breathe first of all, let me explain. First of all I was planning on doing the whole name reveal thing earlier but my mental health is a loser and can jump off a microwave. Also the thing is, I’m not going to have tumblr for much longer. The account I used for this is getting deleted against my will and I don’t know how long it will be before I can safely make another tumblr account. I’m really really going to miss y’all, and that’s why I’m doing this open rp, just for closure. Because no matter what happens, Isla is going to die at the end. I’m sorry about this and I had the time of my life knowing you people, I wish you the best of luck, and hope you don’t forget about me when you’re famous! This is mod, probably signing off.

[roleplay-world-memes]

✨ FANTASY & SUPERNATURAL RP MEME ✨

Send a number (or multiple) + a character for a themed interaction in a fantasy/supernatural setting!

🩸 ANGST & DARK PROPHECIES

"The prophecy says one of us must die… but I refuse to accept that."

A forbidden magic surges out of control—what price must be paid?

One character is cursed—slowly losing themselves to corruption.

"You should have killed me when you had the chance."

A betrayal revealed under a blood moon.

One character sacrifices themselves to save the other—but at what cost?

A forgotten past comes back to haunt them—literally.

"I am not afraid of monsters. I am afraid of becoming one."

A prophecy foretells disaster—can it be stopped?

One character walks away from everything, leaving the other behind.

💜 ROMANCE & STAR-CROSSED LOVERS

A love that defies fate—do they fight destiny or embrace it?

A stolen moment in a world falling apart.

"No matter how many lifetimes pass, I will always find you."

One character is immortal, the other is not.

A first kiss under the glow of magical lanterns.

One character carries a token from the other, never knowing its true meaning until now.

"I would defy the gods for you."

A dance at a fae court where every step could be a promise or a curse.

A love potion goes horribly wrong.

One character must kill the other—but they can’t bring themselves to do it.

⚔️ ACTION & ADVENTURE

A battle against a monstrous foe—will they survive?

A stolen relic must be retrieved before it's too late.

"Run. I’ll hold them off."

Hunted by bounty hunters for a crime they didn’t commit.

A swordfight on a crumbling bridge—who wins?

Breaking into a high-security vault filled with enchanted traps.

One character saves the other from drowning in a cursed lake.

"We have one chance to make it out alive."

A dragon wakes from its slumber, and they are standing in its lair.

A shipwreck leaves them stranded on an island filled with ancient magic.

🎭 MYSTERY & THE UNKNOWN

A town where no one remembers arriving… and no one can leave.

A message from a long-dead sorcerer warns of an impending disaster.

An enchanted mirror shows glimpses of a possible future.

A stranger claims to know them, but they have no memory of meeting.

A lost ruin holds secrets that should have remained buried.

One character wakes up in someone else’s body.

"There’s something in the shadows, watching us."

A book that writes its own story… and it’s about them.

A masquerade ball where none of the guests are human.

They find an ancient key—but where is the door?

🕯️ MAGIC & THE SUPERNATURAL

One character loses control of their powers with catastrophic results.

A spell gone wrong traps them in a time loop.

"Don’t eat anything from the fae’s table."

A demon offers them a wish—but at what price?

A magical storm tears open a rift between realms.

One character is revealed to be something more (or less) than human.

A sacred artifact chooses its wielder.

A vampire offers to turn the other—do they accept?

A deal with a forgotten god must be fulfilled.

"Magic always demands a price."

[sometimes-prompts]

105 RP Starter quotes from The Locked Tomb!

"Life is too short and love is too long."

"Go loud."

"What an entirely haunted time to be alive."

"Love and freedom don’t coexist."

"Well, I tried, and therefore no one should criticize me."

"The truth is, we're all just a bunch of weirdos trying to figure out how to exist in this bizarre universe."

"Strike me down. You’ve won."

 "I’ve lived my whole wretched life at your mercy, yours alone, and God knows I deserve to die at your hand."

"You are my only friend. I am undone without you."

“Death first to vultures and scavengers.”

"It’s finished, it’s done. You can’t take loved away."

"What can I say? I love a little gall on gall."

"Things are, frankly, going to be antonyms of fine."

"If you do not find yourself a galaxy, it is not so bad to find yourself a star."

 “You got the face of a rat and the body of a dead person.”

"Ghosts and You Die is my middle name!”

“Anyone can learn to fight. Hardly anyone learns to think.”

“You skull faced fruitcake.”

“I might lie down and see if this fixes itself.”

“Once you’ve stepped in, you’re in. This isn’t Hokey Pokey.”

“There’s no skeleton like the home skeleton, you know? I have so many happy memories there.”

“We do bones motherfucker!”

“Genuinely sad, bordering on very funny.”

“Life’s a bitch.”

“Cows watch sunsets.”

“Cows exhibit mourning behaviors for other cows.”

“Cows have best friends and complex social relationships.”

“This is a cult.”

“Chickenshits don’t get beer.”

"NOW isn't the TIME! You DUMB, HILARIOUS BITCH!"

"When I am in heaven I will remember your mouth, and when you roast down in hell I think you will remember mine."

"Stop wearing that pillowcase any time you like.."

"Why, your fist is so big and my asshole is so tiny."

"All I ever wanted you to do was eat me!"

"I can’t keep my promise, because the entire point of me is you."

“I cannot conceive of a universe without you in it.”

“We were children – playing in the reflections of stars in a pool of water... Thinking it was space.”

“I am sick of roses, and I am horny for revenge.”

“I’m boobs and hair and talk and a hell of a sword hand.”

“I ate peanuts, discreetly, the once.”

"The cold death to anyone who looks at me in pity; the heat death to anyone who looks to me in amusement; the quick death to anyone who looks at me in fear."

“Your heart is a party for five thousand nails."

“Someday I’ll die and get buried in the ground and you can take it up with me then."

"Bury me next to you in that unmarked grave."

"We knew that was the only hope we ever had–that we would live to see it through."

"Oh, we’ll still hate each other, my dear, we have hated each other too long and too passionately to stop."

"My bones will rest easy next to your bones."

“Why was I born so attractive?”

“Then we’re all dead, [name], but let’s bring hell first!"

“You were so afraid anyone might touch you. You had always been afraid of anyone touching you, and had not known your longing flinch was so obvious to those who tried it.”

"You hating me always meant more than anyone else in this hot and stupid universe loving me. At least I’d had your full attention."

“I didn’t think this was the time for dirty talk, but I can roll with it-”

“We had something very nearly perfect... the perfect friendship, the perfect love. I cannot imagine reaching the end of this life and having any regrets, so long as I had been allowed to experience being your[s].”

"That’s not a defence force, that’s a cop and six different kinds of nerd."

“Please elaborate opened up, because my imagination is better than your description and I am not having a lot of fun here.”

“I understand you didn’t ask on purpose, but I like to think that there was a grain in your soul that saw yourself in need, and perhaps thought to itself, I wish I had Abigail Pent.”

“I came prepared, my sweet.”

“What are you even saying half the time –.”

“Alas. I have a bad personality and a stupefying deficit of attention.”

“See, I did make a utopia.”

"Then perish."

“Oh, this is boring, I wanted one with a skull puking another, smaller skull, and other skulls flying all around. But tasteful, you know?”

“Why are you not appeased? That is how meat loves meat.”

“Yes, well, jail for Mother.”

“I’d aim to get out of here alive, but our odds don’t look wonderful. If we stay put, we get squashed, or eaten. If we swim, we probably still get squashed or eaten.”

“I need you to hide my infirmity. You see, I am insane.”

“I have lots of fealty in me. I fealt the Emperor with every bone in my body. I fealt hard.”

“Ask me how I am and I’ll scream.”

“I see you calling my bluff and I resent it,”

"Don’t give yourself away. Do you know, it’s not worth it... none of this is worth it, at all."

"Remember this, and don’t let anyone do it to you ever again."

"I’m sorry. We take so much. I’m so sorry."

“If you want to wallow in your shockingly vast reserves of self-pity, cut your throat and save me the food bill.”

“As I’ve been told tiresomely often, a half-cocked version of something is significantly worse than not being cocked at all.”

"Your tolerance for man-eating magma fish would have been tested sorely by anyone who was not God."

"But nobody listened to us. Nobody investigated the things we told them to investigate."

"I gave you my whole life and you didn't even want it!"

"Suffer and learn."

"It was good. We were happy."

“If I forget you, let my right hand be forgotten.”

“Don’t worry, honey. I’ll keep the home fires burning.”

"I know you're there" he rasped. "Kill me all you like. I would know you in the blindness of my eyes... in the deafness of my ears..."

"I just want to know the truth... after all this time."

“You have rendered yourself unlovable.”

"I am nothing, I am pointless, I am unmanned."

"I will accept your chidings gratefully. I will watch you slay whomsoever you feel the need to slay, and I will sponge the blood from your brow … but when I lay me down to sleep, I am a fully grown man who is allowed to feel precisely what I want, about anything I want."

"I am sorry for everything … I am sorry for what they did …"

" I was weak because weakness is easy, and because rebuff is hard."

"I should have offered help."

"I merely want to put you in a jail, and fill up the jail with acid-"

"Staaahp being so fucking dramahhhtic!"

“You’ve got two short minutes before I punch you in right in the butthole.”

"Follow me. We haven’t got much time"

“Delicious num-nums for baby.”

"I have bested my father."

"Did you see me? Did you behold me, [name]?"

"Thank God I had a pencil in my pocket; I’m in the process of crafting the sequel on a section of wallpaper."

"I’ve felt heaps better since I got here. I’ve coughed a few times, but it’s mainly for show."

"Which is, coincidentally, what your mother said to me last night."

"You know it was killing me twice that you weren’t there, right?"

“Get in line, thou big slut.”

"How are we to understand 'potato'?"

"Should we hold hands in girlish solidarity?"

"Old people should be shot."

"I completely fucking hate you, because you are a hideous witch from hell. No offence."

(Btw, read the books, you will obsess over them.)

[thatfandomslut]

Messy

Reneé Rapp x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Trigger Warnings: discussions of sex (no smut), insecurity

Request:

something inspired in Messy, like, renee being afraid of a relationship with r cause things don't end well to her and r comforts her

Reneé Rapp requests are open.

Other accounts: hoe4flo | ghostyanne

Discord Groups: Mean Girls | Mean Girls RP (in need of people)

“I want to be in a relationship with you,” Reneé’s words hung in the bedroom, breaking the silence between them. “I’m just scared of what this might mean for us. What would this mean for me?”

(Y/n) shuffled a bit, turning over to face Reneé. They were supposed to be sleeping, but it was obvious that Reneé had too much on her mind to commit to the idea of sleep. Therefore, (Y/n) was also not getting any sleep either. She didn’t mind though. Late night conversations with Reneé were her favorite. They were so deep, and they dove into topics they haven’t explored yet, like their relationship. It was a taboo topic for the two of them because Reneé has commented several times on not being ready nor is she looking for a relationship.

Although she tried to focus on Reneé’s figure, (Y/n) could barely see the vulnerable look on Reneé’s face in the darkness of her bedroom. “Well, we don’t have to jump into anything. We can take it slow and figure this out together. We can start by going on dates instead of just sex on the weekends after you’re done shooting your show.” (Y/n) teased softly, successfully lighting the mood as Reneé snorted out a soft laugh. She nudged (Y/n)’s shoulder with her hand before moving to the crook of (Y/n)’s neck. Immediately, (Y/n) allowed herself to rub Reneé’s back in a comforting manner.

“A part of me is just nervous this is going to be like my past relationships.” There was a beat of silence where neither of them spoke after that. (Y/n) knew Reneé wasn’t finished speaking, but she needed to figure out her words. She gave her all the time she needed as her thumb caressed Reneé’s back gently. “Every time you leave in the morning, I want to tell you to stay, but all of the fake scenarios in my head tell me not to. They remind me there are more possibilities than you staying with me. Instead, every situation I imagine, is you saying no. It’s you saying that you don’t like me like that, that it’s just my imagination.”

(Y/n) wasn’t expecting Reneé to feel this way. She thought that she had made it very clear that she wasn’t interested in anyone else when last week, Reneé asked if they could only sleep with each other, no one else. If she wasn’t into Reneé, she wouldn’t have agreed. Still, she understood that this was a real fear for Reneé, so she thought about her words carefully to make sure she knew her feelings on the subject were completely valid.

She cleared her throat, shifting slightly to get into a more comfortable position. “Reneé, there is no situation that I would not want to stay with you. Every time I get up to leave, I wish I could stay with you in my arms. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t want to stay. I just didn’t know you wanted me to. Now that I do know, if you want me to stay in the morning, I am more than happy to.” (Y/n) told the blonde, who laid there in her arms, tears welling in her eyes. Still, Reneé had to remind herself not to cry, she didn’t want to be overly emotional, no matter how vulnerable this conversation was.

Reneé swallowed the lump in her throat, pulling away from (Y/n)’s neck in order to press a deep kiss to her lips. She wanted to hide her feelings within this kiss. Even if it was just for a moment. (Y/n) was initially surprised by the action, but she was very quick to reciprocate as she kissed back. Reneé smiled softly into the kiss.

“What if I wanted to be your girlfriend?” Reneé questioned carefully, hoping that none of her fake scenarios in her head didn’t arise. She felt a bit anxious as she waited for a response. “I mean, it would only be if you’re okay with being girlfriends. I understand if you aren’t, of course.”

(Y/n) kissed Reneé softly to calm her down, which worked. “Reneé, I would love to be your girlfriend, if that’s what you want us to be, too. I’m already technically exclusive to you. I just wanted to be sure we were both ready before we put a label on who or what we were.” She said softly, reminding Reneé that they were technically exclusive. (Y/n) would be lying if she didn’t admit that she wasn’t excited that Reneé was ready to be more than just friends who occasionally had sex.

Reneé bit her lip to hide her smile, despite the dark effectively doing that for her. “I do want to be your girlfriend. I’ve been wanting this for a long time. I’ve just been worried about you not returning my feelings.” Reneé explained, happiness bubbling in her chest as butterflies fluttered every which way in her stomach. Normally, her relationships ended up messy because she couldn’t get over the fake scenarios in her head. However, (Y/n) never invalidated them. Instead, she let Reneé feel her feelings and comforted her fears. This was already different than any of the relationships she had in the past.

“Then, it looks like we’re girlfriends,” (Y/n) said with a soft smile, pressing kisses all over Reneé’s face. This, in return, caused Reneé to giggle at the display of affection. “And, if you ever feel like there is more than one possibility in your head about something in our relationship, just let me know. We’ll talk it out, like we did just now.”

Reneé felt validated by this as she established her spot in (Y/n)’s neck once more, smiling so hard that her cheeks began to ache. “Okay, I’ll let you know. Thank you for letting me know that my feelings are valid.” Reneé whispered, sleep finally threatening to take over her. (Y/n) mumbled a soft ‘of course,’ sleep taking over her as well. As the two girls slept, the trace of their smiles remained at the fact that they finally had this big breakthrough in their relationship.

[cypherlune]

Open RP

Evelyn hadn't been sleeping. Her mind was too awake. She couldn't think properly when she tried to rest. Her mind just wouldn't turn off. The nightmares wouldn't stop. They'd harass her in her sleep. The Nightmares were terrifying, so she didn't sleep to avoid them. So she worked. She spent most of her days in the lab of her apartment, surrounded by her three cats who would pester her relentlessly, but not ruin her work. She had built so many things that she couldn't even come up with new ideas. But eventually, she did. She spent all night up and awake, staying awake on coffee and energy drinks. People tried to get her to go to sleep when they came over to visit, but she wouldn't listen. She'd just wave off their comments about the bags under her eyes, or how tired she looked. But eventually, she stopped contacting you through text or calls, and that was abnormal. You tried spamming her phone, but to no avail. So you chose to come visit her in her apartment, and didn't even bother knocking. When you barged in she rolled her eyes from the couch, where she was watching something. She clicked it off and rose up from the couch with a stretch. "You could've at least shot me a text"

Tags: @hufflepuffavenger @narwhals-randomness (you can choose which account you wanna rp) @serenastark-official @backupwintersoldier @ghostcat58 @lunamarvels @the-best-duck-tamer @goddess-of-birds @multifandomer537 @multiverse-peterbparker @hydrabucky @stareyeofficial @crazyinlovewithmarvel @alliestatefanficworldand @thund3randrain and anyone else who wishes to rp!

[martyrette]

•˚ʚ Martyrette’s TRP3 Aesthetics Guide ɞ˚•

• Remastered •

•• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ •• INDEX •• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ ••

Preface

Symbols

Default (credit: @martyrette)

Special (credit: Wyrmguard Secret Nonnie)

Formatting

Gradient Text (credit: @ladytruebane & Wyrmguard Secret Nonnie)

Empty 'Race' Slot (credit: @martyrette)

Headers (credit: @martyrette)

Additional Information (credit: @martyrette)

Links

(Whole section credit: @martyrette)

Formatting Links

Icon Links

Borders

(Whole section credit: @martyrette)

Symbols

Images

Icons

TRP Icon Glossary

(Whole section credit: @martyrette)

Transparent Background

Red

Orange

Yellow

Green

Blue

Purple

Pink

Tips & Info

Further Resources

Closing Word

•• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ •• PREFACE •• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ ••

TRP Aesthetics & formating has always been a well-guarded secret within the World of Warcraft RP community. This guide serves to break down that gatekeeping and give everyone access to the tools to make their TRP in whatever cool way they want!

It's been a long time since I realized my first guide, so this one serves as not only an updated version for all the new tricks I learned, but also a connection to further resources which have come out since then.

This guide will also be actively updated with Further Resources when new guides and tricks come out by other creators.

As always, LET'S GET THIS SPARKLE AND CROSS-INFESTED BREAD! (っ◔◡◔)っ ❤

•• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ ••

SYMBOLS •• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ ••

Symbols! Dare I say the face of Aesthetic TRPS! There are two kinds of symbols: the symbols you can simply copy/paste easy-peasy & then the ones that require a special symbol to activate!

When using ANY, make sure to include this ㅡ symbol somewhere in the line or it will appear as a box.

Normal Symbols:

‹ « Ω ∑ ∂ ∆ ∫ ƒ × ∞ § √ π ½ ¼ † ‡ ¦ ¤ ◊ ° • ∙ -ㅡ » › ±

Special Symbols:

♡ ☆ ° ♪ ♩ ♭ ♬ ★☆ ☜ ☞ 〉 《 》 「 」 『 』 【 】 〔 〕 ↖ ↗ ↘ ↙ Δ ∮ ▒ ▣ ▤ ▥ ▦ ▧ ▨ ▩ ◊ ◈ ◇ ◆ ■ □ ◁ △ ▽ ▷ ∆ ∇ ▲ ▼ ⊙ ◐ ◑

•• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ ••

FORMATTING •• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ ••

Formatting is a bitch. THANKFULLY, we got some tips & tricks here to make it easier for all of you! This section will be going over gradient text, empty 'race' slots, headers, spacing, additional information and all that funky stuff that just makes it look nicer. Who thought moving text over or changing it's size would make such a difference!?

━━━━

Colour Gradients:

━━━━

Once again, thank you to @ladytruebane for showing me how to do this all the way back when I made the first guide. Give her love. Or else.

Okay, so you want to do something like this?

You're going to want to go to this website: https://www.stuffbydavid.com/textcolorizer

Put whatever text you wish within the box and the colours you would like. Copy paste the BBCode selection into your TRP. Every 'color' must be turned into 'col', every set of these brackets [ ] must be turned into these ones { }, the # & = must be erased and = must be replaced with : . It is a long process, but it won't show up unless you do this.

Below is a small video of me verbally explaining it as well (and showing how long it takes. (¬_¬") )

━━━━

Empty 'Race' Slot

━━━━

So you want to make race/class all one colour! It's actually HELLA easy.

Go to your Race Slot and delete everything in it, once you do that, press spacebar and BOOM. Empty! Just make sure whatever you want coloured is in the Class Slot, and it will appear the colour of your choice.

Small demo below!

━━━━

Headers

━━━━

How to make your text bigger! There are three sizes of header:

You can colour your headers whatever kind you want - the gradient even works with headers as well! Headers can be used for all sorts of things: Titles, About Sections, Quotes, Borders, Symbols, whatever you want! Icons are also effected by headers so you can orientate an icon wherever you'd like within your TRP!

Just make sure everything is within the {h1:c} & {/h1} or else it will appear as it's default size.

━━━━

Additional Information

━━━━

Additional Information can be a canvas to put whatever you want! Here's an example of what I do with mine!

The sky is your limit! You can really do anything with it. Here's a small video explaining spacing with Additional Information and some tricks I've learned.

•• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ •• LINKS •• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ ••

Links are where you put your. . .Links! Artwork, tumblrs, carrds, social links, etc etc. Here, I'll be showing you the different ways you can format links; orienting them on your page as well as turning them into icon images! The former was hard af to figure out but when you see how simple this is, you will laugh at me-

So formatting links; it's basically the same as formatting normal text as shown above. You can even colour them too! Here's a quick little show of how to make a coloured and formatted standard link.

The order of code for coloured links is as follows: Header (If wanted) > Colour Code > Link To make a link appear as an Icon, you MUST place the Icon Code within the text section (as seen in the video). If you do not, it will not appear and ruin the string of code.

•• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ •• BORDERS •• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ ••

Borders can be used wherever within your TRP! They're good for sectioning information and just making it look nice and formatted. There are three different kinds of borders: Symbols, Images & Icons. I will explain how to make your own, as well as share some for free use!

━━━━

Symbols

━━━━

Symbol-based borders are by far the easiest to make. You just type them out and play around with the symbols of your choice! You can really put them anywhere within your TRP - Additional Info, About, OOC info, literally ANYWHERE.

I encourage you all to try and make your own! I bet they'll be super cool. For now though, here's some examples ya'll can use.

∙ㅡㅡㅡ◐∙◑ㅡㅡㅡ∙

∙ ♩ㅡㅡ♪ ♬ ♪ ㅡㅡ♩ ∙

.°☆ ㅡㅡ°.♡.°ㅡㅡ ☆°.

∙. ㅡ~†~ㅡ .∙

° ㅡㅡ ° ◇ ◈ ◇ ° ㅡㅡ °

- . : .ㅡΩㅡ. : . -

━━━━

Images

━━━━

Image borders can come in two forms: full images or flattened images. The first is very explanatory, whatever image you pick can divide text. This can be scenery, crowns, gems, Blizzard-licensed character art & so much more! There's a butt load to pick from, so take the time to browse and find the perfect one.

Here's an example I did using a Revendreth image!

Flattened images can also be used as borders! To flatten an image, you must alter the last numbers within the string of code. As you can see here, this is the normal image and default code.

I go in and edit the number 128 to 5 and get this flattened image as a result!

Again, feel free to play around with this and find the images and sizes you love best! I've even seen some people super impose them for backgrounds??? Badass???

━━━━

Icons

━━━━

Icon borders are like the weird lovechild of Image & Symbol borders. With a mixture of Icons & Symbols, you can really make some cool shit. Icons can be formatted and moved around your profile with Headers. Like so!

•• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ ••

TRP ICON GLOSSARY •• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ ••

Here is a collection of aesthetic TRP Icons I've found and categorized for your usage! They are divided by UI-formatting, colour (random picks), Racial, Faction & then any other cute random ones I find.

Sadly, the black, white & brown Icon sections has to be cut due to the sheer GIRTH of this post. However, you can really find any sort of Icons within the searchbar! Keywords like colours (black, pink, green), races (Nightelf, Human, etc) and so much more can be found easily! Want your icon to be a class ability? Use the class as your keyword.

━━━━

Transparent Backgrounds

━━━━

These icons appear as their shape, rather than having a black box or background behind it. You can use these little guys for all sorts of things! I've seen people use them as borders, bullet-points, decor, like literally anything.

(Left 2 Right)

Red Paw: {icon:pet_type_beast:25}

Rat: {icon:pet_type_critter:25}

Dragon: {icon:pet_type_dragon:25}

Fire: {icon:pet_type_elemental:25}

Wing: {icon:pet_type_flying:25}

Helmet: {icon:pet_type_humanoid:25}

Sparkle: {icon:pet_type_magical:25}

Cog: {icon:pet_type_mechanical:25}

Skull: {icon:pet_type_undead:25}

Wave: {icon:pet_type_water:25}

Green Paw: {icon:tracking_wildpet:25}

(Left 2 Right)

Murloc: {icon:newplayerhelp_newcomer:25}

Green Dot: {icon:7fx_alphamask_glow_teal_blend:25}

Green Flag: {icon:newplayerhelp_guide:25}

Blue Heart: {icon:ui_jailerstower_defense:25}

Blue X: {icon:ui_jailerstower_offense:25}

Blue Lightning: {icon:ui_jailerstower_utility:25}

Tombstone: {icon:ui_jailerstower-scenario-deathcounter:25}

(Left 2 Right)

Grey Rune 10: {icon:cosmicenergy_rune_10_off:25}

Grey Rune B: {icon:cosmicenergy_rune_b_off:25}

Grey Rune G: {icon:cosmicenergy_rune_g_off:25}

Grey Rune K: {icon:cosmicenergy_rune_k_off:25}

Grey Rune M: {icon:cosmicenergy_rune_m_off:25}

Grey Rune N: {icon:cosmicenergy_rune_n_off:25}

Grey Rune O: {icon:cosmicenergy_rune_o_off:25}

(Left 2 Right)

Light Rune 10: {icon:cosmicenergy_rune_10_on:25}

Light Rune B: {icon:cosmicenergy_rune_b_on:25}

Light Rune G: {icon:cosmicenergy_rune_g_on:25}

Light Rune K: {icon:cosmicenergy_rune_k_on:25}

Light Rune M: {icon:cosmicenergy_rune_m_on:25}

Light Rune N: {icon:cosmicenergy_rune_n_on:25}

Light Rune O: {icon:cosmicenergy_rune_o_on:25}

(Left 2 Right)

Copper Sword: {icon:ui_rankedpvp_01_small:25}

Silver Sword: {icon:ui_rankedpvp_02_small:25}

Gold Sword: {icon:ui_rankedpvp_03_small:25}

Platinum Sword: {icon:ui_rankedpvp_04_small:25}

Diamond Swords: {icon:ui_rankedpvp_05_small:25}

Purple Swords: {icon:ui_rankedpvp_06_small:25}

Godly Swords: {icon:ui_rankedpvp_07_small:25}

(Left 2 Right)

Quest: {icon:tracking_warboard:25}

Experience: {icon:garr_currencyicon-xp:25}

Logs: {icon:garrison_material:25}

Alliance Circle: {icon:ui_allianceicon-round:25}

Horde Circle: {icon:ui_hordeicon-round:25}

━━━━

Red

━━━━

(Left 2 Right)

Lollipop: {icon:inv_valentinescandy01:25}

Snake: {icon:inv_snake_red:25}

Rose: {icon:inv_helm_misc_rose_a_01_red:25}

Syringe: {icon:inv_trinket_revendrethraid_02_red:25}

Vampiric Rune: {icon:inv_inscription_vantusrune_castlenathria01:25}

Question Mark: {icon:inv_misc_questionmark:25}

Heart: {icon:petbattle_health:25}

Fire Rune: {icon:spell_fire_rune:25}

Hunter’s Mark: {icon:ability_blackhand_marked4death:25}

Stitches: {icon:ability_rogue_garrote:25}

Bear Trap: {icon:ability_hunter_traplauncher:25}

Skull: {icon:ability_deathknight_necroticaura:25}

(Left 2 Right)

Rogue Mark: {icon:ability_rogue_deathmark:25}

Runeblade: {icon:inv_sword_1h_rogue_c_01:25}

Warlock Hood: {icon:inv_cloth_demonicdominationsuccubus_c_01_helmet:25}

Cleaver: {icon:inv_knife_1h_pigman_b_01:25}

Vampire Knives: {icon:inv_cape_special_revendreth_d_02:25}

Cannibalism: {icon:ability_racial_cannibalize:25}

Red Crystal: {icon:inv_jewelcrafting_gem_32:25}

Potion: {icon:trade_alchemy_dpotion_a16:25}

Thorns: {icon:inv_misc_necklacea6:25}

Red Matter: {icon:inv_artifact_corruptedbloodofzakajz:25}

Fire Bloom: {icon:inv_misc_herb_19:25}

Cherries: {icon:inv_misc_food_40:25}

Ruby Necklace: {icon:inv_jewelcrafting_necklace3_red:25}

━━━━

Orange

━━━━

(Left 2 Right)

Harvest Moon: {icon:ability_druid_eclipseorange:25}

Dash: {icon:ability_druid_dash_orange:25}

Curse Sigil: {icon:ability_creature_cursed_01:25}

Firewave: {icon:ability_rhyolith_magmaflow_wave:25}

Candle: {icon:inv_helm_misc_candle_a_01:25}

Tigerlily: {icon:inv_misc_herb_tigerlily:25}

Amber Necklace: {icon:inv_jewelry_necklace_75:25}

Goldfish: {icon:inv_magicalfishpet:25}

Banner: {icon:inv_shield_1h_drakonid_c_01:25}

Sword Sigil: {icon:spell_holy_sealofvalor:25}

Chi-Ji Crane: {icon:monk_stance_redcrane:25}

Bone Necklace: {icon:inv_7_0raid_necklace_08a:25}

(Left 2 Right)

Amber Potion: {icon:inv_alchemy_80_elixir01orange:25}

Darkmoon Eye: {icon:inv_darkmoon_eye:25}

Jack-o-Lantern: {icon:inv_misc_bag_28_halloween:25}

Fire Flower: {icon:inv_summerfest_fireflower:25}

Bottled Flame: {icon:inv_summerfest_firepotion:25}

Fire Fox: {icon:ability_racial_fireresist:25}

Scorched Hand: {icon:ability_siege_engineer_purification_beam:25}

Bronze Skull: {icon:inv_misc_breadofthedead:25}

Halloween Cat: {icon:achievement_halloween_cat_01:25}

Sanctum: {icon:warlock_sacrificial_pact:25}

Fireball: {icon:spell_mage_infernoblast:25}

Pumpkin Pie: {icon:ability_mage_conjurefoodrank9:25}

Animal Tracks: {icon:ability_tracking:25}

━━━━

Yellow

━━━━

(Left 2 Right) Clover: {icon:inv_misc_herb_goldclover:25}

Golden Harp: {icon:inv_misc_trinket_goldenharp:25}

Yellow Bird: {icon:inv_misc_thegoldencheep:25}

Priestly Hood: {icon:inv_helm_cloth_raidpriest_r_01_gold:25}

Marigolds: {icon:inv_misc_marrigolds_01:25}

Heavenly Feather: {icon:ability_priest_angelicfeather:25}

Golden Blade: {icon:inv_polearm_2h_drakonid_c_01:25}

Rightous Fist: {icon:spell_holy_rebuke:25}

Ducky: {icon:inv_g_fishingbobber_05:25}

Clock: {icon:spell_holy_borrowedtime:25}

Niuzao Symbol: {icon:monk_ability_avertharm:25}

Honey: {icon:inv_cooking_80_choralhoney:25}

(Left 2 Right)

Skull Trinket: {icon:inv_inscription_trinket_melee:25}

Pirate Map: {icon:achievement_ashran_tourofduty:25}

Domination Rune: {icon:ability_domination_rune13:25}

Cosmic Rune: {icon:inv_prg_icon_puzzle15:25}

Golden Lotus: {icon:achievement_faction_goldenlotus:25}

Holy Steed: {icon:spell_holy_crusaderaura:25}

Sun Icon: {icon:inv_qirajidol_sun:25}

Glowing Horseshoe: {icon:ability_mount_charger:25}

Cage: {icon:inv_box_birdcage_01:25}

Autumn Icon: {icon:ability_ardenweald_paladin_autumn:25}

Fan of Knives: {icon:ability_warrior_bladestorm:25}

Prayer: {icon:spell_priest_pontifex:25}

Butterfly: {icon:inv_pet_butterfly_orange:25}

━━━━

Green

━━━━

(Left 2 Right)

Dragon Wing: {icon:inv_10_gearupgrade_flightstone_green:25}

Poison Needle: {icon:ability_poisons:25}

Imprisoned: {icon:ability_demonhunter_imprison:25}

Dark Deal: {icon:achievement_general_raidrepresentation:25}

Toxic Maw: {icon:ability_creature_poison_01:25}

Crown: {icon:ability_rogue_controlisking:25}

Monk Symbol: {icon:ability_monk_zenmeditation:25}

Traveler: {icon:achievement_explore_argus:25}

Green Feather: {icon:inv_icon_feather01e:25}

Leaf: {icon:talentspec_druid_restoration:25}

Frog: {icon:inv_frog2_darkgreen:25}

Vines: {icon:inv_misc_herb_evergreenmoss:25}

(Left 2 Right)

Ring: {icon:inv_misc_6oring_greenlv4:25}

Gadget: {icon:inv_misc_enggizmos_20:25}

Necklace: {icon:item_icecrownnecklacec:25}

Bandages: {icon:inv_firstaid_bandage2:25}

Medical Symbol: {icon:achievement_guild_doctorisin:25}

Shield: {icon:ability_dragonriding_compassion01:25}

Toxic Sludge: {icon:ability_hunter_stickytarbombtrap:25}

Scythe: {icon:inv_knife_1h_maldraxxus_d_02:25}

Darkmoon Marker: {icon:inv_darkmoon_vengeance:25}

Fel Cloth: {icon:inv_fabric_felcloth_ebon:25}

Witch Pot: {icon:inv_misc_cauldron_nature:25}

Banner: {icon:inv_bannerpvp_03:25}

Demonic Rune: {icon:70_inscription_vantus_rune_tomb:25}

━━━━

Blue

━━━━

(Left 2 Right)

Transformation: {icon:spell_druid_incarnation:25}

Scaredy Cat: {icon:ability_druid_cower:25}

Tome: {icon:inv_7xp_inscription_talenttome02:25}

Skull: {icon:inv_offhand_1h_artifactdoomhammer_d_06:25}

Seashell: {icon:inv_ore_osmenite:25}

Blue Flower: {icon:ability_dragonriding_draconiccultivation01:25}

Mana Potion: {icon:trade_alchemy_dpotion_b10:25}

Bubble: {icon:creatureportrait_bubble:25}

Azuna: {icon:achievements_zone_azsuna:25}

Blue Moon: {icon:artifactability_balancedruid_fullmoon:25}

Icy Touch: {icon:ability_deathknight_icygrip:25}

Prowling Feline: {icon:ability_druid_prowl:25}

(Left 2 Right)

Arcane Intellect: {icon:spell_holy_arcaneintellect:25}

Frost Rune: {icon:spell_frost_wizardmark:25}

Frozen Heart: {icon:spell_frost_coldhearted:25}

Undead Wing: {icon:inv_icon_wingbroken07e:25}

Dewdrop: {icon:inv_misc_shadowdew:25}

North: {icon:ability_hunter_pathfinding:25}

Mug: {icon:inv_misc_food_cooked_madbrewbreakfast:25}

Arrow: {icon:ability_hunter_aimedshot:25}

Sparkles: {icon:spell_magic_managain:25}

Skull & Crossbones: {icon:ability_rogue_feigndeath:25}

Dagger: {icon:inv_weapon_shortblade_06:25}

Crystal Ball: {icon:inv_misc_orb_01:25}

Diamond: {icon:inv_misc_gem_02:25}

━━━━

Purple

━━━━

(Left 2 Right)

Screaming Skull: {icon:ability_creature_cursed_03:25}

Crescent Moon: {icon:talentspec_druid_balance:25}

Nightshade: {icon:inv_misc_herb_13:25}

Crystal Ball: {icon:spell_druid_momentofclarity:25}

Bear: {icon:spell_druid_guardianofelune:25}

Voidwalker: {icon:spell_shadow_summonvoidwalker:25}

Engulfing Shadows: {icon:ability_rogue_envelopingshadows:25}

Dark Dagger: {icon:ability_ironmaidens_convulsiveshadows:25}

Evil Spirit: {icon:inv__demonbolt:25}

Nighttime: {icon:spell_shadow_twilight:25}

Old God Eye: {icon:inv_eyeofnzothpet:25}

Evil Face: {icon:ability_demonhunter_vengefulretreat:25}

(Left 2 Right)

Arcane Rune: {icon:70_inscription_vantus_rune_suramar:25}

Dark Angel: {icon:ability_priest_darkarchangel:25} Origami: {icon:inv_inscription_crane:25} Grapes: {icon:inv_misc_food_58:25}

Totem: {icon:spell_shaman_dropall_03:25}

Ring: {icon:inv_10_jewelcrafting_rings_ring1_color2:25}

Swirling Dark: {icon:ability_warlock_soullink:25} Spider Webs: {icon:inv_misc_web_02:25}

Scarab: {icon:inv_misc_ahnqirajtrinket_01:25}

Clashing Swords: {icon:spell_holy_blessingofstrength:25} Skeleton Key: {icon:inv_treasurevault_key01:25}

Pendant: {icon:inv_misc_necklace_mop1:25}

Shadow Clone Runes: {icon:spell_holy_prayerofshadowprotection:25}

━━━━

Pink

━━━━

(Left 2 Right)

Perfume Bottle: {icon:inv_valentineperfumebottle:25} Orb: {icon:inv_misc_orb_02:25}

Tome: {icon:inv_misc_book_01:25}

Bomb: {icon:inv_misc_bomb_04:25}

Curse Rune: {icon:spell_warlock_demonbolt:25}

Cupid Bow: {icon:inv_bow_1h_love_c_01_pink:25}

Arcane Rune: {icon:ability_ardenweald_paladin_summer:25}

Icecream Meal: {icon:inv_misc_food_strawberry_ice:25}

Headress: {icon:inv_helm_cloth_legionquest100_b_01:25}

Plushie: {icon:inv_tailoring_elekkplushie:25}

Staff: {icon:inv_staff_16:25}

Faerie Fire: {icon:spell_nature_faeriefire:25}

(Left 2 Right)

Comb: {icon:inv_misc_comb_02:25}

Silk: {icon:inv_chest_cloth_58:25}

Pink Wing: {icon:inv_icon_wing04b:25}

Halo: {icon:ability_priest_halo_shadow:25}

Potion: {icon:inv_potion_34:25}

Pearl: {icon:inv_misc_enchantedpearl:25}

Scroll: {icon:inv_inscription_modified_craftingreagent08:25}

Eyeball: {icon:inv_misc_cat_trinket11:25}

Enchantment: {icon:inv_enchant_formulaepic_01:25}

Bloody Maw: {icon:spell_deathknight_gnaw_ghoul:25}

Demon Hunter Rune: {icon:ability_demonhunter_sigilpurple:25}

Berries: {icon:inv_cooking_80_wildberries:25}

Thread & Needle: {icon:inv_10_tailoring_purchasedthread_color4:25}

•• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ ••

TIPS & INFO •• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ ••

Simply a collection of little tricks and nuggets of info I've learned about TRP over the years. They don't quite count as formatting so uh. I dunno. This is my guide, I'll do what I want-

The larger your TRP is, the longer it will take to load. Don't feel put off if someone whispers you about it thinking they were accidently blocked!

A TRP doesn't have to be long to be good. Size doesn't matter, it's how you use it as they say.

Don't feel pressured to make your TRP a certain way. It's your TRP. Have fun with it and go crazy!

Don't feel afraid to reach out & ask other players how they did something in their TRP if you like it! Though some may still gatekeep techniques, there's been a shift in the TRP culture. You may make a new friend too!

If you get a TRP formatting error, you're most likely just missing a / or { } somewhere within the code. I do it all the time and a comb through the code normally shows me where one went missing.

BACK UP YOUR TRP! The worst feeling in the world is writing a super swag TRP only for it to get shitted on by a WoW update. Below, I'll show you a quick and easy way to do it.

•• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ ••

FURTHER RESOURCES

•• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ ••

Alternatives to AI Art, another post I’ve made awhile ago. The community has this weird culture about NEEDING character art, so here’s some alternatives to AI!

Super cute TRP templates done by this lovely tumblr account. Stumbled across them by chance, but I'm kinda adoring the themes & aesthetic they've got going??? @trp3-templates

A really amazing post on r/WoWRoleplay where the community has shared some more tips & tricks I haven't covered within this guide. It warms my heart to see us helping out each other!

The original TRP Aesthetic Guide I made years ago. All the information has been imported and improved here, but I'm a bit of a sentimental sucker, so I'll be linking it here too for legacy purposes.

•• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ •• CLOSING WORD •• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ ••

GUYS, it's been over a wholeass YEAR since I released the OG TRP Guide. That's crazy, yo. A lot happens in a year & I'm so glad to have heard how many people got my guide and appreciated it. You guys have gotten hella creative and I can't count how many swag & aesthetic TRPs I've seen since it's release. Not only that, but people have also been more open with sharing techniques & tips. Just makes me fuzzy inside or someshit.

Point is, since I released it there's a LOT of stuff I didn't know and even more things being found out. That, and there's a lot of stuff I thought was common knowledge that isn't; thus not adding it to the original one. I asSuMeD- So, I began asking some of you just how you were doing it & compiling EVERYTHING, just incase! Like the first, this project is a bunch of roleplayers coming together to make another fun resource for the community. ENOUGH MUSHINESS. GO MAKE A CUTE / SWAG TRP!

[tinwe-the-local-assassin]

The Best Timo

"Tyelko.”

The small hand of the little thief disappeared and away from the cookie tray on the counter at a speed which left Maitimo speechless and, if he was forced to admit, quite impressed.

The chided elfling looked up at him with his giant, ocean blue eyes and pouting lips and Maitimo could feel his resolve starting to waver.

So he had no choice but to look away.

“These are for my Eru Worship meeting with my friends. You have had your share. You can't have these, little one.”

His voice was gentle, yet firm and final. There, he had done it, and everything was ok–

He looked down when someone Tyelko pulled his hand, and found his impossibly huge eyes even bigger, somehow. His lips were starting to wobble, and his eyes looked moist.

With a longer glance, he found his face tense and forehead wrinkled as if he was under pressure.

Maitimo could only sigh.

“Don't force yourself to cry. You'll hurt your pretty little head.”

He ruffled his fluffy silver locks as Tyelko whined and stomped, feeling proud to have been able to overcome something as powerful as Tyelko's Huge, Sad Eyes gaze, or as Atya called it, Trap™.

“No!”

“No what?”

Tyelko huffed before clinging to his leg.

“No cookies for your friends. All cookies in the world are Tyelko!”

Maitimo couldn't help but snort at that before patting Tyelko's head.

“But then you would be so full, you can't eat my venison stew.”

Tyelko looked up at him with a frown. Sniffing, he took a moment before finally answering.

“Well…not all the cookies, but all of these cookies.”

“What about my friends, then?”

“They get their cookies from somewhere else. Like a bakery. These are mine!”

Maitimo couldn't quite hold back the laughter at this point. His brother was just too cute. And convincing, if he tried.

“But my friends like my baking, Tyelko.”

Sniffing again, Tyelko rubbed his face against Maitimo's pants. He grimaced. Hopefully none of the goop would be stuck to his clothing. He didn't have the time to change.

“Well, you not their Timo. You're Tyelko's Timo. They get their own Timo to make them cookies, even if you the best Timo and make the best cookies. They can have Aunt Findis’ sad diet banana cookies.”

Maitimo shouldn't have laughed this hard at this statement. He was going to an Eru worshipping meeting for Eru's sake!

He well remembered that sudden visit from his aunt, and her indeed sad looking cookies and the recipe written in her perfect handwriting. To make for Tyelko to manage the sugar he consumes. It's bad for him, she had said. But even Tyelko had enough self-respect to take one look at them, gag, and run for his life.

“Do you hate my friends enough to wish this upon them, brother?”

Tyelko pouted.

“They take Timo from Tyelko. Not nice.”

Maitimo couldn't help himself from cooing out loud and finally gave into the urge to scoop up his brother in his arms.

“Well, now that I am the best Timo out there, you know what I'm gonna do?”

Tyelko stopped squirming to stare at him, his cheeks blown out like a chipmunk.

“I’m gonna take you to my Eru Worship meeting, in the condition that you'll be good and won't make a mess. How does that sound?”

Tyelko let out the air he was holding and looked thoughtful for a moment.

“Timo hold Tyelko?”

He asked, and Maitimo just had to smooch his cheek. Tyelko giggled and threw his arms around Maitimo’s neck.

“Timo will always hold Tyelko.”

________

This little one shot was inspired by a silly RP between my friend and I after she shared a picture of the cookies for her Bible study.

Tyelko (me) don't like sharing cookies with anyone, esp if it was baked by Timo the Bro!

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

I really need some FtM Adam feeling comfortable wearing a dress.

I'm having some gender issues, so I'm craving some trans!Adam.

Rp of sinner!trans!Adam??

Oh are you okay? We can do that! ☺️

-

Adam brushed off any little crumbs that were on his dress, it wasn't very often that he wore feminine clothes anymore since transitioning but something about a nice dress every once in a while made him feel so fucking hot.

Not to mention that it was just his color, Adam swore he was meant to be rich why else would be look so fucking amazing in gold?

He should probably finish getting ready, his husband was waiting on him downstairs.

Adam slipped on some gold heels and earrings before going down to meet Lucifer.

Lucifer: There you are I've been-...... Wow

Adam: Looks nice right?

Lucifer: You look gorgeous my dove.~

Adam blushed as he took his hand and kissed it.

Adam: Worth the Wait?

Lucifer: More than worth it. You'll put everyone to shame at that party. Kinda wish we didn't have to go now, so I could poke around up your skirt.~

Adam giggled: Luci!!

Ugh, his voice cracked that hadn't happened in a while. But that's how flattered he is! Cheeky man working him up.

Lucifer: What?~ There's always time in the limo.~

He took Adams hand and they got in the limo. Lucifer put up the tinted window divider so the driver couldn't see them. Adam laid back in the long seat, he bit his lip as his husband went up his dress and pulled his panties down before disappearing underneath to eat him out.

((Adams outfit))

[yameoto]

Hey so you're just about the only person I feel decent asking this question, Would you happen to have any tips to make messages more...interesting? I find myself using the same adjectives, ending up in the same spot with different characters, etc, etc. And was just wondering if you had anything i could use to spice things up again.

don’t just “react” to the bot. be proactive! lead the scenario where you think is interesting, get out of the first location, and don’t be afraid to make it wild. roleplay as if you were actually roleplaying with an individual—thread context n backstory in there. the longer and more detailed Your message, the same for the bot.

your own imagination is important! if you’re struggling, it helps to build off the contextual world of the specific bot, and what makes sense.

i.e letting stepsister!quinn drag her poor innocent stepsister out after curfew to see a sleazy rock concert is a vastly different scenario than singlemom!quinn letting you meet her daughter for the first time. OR, these above two would be very different to any theboys!au bots, in which the world means inherent danger, such as using the soldier boy bot (brainwashing him, forcing him to nuke vought etc). BUT, frankly, you can do ALL those scenarios with ALL the bots. how willing you are to suspend your disbelief is the only limit here. quinn can be a merc in training if you wish, just as ben can be your pervy step!brother. woah. might make both bots.

nor do you have to take the bot greeting as holy grail. you can start off the same bot with an entirely new scenario. bots are adaptable! and they’ll follow the new input. i’m guilty of this when i’m too lazy to make a new bot for a character but i still want to rp a different scenario.

basically, bots are NOT fixed. everything can be soft-rewritten by YOUR messages. i tend to get bots out of their starting location as fast as possible.

same goes for YOU! {{user}}. you can be anyone you want to be. you could be a pop star. an olympic gymnast. a member of the mafia. you can bring in so much of your own angst or backstory and thread it into your responses, and lead it in ways that play off your backstory.

i can’t help you with vocabulary unfortunately! this is something that comes with a lot of reading/writing. unless you want a list of synonyms you rote-learn with flashcards. if it’s any comfort to you, nobody is judging you on how many times you use the same words! just be wary the bot may copy your prose and end up very repetitive.

+ for smut, if you’re searching for new scenarios. whatever you find hot.

examples (with explanation) below

doctor!quinn.

one; is almost purely reactionary, however it has a bit of context that alludes to the greater history of the role-play.

two; reactionary, with context threaded through. bot reads subtext just as people do, and can pick it up on the idea 1. quinn/user have been working together for a long time, and that there is familiarity/routine/casual intimacy in their relationship.

three; split. mainly background, though the second paragraph is the actual reaction/response (and what most people would ONLY write!) the first paragraph gives a heapload of info to the bot that it can use to inform their interactions.

fair warning! you don’t need to write as much as me, i tend to get carried away when i actually do roleplay because else i get terribly bored repeating scenarios or not exercising a little bit of effort. i will say, however, it makes for much more rewarding roleplays.

hope this helped <3

[utilitycaster]

as a bit of a coda to my post re: C3 likely ending very soon and why some of the worst of C2 fan responses are unlikely, I want to highlight something from C2's ending I forgot that is still relevant: the ending of the campaign is ultimately much more about when the party would part ways, rather than every single thing being resolved. There are also important parts of people's stories that just don't translate well to D&D actual play (notably in C2, Thoreau and Trent being put on public trial).

No matter what Bells Hells do, everything about the moon will have long-term ramifications, and because of Imogen and Fearne we will presumably get some idea of the fate of Ruidusborn in the immediate sense, but anything more needs to marinate. For all I take issue with the ending of Rusty Quill Gaming (not spoiler tagging as it's 2+ years old but: destruction of all magic, arcane and divine, with basically no lead-in or earlier seeding that this was a possibility) they did make the very intelligent choice to end the campaign right after the climactic battle, and then show two brief RP-centric epilogues for the characters, one five years out and one further down the line, to give snapshots of how the world and characters have adapted. Those epilogues did a lot to soften my opinion of an ending that I genuinely think wasn't very well done, because they were thoughtfully chosen.

The Mighty Nein were very much not done adventuring, to a degree, but they were done with the adventures they were having as a group, at least as a constant thing (obviously, they'll bring the gang back together - they're doing so right now). They had conflicting needs that were all somewhat time sensitive, and several of them did wish to pause and spend time with their family at that point. Some of what we thought were plot hooks at the time became stories for another party (Team Wildemount in Molaesmyr was a highlight of C3 for me!), some were the subject of one-shots (Uk'otoa and Trent), and some might be even more long term, whatever that may mean (Chained Oblivion - which could also in theory pay off even in the presumably very few C3 episodes we have left).

So: not every plot thread needs to be wrapped up, the end of a campaign doesn't mean the end of a story, and some parts of a story are better told outside the context of the campaign. Again: I am not judging you for being sad it's ending! In fact, I think anyone who is doing that is kind of an asshole! But I do think it's important to recall that the campaign ending and the story ending are different things, and to consider what actually needs to be wrapped up for a satisfying conclusion, vs what you want to see, particularly because "what you want to see" is very likely to still come to pass down the line as a one-shot, two-shot, beat in a future campaign, or something else. (Unless it's some non-canon shipping bullshit in which case. please check out ao3. great website. will have what you want.)

[chevvy-ryder]

/// gaining access_ scanning file_ … /// CH04_SILENCE_IS_OPPRESSION.file breaching_ ⇢ data is safe_ ⇢ LOW-RES file extracted_ ⇢ no malware detected_ ⇢ savely accessible via shared cloud 'G-Drive'_ ⇢ no account needed_ /// —

If you are not content with Cyberpunk's canon specific violence, horror-like scenes, mention of blood, death, drugs and some explicit sexual mlm content throughout the story, it might not be of your interests. I orientated a bit on ao3's content ratings and warnings and will update it for every new chapter so you will know when e.g. there's gonna be smut. Feel free to reach out to me if I should add something to it.

We are happy about comments/feedback. Feel free to post them in this post, reblog with a tag-comment or send a private message. I won’t post/upload it anywhere else than here. I would be very happy not to find it anywhere else either other than saved onto your devices — so please no re-uploading, thank you.

Best viewed on a computer as the pdf is exporterd as print sheet to give the feel of a book. If a bunch wish to have single pages I will see I can add those as well but it will take me a bit of refining the pages again as they are fit for double paged layouts.

Make sure to follow the tag #Cyberpunk 2078 – Pandemonium if we got you hooked so you won't miss out for the next chapter. We/I are not fast in converting our rp chapters so future chapter posts won't happen on a regular basis.

—

Cyberpunk®/Cyberpunk 2077® belongs to CD Projekt©/CD Projekt Red®. Original characters belong to @nervouswizardcycle and @chevvy-ryder.

Content & VP by @chevvy-ryder. Artwork & Graphic Design by @chevvy-ryder. Used fonts/textures are bought/open-source-material/free for commercial use.

[myeyesarebiggerthanmybladder]

Introducing myself to the many people of Tumblr!

Hello! Depending on the time zone of whoever is reading this, it could be morning, afternoon, evening or night, so I thought a simple greeting would suffice -- otherwise I would of course have said "good evening". I should also note to myself that not everybody will read this at the same time, so even if time zones were not a problem it could still cause issues to mention a particular time in my introduction. I will try to keep this as concise as possible so as to account for the fact that blocks of text are difficult to read on a screen as well as the unfortunate fact that people's attention spans are decreasing almost by the day. I myself struggle to pay attention to something for a long period of time unless that thing is of particular interest to me, so I understand how necessary it is to keep my words to a minimum. I suppose I should tell you my name here, which as you can see from the title of my blog is Akechi Touma. I won't tell you my age or the name of my school -- disclosing my full name is already a risky decision and revealing anything more would be incredibly careless thing to do! While lurking here I've noticed that many of my real-life acquaintances have chosen to share their location as part of their introduction and I must say that I shake my head whenever I see it. Internet safety is no joke, and revealing too much of your personal information online could have serious consequences! Fortunately I am someone who likes to keep things close to my chest, so I am fairly confident that I will be safe from stalkers or predators or anyone else who may wish to do me harm. Speaking of predators, if you do plan on saying anything lewd or "Not Safe For Work" in my inbox then I must ask that you refrain from interacting. I won't hesitate to block those who break this rule as it is one I take very seriously and I simply do not wish to deal with people like that. I sometimes wonder why these people don't have anything better to do, and how sad their life must be if their primary source of entertainment is making strangers uncomfortable over the internet. It's important to remember that those behind a screen are still real people, and your perverted or unkind words can affect them a great deal. That brings me to my second rule, which is that I kindly ask you to refrain from rude or bullying messages in my inbox. That sort of thing is incredibly unkind and can really bring a person's mood down -- although I do try not to let strangers' words affect me too much and have had plenty of experience with rather unpleasant people which has led me to develop a relatively thick skin. This, like the first rule, will result in an instant block if broken -- though I will devise a personal point system for how rude a message must be before I block the person sending it. Sometimes a person can be rude without intending to -- unfortunately people have told me that I tend to fall into this habit myself -- so I will endeavour to be as tolerant as possible. I don't think there are any more rules I need to mention, though if I think of any more I will be sure to add them!

TL;DR: no nsfw and no bullying! Otherwise, ask whatever you like.

OOC:

This blog is co-run by @billiuspendragon and @beepaboopadoop

To clarify on the rules -- I won't allow anything NSFW beyond the kinds of jokes that are in the canon of Saiki K. Akechi sometimes rambles about inappropriate things himself but I'll use my own common sense to figure out whether asks cross the line or not -- I'm not a minor but many people in this RP community are and I don't want to make them feel unsafe or uncomfortable.

I have quite a lot of RP blogs now so we'll see if I can keep this up lmao. I just really wanted to try roleplaying as my guy!

[angeart]

hhau mimic arc rambles - part IV: the inbetween (make the danger feel good)

(~11 k words) // other parts & au masterpost here

there's a bunch of things in this one that might make some people want to skip it. please be aware this tips into suggestive stuff (ok maybe a notch beyond the line, but nothing too explicit). there's certainly intimacy, nudity (that was there all along but now we Pay Attention To It) and more prominent cws would probably be... everything around vex instincts. so mentions of: blood, biting, consensual violence, blood/fear-play, prey-play?? they're deranged. i tried to keep it as tame as possible lol but be aware those are the topics and tones.

in case you skip this one, just know this is when scar and grian start to be truly intimate, and this is when grian gets the mating bite from scar (neither of them are aware that's what it is; there's a whole bunch of bites.) (dEranged.) also, there's more wing touches.

rp based, so wordy. <3 this follows directly after the wing spiral so we're still in the hotspring cave

---

The moment slowly tips into something else as they both lay on the spread-out cloak, fire crackling behind Grian’s back, his still somewhat-damp wing slung gingerly across Scar.

It all drags at Scar’s heartstrings, watching as Grian navigates his way through the maze back to something sensible, something more like himself. Freckles barely show in the flickering light, eyes dark and shiny from recent emotions, a bruised spot on his lip from nervous biting. Grian’s hair falls around him in soft, golden strands, fire painting over them with copper.

“You’re…” Scar stops, almost scared to finish the sentence. It feels like they’ve reached a comfortable silence after what felt like literal hours of agony. But he’s already broken it, so— He tucks his head into Grian’s hand, smothering the words into his palm. “… so beautiful.”

He looks at Grian’s eyes when he says it. No part of his wings, even though he means to include every bit of him. But he needs Grian to know he means it whether the feathers are included or not.

A swell of emotions rushes through Grian at that; he isn’t sure how to react, all he knows is he feels heat and tingling, and it’s so, so very different from the tingling of that numbness from earlier. This is nervous, skittish, warm, present. He feels rooted to the moment, to the softness of Scar’s eyes and his breath against Grian’s palm and—

And he feels like Scar is a hot spring and Grian is floating, melting into it.

“You can’t— You can’t say that,” he sputters, not quite able to pull forth any better quips than something stumbling and lost and irredeemably flustered. “What do you even mean.”

As soon as he says that, he realises those words might be a mistake. He doesn’t want Scar to answer.

Grian’s mind spins for something else to jump to, and he blurts out, ridiculously: “It’s because you washed my hair.” (He doesn’t quite remember that either. He regrets falling asleep so fast, although he can’t deny he slept so well, even if only briefly. He… really needed that.)

“Mm,” Scar mumbles into Grian’s palm again, buzzing his lips there. “No, I thought that before I washed your hair, too.” He was meaning not to say something embarrassing again, but failed completely.

Grian’s mind snags on the way Scar’s words feel against his palm, a riveting, delightful experience that he wishes to relive a million times. His thumb gingerly brushes across the heated skin of Scar’s cheek, but he keeps his palm in place, ready to catch any and all words that might spill out of Scar’s lips. 

“You’re silly and sappy,” Grian accuses, but it sounds so achingly soft and fond.

Scar changes his mind almost instantly about not saying embarrassing things, seeking out more of that softness Grian’s voice holds— that simplicity and affection. He’ll keep saying embarrassing things if he gets that. It’s worth it.

“This is true,” he admits easily. “But I’m also right.”

Craning his neck, Grian leans in to place a kiss against Scar’s face, tender and loving. (He’s weaving all the gratitude into it, all the affection, all the apologies and forgiveness all at once.) “You’re also ridiculous,” he adds, a little bit cheekily, but it again carries no bite, words made of cotton and warmth.

His wing shifts higher, covering their upper torsos and faces, dunking them into more darkness—something that instantly makes Grian sleepy. The fire crackles behind his back, somewhat still keeping up, although definitely in need of more fuel. 

Grian doesn’t want to move.

“Also true.” Scar nods. “Thank you for noticing.” 

There’s an unsaid thank you for so many more things in the way Scar delivers the line so seriously: Thank you for speaking to me. Thank you for shielding us with your wings. Thank you for going along with my shenanigans. 

Thank you for being here. 

Scar wants to fall asleep then and there, unperturbed by the mess of remaining concerns that still plague them, but he tries to be the strong one here. “…I should fuel the fire. Maybe set up a small perimeter so we can both get some sleep?” 

He wants to sleep beside Grian. He doesn’t want to take turns keeping watch.

And isn’t that a wonderful thought? For both of them to be able to sleep at the same time, curled up together by a warm fire?

They don’t get that often.

Grian latches onto that hope, pushing his fatigued body up as he gingerly releases Scar from the cocoony hold of his wing. He offers to help even though his mind still feels a little slow, body a little off; if he can assist Scar and make this happen, then he wants to do it.

Scar gets up reluctantly, but he’s pleasantly surprised how little his muscles protest after the nice soothing bath they received. That’s a rarity. He directs Grian to check up on the fire while he’ll make some walls, promising cuddles at the end of it. 

The idea of that sort of reward makes pushing through their exhaustion and putting in the effort worth it.

Tending the fire isn't a skill they needed on Hermitcraft, but through trial and error, they learned the best ways to distribute fuel materials for the most efficiency and the least smoke. It comes to Grian easily now, automatic, and notably it takes much less time than wall building.

Once satisfied, Grian looks over at Scar, asking if he should help with the wall. After all, the faster they're done, the faster they can cuddle. 

Scar nods, noting he’s sleepy and he might miss spots. A second pair of eyes to check after him would be good, and any help is certainly appreciated, especially since it’s their safety at stake here. He’s using a bit of a hodgepodge arrangement of materials, just doing the minimum to keep mobs out, but it’ll do, as long as they do it properly. 

Grian pushes himself to his feet; his wings feel a little strange, and he can't quite tell why, but he swerves away from thinking about it. His muscles feel weak, wanting to go back to blissful resting, looking forward to sleep. A faint lightheadedness hits him at the first step, but a short pause and a deep breath is enough to chase it away.

He slots himself next to Scar, reaching to take some materials from him. As soon as he's in his orbit, Scar can’t help but reach over and lightly touch him on the waist, pulling him in for a brief, only slightly-awkward kiss. He smiles, toothy and real, before handing off some of his materials, whistling to himself like it didn’t happen as he turns back around.

Grian can't help but adore and crave the easy intimacy; the way he's reached for and tugged and kissed, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He gravitates towards Scar in return, peeking at him and quietly studying his expression as Scar whistles and works.

There isn't terribly much needed to do with the walls, and Grian fixes up his end to the best of his capabilities given his energy level, then makes sure to look over Scar's work as requested, too, making sure they don't miss something due to fatigue. (Mistakes are too costly here. They can’t afford them.)

When they're done, Grian clicks his tongue appraisingly. "It's not a terracotta shack, but it'll do."

Scar snickers, highly amused by the callback. “Yeah, it might actually be uglier. I should put up a sign for any googlies to leave a review.” He slips in behind Grian and kisses the top of his head, wrapping his arms around his waist. “Mmm, warm clothes?”

Grian shifts his wings gently out of the way, but he itches to press himself against Scar, so he clumsily turns around in his loose grip, trying to maintain some space for his feathers as he goes. 

Somehow, now that this is all very intentional, without the mental fog and fresh tears and jumbled cravings, this feels more intimate. Their bare chests are near each other, reverberating with heartbeats and moving with their breaths, and there's so much skin and—

Timidly, Grian's fingers find Scar's waist, a featherlight touch exploring upwards, fingertips counting across the lower ribs.

He leans in and presses a soft kiss to Scar's jaw. "Mm." His head tips and he rests his forehead against the spot he's just kissed. His hand travels higher, across Scar's chest, to his shoulder, mapping out his skin. "Warm clothes," he agrees, even though nothing about his actions suggests that.

Scar shivers at the drawn out touch over his bare skin, ears flicking wildly as his heart stutters in his chest for a moment. Sure, he’s no stranger to walking about without a shirt, but people don’t typically touch— 

He rather likes it when Grian does, however.

Not nearly as bold, Scar settles for tracing small shapes over Grian’s sides, gentle and reverent.  “And warm cuddles,” he adds, also not making any move to do so.

Grian hums at Scar's touch; on nothing but wishful instinct, he moves closer, trying to get deeper into Scar's hold. (He wants Scar's hands to wrap around him. To envelop him fully and properly.) (He wants to be held.) (He wants to be wanted, in a way so wholly different from what this world demands.)

He tips his head and presses a kiss to the side of Scar's throat as his fingertips dance from Scar's shoulders across his collarbone. He likes this. Being able to trace paths across Scar's skin. To, hopefully, provide him with something that can touch him without causing pain and scarring. 

The air is cold on the back of his neck, and he figures Scar is not any better off, without having the extra fluff of feathers shielding his spine. He tucks a small sigh against the hollow of Scar's throat, because he knows he should pull away. He knows they should get dressed. His legs feel weak underneath him, craving a bed. (There's no bed here) 

"Yeah... Yeah. Let's go get some rest."

He's still not moving to make any of it happen.

Scar really doesn’t want Grian to let go of him right now (nor does he want to let go), so he’s glad Grian is yet to make a move to leave. He’s tired and cold and wants to go to sleep, but after the absolute rollercoaster back and forth of emotions, Scar is too attached to this moment of serenity. 

In a spur of stubborn refusal, Scar strengthens his grip and lifts, hoisting Grian up just enough so that maybe he can walk them both over. He pulls the avian tight, letting him secure his balance onto him.

And it’s silly, because they’re really not even that far from the fire— and they still need to separate to put on their clothes. They’re still only in their underwear, which makes Scar’s ears twitch again when it occurs to him.

But it’s worth it.

Just a little more contact.

He needs it so bad.

Grian lets out a delighted chirp in surprise as Scar's hold on him tightens, and then— then he loses contact with the ground. He tips forward, easily trusting Scar with his weight, and he giggles quietly against the crook of Scar's neck. His wings unfurl, instinctively seeking out balance. (He doesn't remember when was the last time they felt free to do this; to give in to instincts.) (He isn't even paying attention to them, not really aware that it is happening.)

Without complaint, he presses himself against Scar, and oh, this is different. This is skin on skin. This is—

“Mhm, off to sleep with us!” Scar cheers as he presses Grian close to his chest.

Grian wraps his arms around Scar's shoulders and stays close, heart hammering against his chest in a way that Scar's surely bound to feel, right against his own ribcage. He coos in a flustered encouragement at Scar's statement. Off to sleep. (He'd go anywhere Scar takes him right now. He'd stay anywhere Scar puts him. He'd be anywhere Scar wants him.)

Maybe the earlier struggle was all worth it if Scar gets to hear those sweet little chirps pressed into his neck and feel Grian’s heartbeat against his own fluttering chest. Past anxieties forgotten, Scar is entirely smitten. He feels warm even though logically he shouldn’t. He hums a jaunty tune while he walks them both back over to the fire, pleased with himself and the entirely unnecessary decision to carry Grian. 

And Grian happily lets himself be carried, even though he could’ve easily taken those four steps himself. He isn’t carried out of necessity (for once). He’s being carried because Scar wants to carry him, wants to hold him, wants to keep him pressed close. It warms Grian, too. It makes him feel cherished and safe.

But he’s always been made of mischief, and he can’t help it. He tips his head, lips brushing over the skin of Scar’s throat, and then he’s baring his teeth, letting them come into the gentlest contact with the skin. (Just to tease.) (Just for the reaction.) (His hold on Scar tightens just in case he’s about to be dropped in response.)

Scar’s legs wobble as he muffles a tiny yelp, but he’s been trained to deal with Grian’s tendency toward menace, so he does manage to stay on his feet and keep his grip. 

If he dips just a little and lightly pinches at Grian’s sides though? Deserved. 

“Youuuu…” Scar warns, attempting to growl even though it comes out purely silly. “You love to tempt fate, don’t you?”

Grian takes a sharp breath and squirms as Scar dips, holding onto him. (Even if Scar did want to drop him, Grian refuses to go easily.) At Scar's light disgruntlement, Grian huffs out a breathless laugh, all of it right against Scar's pulsepoint. His teeth are back on Scar's skin, still gentle, but he does apply a little bit more pressure this time, cheekily. 

"Maybe I do." He sounds entirely too cheerful and unbothered, another quiet laughter broken against Scar's throat.

“Mmmm,” Scar grumbles, holding back a full-body shiver. It’s definitely the chill. Definitely.

In retaliation, Scar takes one large step to finish their path to the fire, then dips Grian even lower, threatening to plop him back down on the cloak. “Then accept your fate, you rascal!” Scar cackles, wriggling his fingers at Grian’s sides to try to get him to forcibly let go and fall the rest of the way down to the floor.

Grian laughs openly now���at Scar's attempts to get him off. At his grumbles. At being called a rascal. He delights in it and stays stubbornly clinging to Scar, wrapping his legs around him for extra security.

"I like to tempt fate, Scar, not accept it," he informs him all too giddily, voice still heavily tinged by laughter. "And you can't get rid of me."

Scar snickers, amused by his new clinging bird accessory. “Ah, I wouldn’t dream of it, but—“ He exaggeratively sways from side to side like he’s trying to shake Grian off (he’s really not). “—pesky birds deserve retribution!”

Grian still holds on, unwilling to lose. He cranes his neck, on his way to the next mayhem. "Well then you're going to have to try harder," he lectures. And he lightly squeezes Scar's earlobe in his teeth. (It's not his fault it was so perfectly within reach.) (It's not his fault he has zero impulse control when he gets pesky.)

Scar opens his mouth to say something in return, but all that comes out is a flustered squeak. His face properly flushes as his ear attempts to flick out of reach. ”Griannn!!” he whines, embarrassment obvious in his tone. He’s released his hands at this point, but Grian’s grip is all too secure. So now his hands wave about in the air pathetically, unable to decide on exactly what retribution is in order for Grian.

Grian laughs, a bright, joyful, unbridled cackle pressed against the sensitive patch of skin directly under Scar's ear. His wings flap lightly (the fire flickers momentarily, sparks sent flying, explosive like Grian's soul) at the loss of Scar's hold as he rebalances himself, but remains clingily wrapped against Scar, not budging. "Yes, Scar?" he hums innocently.

Scar finally settles on some form of revenge, bringing out his claws and trailing a very long drag of his nails up Grian’s spine, careful not to actually scratch— just a graze, just a tickle, just a suggestion. He can’t go too far without risking touching the wings, but he does what he can. Grumbles again in response to the innocent hum from a very not innocent bird. “Menace,” he breathes out, still somewhat dazed.

Grian doesn't even try not to shudder under the graze of Scar's claws; he's sure Scar can feel the way he took in breath, then held it in, too. The uptick of his heart rams against Scar's ribs as Grian presses closer, an instinctual back-arch to the sensation.

He still manages to laugh again, a breathless little thing. "Your menace, though."

And it's surprisingly easy, to give himself over to Scar, in a world where everyone wants to own a part of him.

Scar stops that slow drag of claws, settling somewhere in the middle of Grian’s back and instead tapping them there as he hums out what comes across a bit too much like a low growl. It’s not meant to be threatening— it’s not even meant to come out at all, really— it was supposed to be an exaggerated groan, but it instead comes off as a deeply satisfied confirmation. 

“Mine,” Scar concedes, voice barely a whisper, before remembering they’re meant to be teasing. “… Lucky me.” 

Except he’s still not kidding.

And yet despite the fondness with which Scar means it, there's an instant swell of something ugly in Grian at the words lucky me, a razor-edged impulse to make Scar regret those words, to show him just how wrong he is— but he swallows it all down, in a moment of uncharacteristic quiet after all the giggling. He presses himself closer to Scar, takes a deep breath, tries to claw his way back to that pesky playfulness from just seconds ago.

Instead of more teasing, he tips into tenderness. His hold loosens, and he presses his lips to the side of Scar's neck. 

He isn't sure Scar understands just how his Grian is. 

A breathless half-chuckle leaves him despite himself. And he can't help but ask, quietly, edging shyness. "Does that mean you're mine...?" He's okay with the answer being no. He'll still be Scar's, heart and soul. But... He just wants to know. To hear Scar say it. "My ridiculous person?" These words come easier, softer, more playful.

Scar’s hands shift back to holding Grian, claws fading away into harmlessness. He tries to lean his head back to see him, to look at him as the words fall into place so easily. But Grian doesn't let him pull away, doesn't let him move to see his face; he burrows, hiding himself in the crook of Scar's neck. His wings fold—still loose, instead of what they're used to—feathers slotting over Scar's skin without a hassle. 

Scar doesn’t mind Grian’s insistence on keeping his face pressed close. He likes that as well. In fact, he gives up on dropping Grian down at all and plops himself onto the cloak with Grian still attached. 

“Always,” he replies, voice still low and grainy, but filled to the brim with affection. “Always yes.”

"Always," Grian echoes quietly, and the word leaves his tongue like something precious and fragile.

Feeling sappy, as usual, Scar tacks on, “… Have been for a while.”

Words line themselves up in Grian's mind like poison, things to fight back and argue with, to explain that this is not going to be good for Scar. That he really, really isn’t lucky for this.

He swallows them all down. This isn't about that. This isn't and shouldn't be about that.

Scar is saying something incredibly fond, and Grian shouldn't try to destroy it.

His wings press tighter, feathers still slumped right over Scar's arms. 

"... Can we keep it that way...?" he asks in the end.

“Mm, I’d like to, yes.” Scar nods, teeth clacking as he grows a big grin. He takes one hand to fumble for Grian’s sweater.

"Okay." Grian pauses, and then adds in a soft murmur: "Me too." He feels Scar move, but doesn't process what he's reaching for. Grian just stays clinging to him, placated by Scar's words and his hold.

Scar brings the warm fabric over to their bare skin. It makes him giggle slightly at the heat, because it means at least one of his ideas tonight was good. “Here,” he says as he pushes the sweater in between them for the warmth. “As much as I’d love to offer to help you dress—“ he clicks his teeth again in amusement. “—might be a little difficult.”

Taking the soft, warm fabric, Grian puffs his cheeks in an overdramatic pout. "Don't need help, I know how to dress myself." That being said, he still doesn't let go of his wrap around Scar, even though this isn't the best position for putting clothes on.

“Oh I know, but I like to touch you,” Scar goads, grinning innocently.

Grian's cheeks heat up, the words spurring him enough to pull away just to be able to look at Scar, wide-eyed and flustered. "You wh—"

“Hm?” Scar continues to grin, innocent as ever. He looks over Grian, seeing the red trickle over his cheeks. “Oh I think you heard me, but I can repeat myself if you want?” Now that he has the chance, he leans his face in close to Grian, even completing the act with a goofy wink.

"No!" Grian immediately says as his hands fling up, covering Scar's mouth just in case he'd do it anyway, and oh, it's good that Scar is sitting down and holding Grian, because if they were still up, Grian'd definitely fall. His wings fling out anyway, just in case, gathering his balance. The sweater pools between them, a warm barrier between their chests. "That— You don't have to repeat it," Grian blabbers, red.

Scar kisses the palms that cover his mouth, several times like an attack to free himself from the hand prison. He muffles into them as well in between kisses: “But I want to!”

"Scaaaar," Grian groans, and he releases Scar from his hold, only to bury his own very red and very warm face in his freshly-free palms.

Scar follows those hands despite just being freed, kissing them again now that they cover Grian’s face. “I mean you’re not making a lot of progress putting on your sweater— are you sure you don’t want help?” His hands find their way to Grian’s chest, pressing lightly right in the middle.

Grian's heart positively skips a beat, a tiny squeak leaving him at the offer. He's dissipating, too flustered to really form words. 

He wants to scold Scar again. 

He wants to tell him he's fine, he can dress himself. 

He wants to tell him that, actually, yes, Scar can help, whatever that help would actually mean.

Instead he just grumbles something incoherent and flustered into his palms.

Still feeling playfully devious, Scar slides his hands up Grian’s chest over to his bare arms, grabbing slightly and pulling them upward. His movements are needlessly slow and incredibly drawn-out. “Well it would help if you raised your arms like this…” he teases, far too pleased with himself for the shade of red that’s spreading across Grian’s skin

Grian's palms are still pressed to his face, the angle Scar tugs at slightly awkward, but it doesn't make the explosion of sensations rushing through him any weaker. Scar's touch is so delicate, so slow, Grian can't help but go insane under it. 

He makes more incomprehensible noises into his palms. His arms shiver under Scar's fingertips. The hold of his palms over his face relents a little bit, not because he doesn't want to be hidden anymore, but because everything in him yearns to give in to Scar's guidance, no matter Scar's goals.

Gingerly, the palms leave Grian’s face, his arms lifting the littlest bit. His eyes shine, flooded by some deep, rich and raw—and entirely flustered—emotion. His lips are slightly parted, cheeks flushed— and then his earwings fling to take the spot his hands occupied just a moment ago, hiding him away from Scar's gaze in a flash.

Scar’s entire plan comes to a stumbling halt when he sees Grian’s face. His eyes are shamelessly drawn to Grian’s lips, the way they hang open ever so slightly, framed by reddened cheeks and accented freckles. 

He’s momentarily stunned, enamored by the gorgeous sight before him, but it’s stolen away all too soon. And with the earwings no less, so he can’t exactly pry them off. 

He decides to drag his hands back down to settle in the dip of Grian’s shoulders, no longer fooling either of them into believing this has anything to do with helping. “Hey—“ he starts, unsure of what to say exactly, but gosh does he want to see Grian’s face again. “Don’t hide from me,” he croons, voice low and sultry.

Scar's touch is electrifying, sending sparking signals across Grian's body, something culminating in the pit of his stomach. He's asked not to hide, but his embarrassment only rises, at the implication that revealing himself would mean being plunged straight to being seen, Scar's eyes surely intense and scrutinising.

He whines a little, breathing deeply but shakily against Scar's hands.

And then he shifts the earwings, just a little bit, half-obliding, peeking through the feathers.

Scar is about to complain, insist Grian show his entire face, but this is even cuter and he can hardly handle it. His expression shifts into something softer, adoring. Instead of his drawling voice from before, confident and insistent, Scar speaks timidly, an easy smile spread across his face. “… Hi, pretty.”

Grian huffs against his feathers; his earwings twitch, wanting to go back to shielding him as embarrassment swirls in between his ribs, spreading incessant warmth through his face. 

But he is drawn to Scar, like a damned moth to a flame, and he can't pry his eyes away from the soft fondness in Scar's green ones. "Hi," he returns, voice cracking.

Scar leans down to place a kiss on Grian’s chin where his feathers don’t quite reach. He wants to say so many things, keep showering Grian with compliments, but he spares him. He lingers close to Grian’s lips with a sly smile, eyes flickering up to meet his. “… Your sweater’s gonna get cold.”

With Scar this close, Grian's earwings twitch a little bit more out of the way—not out of unwillingness to brush against Scar, but because— Well. Grian's tightening stomach has something to say about Scar hovering so close to his lips. 

"Don't care." it's hushed, but entirely dismissive. Grian’s eyes roam across Scar's face, returning the favour of lingering at the sight of his lips, taking in the curvature of them, remembering how soft and warm they feel pressed against his skin.

Scar grins when Grian doesn’t take the out, so he doesn’t waste any time capturing those lips from him, desperate and yearning. His fingertips dig into the soft skin directly next to his neck, pulling Grian in as close as he can.

Grian leans in easily, without resistance, meeting Scar back. His earwings fall completely away from his face, his eyes closing. His own hands find their spots on the sides of Scar's face.

Without breaking the kiss, Scar grabs at the sweater and places it next to them and the fire, not necessarily with the idea to keep it warm, but simply so there’s nothing in their way— Scar likes it when their skin brushes together. It’s vulnerable and exciting all at once, something satisfying about baring yourself for someone in a world that would normally punish such foolishness. 

His hands are back on Grian in an instant, and he closes his eyes as he traces over more of that skin, exploring and teasing all the same.

Entranced, Grian hums against Scar's lips. He shifts, tracing kisses from the corner of his mouth down across his cheek and jaw, until he finds his spot right under Scar's ear. One of his hands slides back, fingers dragging over the back of Scar's neck until they reach his hairline and dip in. 

It's tantalising, to be this vulnerable and open. To have his skin, soft and defenceless, right under Scar's fingertips to map and do whatever he pleases with. To trust Scar fully, boundlessly.

He doesn't want to stop.

"Scar." He breathes his name right there, on that sensitive patch of skin that he so adores. Right under Scar’s ear.

Intimacy wraps around them, tiny step by a tiny step and then suddenly all at once. 

They give in, drunkenly following its lead, forgetting all about the world that wants to relentlessly hunt them down, take apart their bodies for nothing more than bloodied trophies that will gather dust. 

Instead, they take each other apart in a completely different way. Entranced by their closeness, their skin heated, they familiarise themselves with a whole new vocal range of sounds that draw out of their throats, exploring what they have to offer. Giving and taking and unravelling.

Somewhere amidst it all, early on in this game they’ve invented for each other, Scar runs into the wall of impulsiveness that buzzes underneath his skin, begging for more. Because Grian is a daring menace, insinuating Scar should put him in his place if he doesn’t like his pesky retaliations. Telling him to do something about it if he finds it unfair, while his wings lift, half-unfolding. 

It’s a gesture made on instinct of Grian’s dazed mind, coaxing him to put his feathers on display in a situation where he feels completely safe and equally completely besides himself. The violet hue, freshly cleaned, dances with various shades in the firelight.

Scar’s eyes are instantly drawn in by the lifting feathers framing Grian, firelight dancing across Grian's skin and wings alike— Scar is so doomed. He feels entranced, so entangled by the myriad of sensations and desires that he almost doesn’t register how his fingers gravitate to the feathers. 

He stops himself quickly, breathing out a wisp of blue, and refocuses on a patch of freckles that spread across Grian’s chest as he processes what he almost did on instinct alone.

He wanted to touch. He wanted to touch so badly. He hasn’t seen Grian’s wings shine so brightly in months, or seen him bare the undersides like that to him ever before. He’s not sure what that means in bird body language, but he was almost certain it was an invitation.

But he would never forgive himself if he messed this moment up.

If he messed that up again. 

(It’s not fair that he can’t unravel Grian the same way Grian can with a nip to his sensitive vex ears. Scar wants to hear what kind of sounds Grian would make if he raked his fingers through his wings. Would it feel as good as Grian’s hands do in his hair? Better?)

Scar shudders, expelling those thoughts before he entirely spirals. The treacherous hand finds its way to Grian’s chest, tracing a pattern into those newly discovered freckles. His eyes flick back up, meeting Grian’s with a complicated expression— it’s one of slight conflict, immense adoration, but more than anything, intense desire. 

“…careful what you wish for there, G,” he says, restrained.

Grian hums, shuddering slightly under the touch of Scar's fingertips mapping out patterns on his skin. A purr-like coo makes it out of his throat, and his wings lift the littlest bit again, positioning themselves so perfectly within reach. 

His head is muddled, thoughts dragged through velvet that so softly covers up rationality and leaves behind something gently ravaging, able to pull the string and let him unknot into a puddle. But even through that, he is able to catch that torn expression Scar has, something not quite right in his eyes, the words almost a warning.

He can't decipher it.

He leans away; his wings stay where they are, half curled around them, a brillaintly violet feathery offering. His hips don't move either; it's just his upper back, making his spine arch. (He wants Scar's claws to rake over that curve—) He's watching Scar carefully, even though the firelight continues dancing across his dark irises in endless, unspooling want. 

"If it's unfair," he says, voice low, quiet, a purring string for Scar to follow. (He's always been good at pressing buttons. At not knowing limits. At trying and testing and teasing.) "Then do something about it," he suggests, because he doesn't know why Scar is looking so horribly conflicted, and he doesn't want this to be unfair; it should be mutual, and he's welcoming Scar to take, to even out the playing field. (He'd even let him tip the scales completely, if that's what Scar wants.) 

Scar does drag his other hand up that curve Grian’s making for him, although with no claws involved. He feels the dip in Grian’s back, that divot where he can rake his fingers over his spine. 

Another breath, another wisp of blue smoke. 

Scar’s claws emerge and he has to actively pull his fingers up to avoid scratching. 

It’s not fair because while Grian can lean into his instincts, use them as a familiar crutch, a display of trust and warmth— Scar’s not nearly so fortunate. Letting his vex urges surface would mean violence and danger and taking and— god Scar wants to take. 

And Grian is egging him on. His fingers twitch with want, tapping their pointed nails against soft, bare skin. If only Grian knew what he was asking for right now…

Scar’s hopelessly pulled along by that alluring string, that low purr that escapes from Grian’s throat. He thinks, dazedly, that maybe Grian does know. 

Especially since the drag of Scar's fingers—that moment of them shifting into claws—makes Grian arch more. Not away from it, but into it, encouraging, needy.

He knows what Scar is. He knows he's made of sharp things, claws that can tear and teeth that can bite.

He doesn't care.

He wants Scar, and he wants all of him, and—

His thoughts are slipping from him, dazed and lost in some deep, raw want that pulls him under. 

“Always a fan of the resistance, huh?” Scar’s tone is rough, not unlike a low, warning growl. 

Grian can’t help but grin, ever so cheeky, mayhem running wild in his veins. Scar was always the first one to witness this part of Grian. Whenever there's a spark of mischief, Grian feels drawn to him, wants him to see it, to catch on fire together with him.

And maybe Scar is. Catching on fire together with Grian. Because the next thing Grian knows, he's pushed back, he's pushed down, and—

He's a fan of resistance, but he gives to this so willingly. His eyes never leave Scar's as he lets Scar's hands dictate the way gravity shifts around him. His thighs remain wrapped around Scar even as his back lowers, wings spreading across the ground. (He spares one mindful thought to shift his wing to avoid the campfire. The feathers flutter, instead, near Scar's skin, wing curved upwards, almost brushing his shoulder.) 

He lays down, and he wonders, does this make it fair?

Or is there more?

He looks up at Scar, his heart wild in his chest but expression calm and endlessly fond. Waiting for the next step. Licking his parted lips, waiting to see what happens, wordlessly inviting Scar to do more. 

Scar’s eyes dart from the wing that curves around them back to Grian’s face when he sees Grian’s tongue slide over his lips. Shamelessly, he finds himself mirroring the motion, green gaze hungry.

"It felt good, you know," Grian murmurs, and it's the quietest thing. (He means the claws. The growls. The way Scar pushes and skirts taking more.) "It all does."

Grian’s words scream at Scar to let go, to let loose and see what it is exactly that he wants so desperately from Grian right now. 

Although he’s pretty sure he knows. 

He plants one hand firmly beside Grian’s head, using it to hold his weight, then uses the other to cup Grian's chin, two claws tilting his head while the others graze across his throat. 

Scar leans in closer, ghosting their lips together. “Still good?” he asks, though his voice seems so far away, like he’s floating astray as his resolve grows ever thinner. Instead of kissing him, Scar ducks down lower, pressing his lips just above Grian’s collarbone, kissing roughly enough to threaten a bruise.

The way Grian succumbs to Scar's touch is so simple. Through all the resistance in his soul, none is reserved for Scar right now; he's surrendered, a willing participant in the fate Scar strings up around them like a sticky, inescapable spiderweb. Grian's baring his neck, not shying from the claws; the most he does is let out a shaky breath, a tingle of promising excitement shooting through him like fireworks. 

He feels lightheaded in the best of ways.

"Good," he confirms, more a coo than a word, but the fraying string of vowels still makes sense.

It’s a dangerous game they’re playing, and they’re both aware of it. And they’re both still choosing to continue hurtling down this path.

The rein Scar has on his vex side demanding he takes more slackens, falls out of his grip at Grian’s goading tug. He lets out a low hum against Grian’s throat before slacking his jaw and biting. His fangs hook into the skin above his collarbone, threatening to break skin, but not quite yet. No blue magic escapes Scar’s mouth this time, only hot and heavy breath in between roughly teething at Grian’s soft skin, reeling at the feeling of blood coursing so close to his fangs. Instead the haze trickles across his irises, eyes flickering blue as he indulges instead of resists.

Grian's head is quickly becoming a mess, but it's a mess in the best of  ways. There's not a smidge of fear under his skin, and oh, isn't that something. It's entirely replaced by craving, by this submissive need to push Scar over the edge and take everything Scar gives him— and, equally, let Scar take everything he wants. 

Intoxicatingly vulnerable, Grian offers no defences, leaving himself wide open, tempting Scar to continue. The pain sparks, but it translates to pleasure; it says good good good, it makes Grian want to press closer to Scar, it makes him want to keep his neck bared, it makes him want to sink his own, dull fingernails into Scar's skin just to let him know that this feels wonderful.

A dizzying thought hits Grian, a hazy wondering if Scar knows Grian is giving him everything, right now. All of himself. Every little bit. He's putting himself completely at Scar's mercy. 

But maybe Scar knows.

Maybe he knows, because when Scar lifts up, looming over Grian, what he chooses to say is mine.

The word reverberates through Grian, shakes something at his core, but it feels warm. It feels tingly and like a precipice, but one he wants to fall over.

Breathless and defenceless, he chirps in affirmation, before he vocalises it in a hoarse half-whisper, and despite the pleased haze that coats every letter, something in his tone is almost daring: "Yours."

Scar loves that little chirp — he loves the confirmation, however daring it may be posed. In fact, he likes that particular detail a lot, because he's happy to oblige.

His fingers trail across the curves and freckles, exploring again now that he can shamelessly stare and watch for Grian's reaction. He meets Grian's gaze, vision still somewhat foggy, and he realizes he needs to say something now before he's too far gone to resist. Because he's slowly losing himself to the boundless desire to consume, whatever that may entail, and his skin is practically sizzling and singing every spot where feathers overlap…

Grian meets Scar's gaze back, equally dazed and indescribably present; a scalding, endless pool of emotions reflected in his eyes, open yet unreadable. He makes soft noises at Scar's touch over the tender skin, fingernails lightly dragging against Scar's back in response, but none of him is running away from this.

He's staying put, an obedient little prey, ready to be consumed.

"Grian," Scar forces out, leaning back in so his breath is felt over Grian’s cheek.

Grian's breath hitches instantly in response, eyes falling shut. His name sounds so sweet yet strained on Scar's lips, and he wants to take it from him, to unshackle those restraints around it.

But Scar's leaning over his cheek, not his lips, and Grian is nothing but obliging, baring his skin, whichever part of it Scar happens to desire.

"Scar," he returns in a hoarse whine, the need to call him back scalding hot in his veins. 

"You're—" Scar’s voice cracks, but it's different than before. It's like he's interrupted by a needy growl, teeth bared. But Scar recollects himself, eyes still blazing, alight with wild magic and yearning. "You're toeing a dangerous line here, y’know..." He's trying to be delicate about it, merely allude to the burst of primal emotion he's fighting to control. "... toying with a vex." He says it like it could just be a joke, a simple tease, but he's so entirely serious about it.

Ah.

There it is.

Grian suddenly understands all the complexity swirling through Scar's expression.

And he takes it without flinching. He hums, bringing one hand up, to brush through Scar's hair, fingertips reaching to the back of Scar's ear, teasing lightly. A featherlight touch.

"I know." 

It's so simple to admit.

His lips are slightly curved. A miniscule grin, something knowing, tender, welcoming.

He cranes his neck, leans in, steals a quick kiss.

"I know, Scar." 

And he's still right here. Still so willing. Still absolutely surrendered. One wing draped over Scar, the rest of him pliantly underneath him, neck tilting to regain its bared position, not a shred of survival instinct left on display.

Scar still swallows hard, nerves alight. He's certain his desire is practically a tangible thing now, magic thrumming across his skin and driving him crazy. 

"If you—" he starts, hoarse, still so very strained, speaking through his teeth as they involuntarily press tightly together. With a shaky breath, he admits it, timid, but determined to be entirely transparent by just how much his instincts are running wild: "I'm gonna want to touch them— you, your wings—" He wants it to be clear it's only because it's a part of Grian that he wants this, and he prays that's coming across, but words are so difficult to form in his dizzying haze. "... so if you don't want that, you need to tell me now."

Before I can't control myself, goes unsaid.

The conflict is so clear now, the way Scar is trying to hold back, for Grian, always for Grian.

Grian thinks maybe he wants Scar to let go. 

Thrill runs across his spine, delving into downy feathers that coat his back, as Scar says the word wings. It's not often Grian hears it on his tongue, with Scar always carefully skirting around it. And what would at other times make him uneasy, now makes Grian perk up—some bird instinct that's taking deep root in him, tangling into myriad of desires. 

Because, yes. Wings. Wings.

The feathers draped over Scar's bare skin move lightly, brushing against him. repositioning. Not leaving that point of contact. Not shying away.

The possibility looms in Grian's mind, something set ablaze at a deep dark precipice, and as he swallows thickly, all he can think of is: want.

Scar needs an answer, and Grian thinks maybe he can give him some. Maybe he can— Maybe they can—

He licks his lips and his fingers tenderly brush through the hair behind Scar's ear, trying to soothe him into this. "I can't promise it'll be okay..." he starts. And it's true. He can't. He's aware he's riddled with countless barely-buried triggers right under his skin (under his feathers—), all of it linked to a horrible terror, always just half a step from dreadfully raw, spiralling panic. But this, this feels different. This feels like maybe he could be something else, too. Like it doesn't have to be that.

He feels it, that glowing, intense desire to give himself over to Scar fully. A prey to a predator, shameless, fearless, unabashed. Untamed, both of them. Wild. 

He tilts his head. Strands of hair shining with shades of gold in the firelight shift, fall across his forehead and out of the way, soft and clean, thanks to Scar's careful, loving hands. 

The pause is there, hovering.

Grian is going to break it.

"But... Scar."

He lifts himself up, reaching for Scar; his hand tugs lightly at Scar's hair to aid him in his movement; his wing presses against Scar's back, too, helping Grian reach Scar's lips. He presses a tender kiss there, affectionate and pleading, and it tips into unbridled craving as he finishes with a flick of tongue and a gentle bite of his teeth.

"Make the danger feel good," he whispers, a half-purr half-growl tucked against the corner of Scar's mouth, breath hovering over the bitten spot on Scar's lip. 

And then Grian's hand falls away from Scar's hair. All of him falls away, as he lets himself lie back down, his gaze flickering with warmth and desire in the hot, glowing light of the firelight. He's putting himself here willingly, underneath Scar, defenceless, skin bared, chest lifting up with breaths as his heart hammers against his ribs.

"And then you can touch," he finishes hoarsely, so very quietly. Soft and inviting, equally as hopeful as it's needy, his eyes never leaving Scar's.

And it's still so very different, a craving driving him insane—he wanted Scar's claws on his feathers not too long ago, but that was for destruction, and this— this isn't that. This is something completely different, miles away from whatever that spiral from before was; something that leaves Grian's throat dry, warmth pooling in the pit of his stomach. 

He's playing with fire, and he fully intends to let it burn him. To consume him. He yearns desperately for this kind of intimacy, for Scar, Scar, Scar, for things to be something else for a moment. (Hands in his feathers and teeth on his skin and him amidst it all, willing, pliant, giving.)

Make the danger feel good, echoes throughout Scar's increasingly emptying mind— he's slipping further, those words are driving him wild. He blinks several times, trying to process the roundabout permission he's been granted, the chance to try if only he can fulfill the promise of pleasure amidst danger. He hopes to clear his vision, lift the haze for a moment to provide a coherent response, but each blink only serves to hide the swirl of vibrant blue that dances across his eyes, glowing brighter each time he opens them.

Grian watches, patient and silent, lips parted in invitation, as Scar processes what he's just said. He sees the brightness of his eyes, the blue wisps that dance around. He knows how fraying and thin Scar's self control is.

He wants it to snap.

Scar opens his mouth, but no words come out, just a needy, shaken huff before he's leaning down and devouring, barely even a kiss, more of an open drag of teeth that's pressed into Grian's mouth, nonsensical and demanding.

There are claws and fangs and a bright blue fog swirling around the both of them, fighting against the vibrance of the firelight and winning.

Despite the initial apprehension, it’s a wonder to Scar how he ever doubted himself, because of course he wouldn’t irreparably hurt Grian— protecting him is as ingrained in his instincts as anything else. It’s a spiral of both sides of his vex urges— to please and to devour— a dizzying mesh, a thrilling fusion of desires. 

They let themselves slip into this. Into controlled violence and hovering threats, into claws and fangs and blood, into nails dug into skin and bodies pressed close. Into danger that feels mindbogglingly good, stripping them of sanity as they keep, all too willingly, sinking deeper and deeper.

(Listen they’re little freaks they definitely should’ve negotiated a safe word before this all went down.) 

"Mmm." Grian groans, a drawn out sound. There’s a fresh bite wound at the side of his neck that throbs, overcome with sensations as the tender, broken skin meets air and Scar's mouth, the fresh, warm blood smeared around in the process. 

Deliriously, he tips his head to the side, eyes closed and hands trembling, giving that whole side of his throat to Scar. (He'd give him anything now. Anything.) 

Scar grins, teeth bared and lips slightly smeared with blood, when Grian cranes his neck even more, allowing for even further abuse. He presses in close again, kissing the spot using his wicked little smile. "You'd really give in so easily?" he murmurs against the bruised skin, tone as crackly as it is velvety, a contradictory blend. His words are playful, but his voice drops as he adds, pensive: "... only for me I'd hope."

There's a small spur at the words, a reminder that Grian's soul should be made of resisting, stitched through with endless, mischievous fights. And yet it leads nowhere, a dead end against Scar's breath at his throat, the velvety rumble of his voice. 

Grian whines, nonsensically, fingers weakly pawing at Scar's back without any real intention to sink in for now. His wing brushes over Scar again, a restless little motion of soft feathers, vulnerable prize caressing a vicious predator.

"For you," he echoes on a whine, barely remembering how to speak. And then he adds, laying himself bare and pliant, stripping all the defences and pressing control solely into Scar's palms (into his claws, into his teeth—): "Anything for you."

Scar practically keens at the admission, the surrender and for a second his voice is incredibly lucid as he lets out a quiet and almost incredulous, "gosh," words interlaced with a small chuckle. 

The chuckle anchors all of Grian's attention for a searing moment, a different kind of delight rushing wildly through him, curving his lips heedlessly into a triumphant smile. Knowing he's making Scar feel things tastes like victory, like a reward in itself, and he wants to gloat, taking it in, before he throws himself off the precipice and gives Scar more of himself, to exacerbate that, to make Scar tip into this  fall with him.

There's a more gentle, fond and intrigued touch down one of Grian's sides, a little less claw as Scar drags down his bare chest, but the tether snaps again as Scar licks over his lips, still hungry for more. The touch grows more purposeful and intense as he maps out his prey, testing the skin, seeking something. 

He spots whatever it is in the center of Grian's chest, the dip of his ribcage, something vulnerable and alive as he feels the rush of blood and a battered heartbeat under his fingertips. His claws tap there eagerly as his grin once again grows toothy and wild, presenting his expression to Grian and drinking in the sight of his own.

Grian shudders under the touch Scar traces across his chest, something soft and exploratory. Grian can feel his breath stutter against those fingertips, wonders how Scar feels about that; but his answer is right here, as his gaze meets Scar's at the attention-calling tap of his fingers. 

Breathlessly, Grian takes in Scar's grin, and oh, he's in trouble. His heart beats wildly against his ribs, somewhere under Scar's claws, as his eyes hang on Scar. Grian's irises are glowing with reflected blue, gaze as intense as it is hazed, vulnerability fighting with desire. His neck still throbs. The rush of urgent craving is ceaseless, drumming through his veins. 

With a pang of ache that travels all the way down to pool below his stomach, Grian leans up, not minding that there are claws in the way on his chest, reaching to press the smallest brush of his lips against Scar in an almost-kiss, reverent puff of breath tingling in its wake.

"Yours," he murmurs, pushing Scar on.

Scar has to reel in his claws so as not to break skin when Grian moves— that's his job to do— and he purrs lowly against Grian's lips, smile turning devilish when Grian's speaks, the word music to his happily-flicking ears. 

As pleased as he is by the gesture, he pushes Grian right back down where he belongs. 

With a tantalising, toothy smile Grian obeys without struggle, cooing in encouragement, a praise, an affirmation that Scar's doing what he should here.

There's a searing awareness of their roles tearing a path through him—something about Scar's ability to tear him apart at the slightest whim; something about his own helplessness; something about how he's essentially pinned down. The flush of dizzying, quivery pleasure he feels at the thought is disintegrating all of his rationality, rendering him into an all too willing prisoner of any and all of Scar's cravings.

Scar’s claws drag down Grian’s chest, enough to mark but not to break skin. He's toying with the idea, letting the thought of drawing blood dance across his mind, set something ablaze in his eyes. (But he shouldn't— not here— not too much…)

Grian shudders; his rapid breaths tremble right underneath all that sharpness, his fluttering heartbeat rabbity beyond a cage of ribs that suddenly feel all too brittle, paper-thin, a protection that means nothing if Scar decides he doesn't want it there.

And still, Grian pulls up no protections.

He’s a willing participant in this bloody abuse, letting Scar claw and bite, lost to the deliriousness of the sensations it brings. Like sea dragging him under, beckoning him to let it happen. 

And at some point down the line, soft feathers of Grian’s earwing brush across the back of Scar's hand that’s cupping his face. Grian wants him to know how much he's at his mercy, and how much he wants to be at his mercy.

Scar extends his fingers, no longer curling around Grian's cheeks, now experimentally carding through the feathers of the earwing that's been offered. He almost doesn't consciously register his decision to do so, he just feels something soft and knows he wants to touch, to claim, to pull, but no— No, he won’t. 

He is not going to harm Grian. Not like that.

He has other ways of claiming him after all. 

And while Scar might only be dazedly, barely aware of the shift and touch of his hand, it shoots across Grian's senses—the fingers burrowing into the soft feathers of his earwings.

It's got nothing with a conscious decision; Grian’s body is controlled by a nonsense of instincts, and they dictate him to go limp, drawing a low, soft sound of out him. His earwing twitches, at first away, then towards the touch, giving itself over just like the rest of him.

Scar feels the moment the earwing gives into him, and he's instantly thrilled, sliding the longer feathers in between his fingers and releasing a low purr. His other hand does the same, mirroring the touch on the other side. 

The earwing touches are enough to drive Grian insane, triggering something in him that's been dormant for too long, drawing out a spillage of pleading bird noises out of him. His wing that was lying sprawled across the ground lifts somewhat, curves, just to show off the feathers; they glisten with brilliant shades, reached both by blue wisps of magic and the warm glow of the campfire.

Scar shifts to more gentleness over the bruises, then reverently kisses the tips of Grian’s feathers, a soft little gesture he’s never been allowed to offer. His claws trace circles over the indents of his latest bite, and he leans to kiss and lightly suck on it, dazed from the taste of blood on his tongue.

And then he notices the wings.

The beautiful, multicolored span outlined by his own spectral glow— a breathtaking sight. Scar’s eyes dilate as they lock onto the delicate hues that are normally so hidden away. They shine, freshly-cleaned, and although perhaps the method wasn’t preferable, Scar still feels his soul catch fire with the knowledge that he was the one to wash them. He’s the reason they sparkle right now and simultaneously the reason they’re on full display. 

His eyes are wide and eager, scanning the feathers and grinning wide at the sight— his expression a mixture of ravenous and adoring. 

Almost brainlessly, Scar mutters a string of nonsensical phrases under his breath: ”mine, pretty, my pretty bird, so good, so good—“ before leaning down and properly kissing Grian, the words still slurred against their lips. 

At the string of praises and possessive words, Grian coos, equally as incoherent. His wing stretches a bit higher, delighted, feathers shining against the multicoloured glow. The muscles ache, unused to the motion, but it feels good, something in him tingling and telling him that this is right. The vulnerable underside of the wing is there, perfectly within reach, not trying to hide or tuck away, a state they haven't been able to achieve once in this world before this moment.

Grian's gaze snags at Scar's grin, at that expression that tells him Scar's treading the thought of devouring him whole. It tugs at his guts, tightens his stomach, sends his breath out of rhythm, but none of it feels bad. He revels in it, shivers and sinks into it, the feeling ultimately warm, slinking around him like a spiderweb, making him hold still, dazed and unaware of the imminent danger.

"Yours, yours, good, yes, all yours," he echoes back at Scar, words half-coos, melting into the kiss. He hums against Scar's lips, a pleased, needy little noise. His hands travel higher up Scar's back and press, tugging at him, telling him he wants him right here, over himself. 

When the kiss breaks, he follows, nipping at Scar's lips, trying to elicit something more yet again, playing into Scar's instincts in a way that seems deliberate, but is just a hazed jumble of incomprehensible cravings, something deep and richly yearning that doesn't take no for an answer. 

Grian refuses to let Scar retreat in the slightest, and it’s that utter willingness and provocation that’s keeping Scar just barely tethered to reality— because surely his prey shouldn’t be this pliant. Shouldn’t be urging him on.

Because Grian isn’t his prey, nor or his meal—

But isn’t he? 

Once again, Scar’s head spins, dizzied as the line between mate and prey becomes muddled in his vex brain. And somehow through it all comes laughter of all things because— because this started with a bath and now Grian is underneath him trilling and begging to be manhandled. It’s borderline absurd and the sheer irrationality of both their behavior right now results in a sudden, throaty chuckle emerging from Scar as he teases Grian’s lips with his teeth. 

It’s almost silly, but more than anything, it’s electrifying, thrilling, exciting. There’s blood smeared over Scar’s fingers, and yet he’s having fun. 

Scar's laughter sends a wave of warmth through Grian, so very different from the scorching heat of everything else. It's a sound he basks in, slotting it somewhere next to his wildly beating heart, treasured amidst the inferno that ravages the rest of his body. He hums quietly against it, reveling in the way the sounds merge, even as it tips into a whine at the tease of Scar's teeth on Grian's lips.

With struggling clarity, Scar continues to giggle, although it morphs into an alluring purr. “Always said no one can have ‘em—” Scar’s hands frame Grian’s face, tucking his earwings over his cheeks. “—well what if I want them?” A careful drag of claws through those tiny feathers and heavy breath over Grian’s lips. “What if I want you?”

Grian’s breath hitches, noises falling silent for a moment as Scar's claws lightly rake across his feathers, tucking the soft fluff of the earwings against Grian's cheeks. Grian's gaze holds onto his, dark and intense, and his throat bobs as he swallows emptily. 

He feels dizzy, like he's going insane. His brain bounces the sharp thought of danger against his feathers, but he's holding still for Scar, expression hot and adoring and desiring. It feels explosive, like sparks of a live wire, and he wants it, all of it, a tinge of fear crashing into safety of this being Scar, the trust at the dazed awareness that he's in good hands, and he wants those hands to be clawed and at his skin—at his feathers. 

A part of Grian’s brain that's made of pure instinct trills in happy victory, telling him this is what he wanted, that he succeeded—he showed off his feathers and his mate now wants him. It's intoxicating, a jumbled mess of agreements thrashing underneath Grian's tongue while he fights to figure out how to express any of them. 

In the end, he coos, a small whine pressed against Scar's hovering lips. His earwings twitch, sending a spike of sensation though him as that creates a gentle drag against Scar's claws, eliciting a tiny mewl from his throat. 

And through it all, he's still here, still not running.

When he finds his voice, it's equally soft and pleading; it sounds like gentle affection and like deep craving, all at once. It's showing boundless love to the beast while tempting it to devour him. "You can have," he murmurs, low and hoarse. "You can have me." All of me.

Scar feels as if he could howl with excitement and triumph, but instead what comes out is a hushed purr, a rumbly thing pressed right up against the corner of Grian’s lips. 

“Won’t hurt,” he whispers, in spite of all the damage he’s already wrought. But even in a haze of delirious bloodlust, Scar still draws the line there. He doesn’t want to harm Grian’s wings. He has no intention of breaking those gorgeous feathers or of taking them for himself. He doesn’t need to. He has Grian, all of Grian, and all Scar wants to do is to admire his lovely possessions.

To give them the love they deserve. 

To give Grian the love he absolutely deserves.

Scar tucks a promise against the corner of Grian's lips, and Grian quietly coos back. A hushed, I know, tender and loving and trusting. 

There’s still slight hesitation in Scar’s movements, months of ingrained resistance still fighting his every motion, but Scar’s hand finally leaves Grian’s cheek and those soft, tiny feathers to embrace the real prize. Dozens of greedy hands have tried and yet Scar— fangs and claws bared— is being offered them willingly. His lips curl in satisfaction.

Grian hums quietly at Scar's hesitation, hands tracing light patterns into the skin of Scar's back. Mapping out all the scarred tissue there, the edges of which he's seen many many times, memorised, and now they unfurl under his fingertips. His to touch. His, his, his. 

He's going to be gentle with Scar's wounds, like he is with Grian's wings.

— and then his thoughts dissipate, his breath hitching shakily, as Scar's hand makes contact with his wing. A confusing onslaught of feelings rushes through him, and he both wants to look and doesn't want to see it. Some deep-rooted part of him tells him that he should be scared, that this should be dangerous, but the rest of him pushes against it, whispering soft and pliant I know, I know, I know. 

He wants Scar's hand right where it is, and more. He wants—

Claws sink in between the feathers harmlessly as Scar trails his fingers down their length, positively entranced by this allowance. There’s a soft hum of appreciation, of reassurance, and Scar’s other hand stays, just as content with raking his claws through Grian’s hair.

Grian shudders, his emotions a tangle that tips into pleasure as Scar's clawed fingers drag across the tender underside of his wings, caressing the feathers that have been untouched for months. He tips his head into Scar's other hand that's tangled in his hair, nuzzling as a spillage of coos makes it out, a nonsensical string that is very, very far from distressed. 

He takes one deep breath, that's meant to be steadying but instead quivers all the way through, and he pushes his wing into Scar's touch.

Eager to get access to every bit of what’s just been offered to him, Scar drags Grian up, settling him once again in his lap. His other hand snakes around Grian’s waist, searching for a spot he was never allowed to touch, travelling to the base of Grian’s wings, claws running over the smaller feathers. He sinks his fingers into their length, revelling the softness in contrast to all his sharp edges.

And Grian is doomed. So completely, utterly doomed.

He shudders in the best of ways, the coo that makes it past his lips vibrating with it as his back arches and wings blissfully push into the touch. The hands in his feathers are driving him crazy. He's pressing himself against Scar, a babble of purring, whiny, defenceless bird noises spilling out of him unbidden, any semblance of self control left.

Neither of them wants to stop here.

And so they don’t. 

[there’s somehow 10k more rp words to this debauchery. just use your imagination we now fade to black <33]

[confessionsofa-roleplayer]

Everyone says communication is key, and while I do agree I find that communicating has gotten me in the most trouble. Anytime I have come to someone to let them know I am not feeling the direction of our rps, or that I want a break from writing with them, or that I feel overwhelmed, or when I outright tell them I would like to softblock because I don't think we should interact anymore, people have meltdowns at me. They choose these moments to air out any jealousness they felt towards people I write with, and end up blocking me and making vagueposts about me to our mutuals. I have even faced an incident where an ex rp partner of mine started telling my rp partners "they will just ditch you or replace you with someone else, they do this all the time". Thankfully my rp partners paid no mind to this, and if anything it made that ex partner look bad, but you know that if something gets said enough times in a community, someone is bound to believe it :( Obviously I know some people are going to say not everyone does this, and people may even comment and say they wish people were this transparent with them when the rp interactions don't work out, but you guys do at least understand how scary and anxiety inducing it is to have this happen a lot right? I used to think I was doing people a courtesy by being honest, and now I dread it because I don't want to hurt someone's feelings all the time. I used to think rp wasn't so serious but now I am learning people take these things very personally and when I am open about needing breaks and such it hurts them deeply and I feel awful about it. I feel like there is a lot on my shoulders when I decide to come out to people. I wish I knew the way to say it without hurting their feelings but no matter how delicately I do it or try to reassure them there's nothing wrong with them, their feelings naturally still takes a massive hit.

[daily-rcp-poli]

☆ using a new tag to seperate rps! #Poli's theater. Basically nicked it from the channel. Anyway, enjoy!

‘’Poli, I seriously can’t keep up!’’ Exclaimed the inventor with an exhausted huff, just barely trailing behind the jogging officer on their morning run. Something Poli insisted on keeping Jin’s mind of inventions for once. A nice run on the early glow is pleasant for him, but not for everyone else..

‘’No way, josé!’’ Replied Poli, turning around towards the panting girl. Still running in place. ‘’Remember what Amber said? We should at least get a little stretching if you want to keep drinking coffee everyday.���’ A sly smirk pulled on his lips, about to turn around before Jin jumped on him. ‘’Wh– Hey!! Jin!!--’’

‘’You better take that back, Poli!’’ She laughs while playfully patting onto his siren. The officer spinned around, trying to wean her off him. Despite his protests, he laughed along.

It was nice. Messing around in the light of the sunset is what Poli always wished for.

Peace..

Mmn.. Grudgingly awakes the officer. A piercing headache, that's a miragine if he's ever seen one. He brought his hand to his head to soothe it. --Hand? The leader averts his eyes to his hands. Since when did he transform? He could have swore his tires were on solid ground just a minute ago.

That doesn't matter. His memories be as fog now, but the athmosphere sure isn't something he'd exactly wake up to. Dirty, stained walls of what probably belonged to a basement.

Jin.. The actor had to find the musican, fast.

Poli tries to straighten himself with the support of the wall next to him. Although it challenged great difficulty, he pushed through the seemingly endless room.

Gotta get out..

@daily-jin-madebygenius