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s-4pphics · 3 months ago

Text

… are we rolling?

SYNOPSIS: screwing your best friend on live isn’t that strange… right? … RIGHT?

WORD COUNT: 5.3K

WARNINGS: SMUT — MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS/MEN WILL BE BLOCKED, switch/sub!ellie, switch/dom!reader, brief mentions of misogyny in porn?, ellie bottoms n is slightly bratty in this, readers a service top, stoplight system, fingering, eating pussy, making out, readers dirty mouth[to be expounded, she’s gross], orgasm denial/ruined orgasm, mentions of weed but none used, mentions of sex on camera(not performed,,, yet), mentions of voyeurism, brief mention of exhibitionism, brief mentions of bondage, slight dumbification, laughtercare :)

A/N: i reread click and realized i need more cam star ellie. this is for ME. i wrote this for ME. i needed THIS. another result of ovulation. i imagined jackson!ellie while writing this but imagine any ellie you’d like. sigh... love yall <3

wait i came back…. guys i think i love writing again. i love editing again. i love rewriting again. hurray/hooray

everybody clap for aestra for proofreading for my drafts :) LUV YA DEAR @edenspoem

“Look here.”

“I am.”

“Not at my hand, honey. Look here. The camera’s here.” Your fingers twinkle in front of the lens.

Yes, the camera’s there, but so are your stone-clad, delicate fingers, wrapped graciously around your sloppily stickered tripod where your overtly fancy digital camera sits neat and determined on top.

Ellie’s trapped in delirium. A lost tango of abiding your very thorough instruction while waltzing the line of entrancement. She hasn’t retained much in the past five minutes because frankly, how could she? The same fingers she’s secretly admired for the better part of 5 years are about to submerge inside her and lead with nothing but carnal instinct. Who wouldn’t go mad? She surely has, and your mattress isn’t even a mess yet.

The invitation of her star-fishing had been bright and fruitful on your part. Since the birth of your friendship, Ellie has grown incredibly reliant on your clarity. She’s never met a person as honest and forward — but not abrasive — as you are; the reins of the relationship remain stable under your control, never too wild or incessant to be yanked, and much to her appreciation, lack of structure turns you to panic just as it does her. She gains a sense of tranquility from your bluntness, and that day in your car was just that. Blunt.

She was naive at the time: to accept a time bomb disguised as an overtly expensive black coffee, placed gently into your cup holder while Ellie clapped her hands together like a seal. It’s always the same steady routine: coffee and shittalking, the brunette’s favorite pastime.

If she knew her blood would practically write love letters all over your car windows, she may have never accepted your invite.

“Would asking to fuck you stupid be too forward?”

Asked with a nothing tone, simplicity and the brightest eyes. Her soul was snatched clean from its confinement with your manicured claws, palms stained with the maroon of her bleeding heart. She assumed you were pulling her leg for her own sanity, but you’ve never been a puller, at least not during conversations that highlight lengthy forms of human intimacy, but damn, no one had ever asked to bend her over in broad daylight ever. Heat radiated off her and onto you like overworked machinery.

“I don’t think so?” was her stuttered response, but it hadn’t been enough to convince you. If you were to despise one thing, it’d be uncertainty, and that lost tremor was nearly enough to turn you the other direction. Nearly. Almost.

How did someone like Ellie, intimidated, clueless— dangerously obsessed— convince? Simple as ever — it was a thoughtful proposal. Straightforward. Not a leg pulled, and in that moment, she knew she garnered your approval. Look where she ended up a few days later.

“Wanna get in the back… or?”

Reckless? Yes—but a girl with wants doesn’t care about her mutilated surroundings. Fulfilling her desire: that’s what Ellie needed right then and there, on the seat in the middle of the parking lot of the shopping center. Consider it a repayment for that six dollar cup of nitroglycerin.

You giggled a sound so tender despite the twistedness of your tongue. Had you finally given Ellie the upper hand? You had to, even if it would be the last time you ever allowed her to lead. She assumed your laughter to be a sign of surrender—finally, she had thought, right as her jacket slid off her shoulders to dangle from your passengers side.

You have an ability to stun with your smile—teeth stained red with every swipe of your tongue on dirtied glass. Ellie fell victim to your attacks all over again, another bomb unleashed, from your mouth this time.

“Would asking to fuck on live be too forward?”

Right at that very second, the clouds of the heavens split down the center to embrace her hollow, dark spirit—to protect her from the lecher of a seductress. The angels didn’t dare touch you to bring along: they sense the trap in your softness. There’s so much filth that resides underneath your colorful aura. She took that secret to the sky: how equally sick she was, your exact match.

You had put heavy emphasis on live. Live as in livestream. Live Stream as in real people watching while you make a mess of her despite having always had, but that would teter into a space neither of you have touched in your friendship. She always hoped there was something there, a fringe of deeper devotion, even if meek; all those times where you caused goosebumps to bloom all over her with your filthy whispers, all the times you’ve called her gorgeous, all the times your fingers travelled, dipped, stayed just a bit too long on her skin. They had to have meant something, and your proposal was proof of it, in her mind at least.

Doing porn had never crossed Ellie’s mind. Viewing was barely satisfactory on its own—an occasional indulgence here and there when she’s desperate and her imagination’s a bore, she’d watch, cum, and fall asleep slightly less antsy. It was a raunchy tool for satisfaction and nothing more.

Until it wasn't.

Until she scrolled a tad too deep on Twitter after hours—a fuzzy video that lasted no more than 12 seconds, but it mutilated her brain so viciously, and it wasn’t due to the saliva-coated fingers circling around a swollen areola before showcasing sharp fangs.

No. It was the nightstand in the background, barely in focus; it’s shocking how easily she recognized it. The same nightstand with a knife scratch in the left corner of the top drawer. The one sloppily painted over with neon yellow. The one that holds a floral-patterned lamp that she remembered turning off on countless occasions.

Your nightstand. Your tits, your saliva, your fingers. You you you and yours.

A part of Ellie died that night, exactly a year ago. The innocent part. The strictly-friends part. The stress-filled day ended with her rubbed completely raw and swollen and irrevocably high off you: rewatching that same 12 seconds over and over before progressing to minutes long ones of you screwing yourself silly—buried deep at the bottom of your page, then the 15 minute long ones that hid behind a paywall where you got fucked or fucked in positions she didn’t think were possible—even made a burner account to unabashedly like and bookmark every moment of your partners seemingly entranced by you, so much so that she had to comment under an alias—her appreciation for cumming so hard. The relishment hadn’t lasted long because men—the bane of her existence(and yours, every pest now deleted), can never shut the fuck up. Comment after comment: Sexy, Bet you can take massive loads like nothing, I can make you straight again. Ellie’s unsure if she can bring herself to kill, but if she could without a trace… oh, if she could.

Unfortunately, telling predatory men to kill themselves only beckoned her karma. Her naughty secret had a three-day lifespan. What luck she has.

Who accidently falls asleep to Twitter porn inside of said porn star’s house, on said pornstar’s couch?

She was awoken by warmth from a blanket she hadn’t retrieved herself, a fully charged device that she knew she hadn’t plugged in, and breakfast. A good and hefty breakfast for a good and hefty conversation.

Safe to say you and Ellie’s relationship became helluva lot more personal that morning.

Personal enough for you to describe in detail the adrenaline you feel when people(not men, people) get off to you, your body. Personal enough to show her videos that may never reach the internet due to their intimacy. Personal enough to ask her to hold the camera while you pose unclothed—that took a bit more time, but it happened. So, so personal.

Not personal enough to turn her away from fucking you, though. She spent too many late evenings stalking that account—absorbing each line and curve of your stature in lingerie or naked or strapped up, memorizing where and what sensations set you ablaze, rewinding the small seconds right before euphoria consumed you whole. All that studying had come full circle, all to be tested at that moment. Her daydreaming had flipped on her. Tongue in cheek—she didn’t bother hiding her enthusiasm.

“I don’t think so.”

“I want you to know this is the craziest thing I’ve ever done.” Ellie calls from your mattress, jeans already kicked off to the side of your room.

“Having second thoughts?”

Not a scrimmage of disappointment in your tone—eyes soft with alertness and an overcast of concern.

“No… just talking out loud.”

“There’s no wrong in wanting to back out. This is… it's a bit weird.”

Live Streaming is weird. That’s probably the scariest part about all of this—not the risk of ending a friendship that Ellie has grown especially fond of, not the potential change in perspective of her from your end, but the perception from strangers. What if she hiccups or makes a weird noise or reacts in a way that’s not… attractive to the masses? What if they don’t like her? You’re the star after all. They pay decent amounts to see you in your sensual glory—Ellie simply doesn’t possess that eloquence this sort of indulgence requires.

“Or we can opt outta streaming altogether if it’s bothering you. We can just… you know, build up to it.” The shy gesture towards your mattress gets Ellie swooning. Her tone drops an octave, playfulness cranked higher to soothe her nerves. “Are you suggesting that I become a regular?”

“Would you like to become a regular?”

“Oh? There's other clientele?” Ellie snickers off the slight—quite slight agitation that sparks within her at the suggestion of others. Unreasonable and annoying, but she can’t help it. “I’ll know for sure after this, no?”

“I suppose.” You murmur with curved lips, scanning your camera with what Ellie can read as hesitance.

“What’s the matter?”

“I’m thinking.”

“About?”

“I can’t help but think this is a lot for you. We’ve never even kissed.”

“I beg to differ—“

You scoff, “we were high. That doesn’t count and you know it.”

“Why wouldn’t it count?”

“Ellie.” You scold gently, and her fight falters, sighing deeply when the mattress bunches around her elbows.

“So… what’s the plan?”

“I told you already. Building up to.”

Ellie hums with interest you’ve piqued. “Are we rehearsing then?”

“That’s cute. I like that. Sure, rehearsing.”

She huffs at your mocking, “come closer.”

“In what world do you think you can tell me what to do?”

Ellie’s response stays lodged in her throat from its dryness. The air shifts—her world shifts in a way that she feels upside down, her breath scattering and fingers twitching where they rest on your blanket. Heat blooms from her cheeks to her forehead at the ease in your stare.

You’re so calm. You radiate serenity on the slow journey to your dresser, your rings clattering in your jewelry holder—the same glass seashell Ellie gifted you on your birthday two years ago. It’s a familiar preparation, a ritual she’s mastered on her own, but for some foreign reason, her chest swirls with a sensation that she can’t pinpoint.

“I… um…”

“Yeah? You, um, what?” The corner of your mouth curves ever so slightly—so cunning, and suddenly, the conversation could be about anything. All efforts of indifference melt down through your mattress to drip onto hardwood. The role of your camera is long forgotten with every step your sock-covered feet take.

Her legs jerk when you finally stand between her legs, jeans tickling her skin, nearly locking you in place by your thighs but you don't falter—she’s frozen in her position, laid out in front of you with confidence on rapid declination.

“Stoplight system.” You whisper, Ellie’s response just as airy.

“What?”

“Do you know what that is?”

Sounds familiar—possibly something that you’ve mentioned in passing a few times. She hadn’t understood the context when you mentioned it during your routine one-night-stand recalls, but you were left giddy enough to talk about them until you went blue in the face.

She says no, secretly due to how good you sound, raspy and alluring. You could be talking about actual traffic laws and she’d be just as skittish and needy as she is now.

“If, for any reason, you don’t like something that I do, or say or anything — or if you just want to stop, say—“

“Red.” She comprehends, and you call her smart—just under your breath, and her legs lock on you again. Stoplight. Simple enough. Green or blue or orange or whatever. Come closer.

“And if I like it? Whatever it is you do.”

“Then tell me you do. I work better with praise.”

The room goes silent while Ellie flounders and you inspect, particularly deep and all over her; lines burning into skin with every pass of your pupils on her thighs, scarred and dotted. Your gaze flickers, dilated and fluttering with lust but upholding serenity, eyes capturing and framing every insecurity she’s developed since adolescence, lodged deep into your memory. Such scrutiny… she wishes she had the heart to despise it.

“Speaking of, what do you like? How do you touch yourself?” With causality, the tip of your index finger traces up her thigh, following the healed gash she earned after failing to hop a fence when she was fifteen. Ellie’s chest gives a tight squeeze when it curls underneath the lining of her shirt to inch it up slightly. A smile twists when you catch the colorful lining of her underwear.

“I touch myself like everyone touches themselves.”

“And how is that.”

She scoffs ludicrously. “I don’t fuckin’ know, I just do it.”

“Does it feel good when you just do it?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Interesting.” And with that, you drop to your knees and Ellie nearly faints.

“You’re tense.”

“Well, yeah—“

“Are you uncomfortable?”

“You know I’m not.”

“Then loosen up a bit. I won’t do anything crazy til next week.”

That’s the problem, isn’t it? How does Ellie tell you that she wants everything you have to offer without frightening you? Overwhelming you? Would that even be possible for you—to be alarmed by her desires? It’s hard to tell. There’s three different floggers pinned to your door for fucks sake.

Yeah… incredibly hard to tell.

Especially when your fingers hook in her waistband like you've been anticipating ripping them to shreds. You don’t pull, but rest. It’s clear in your vision when she looks up, that tranquil warning: Ellie’s last chance to bail out completely, even as you attempt to mask your smile when you catch a glimpse of her wetness.

Her lungs constrict with how deep her breath is. Her heart thrashes with her inquiry, ragged and insatiable.

“And what’s next week?”

You scoff a laugh and Ellie’s thighs twitch.

“When my paypigs finally get to watch me fuck you dumb.”

“Holy fuckin’ shit,” escapes in one exhale before she’s sucking in another gust of air.

“Yeah?”

She barely has any time to squeak her approval before her underwear is torn from her. Her thighs tense with instinct to shut them. You’re eye level with her cunt in all its drippy glory. Ellie’s never felt this form of anxiety when naked in front of anyone. She’s seen your pussy when it glistens under flash—a glorious sight. It feels wrong and misogynistic to call a pussy mediocre but in comparison, you’re beautiful and she's… decent? She’s not as smooth and doesn’t shave because what the fuck for, but she also doesn’t have to worry about people criticizing her pussy in the way they would criticize yours. Her pussy’s hers and hers only… but she’ll die if you think she’s… unattractive. She’ll jump out your window.

“Why do you look like that?”

“Like what, dude.”

“Like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Well, my labias on display, for one—“

Rebuttals die as quickly as they blossom.

The last bit of oxygen in her lungs is lost when your index and middle finger lay gently over her, stunted by your warmth when you spread her, gentle sloshes from her slick spreading as it spills from her. You’re seemingly unbothered by any of Ellie’s sudden self-judgements, and shockingly, her own brain has silenced under your gawking. She only watches your hand, uses it as grounding before her lungs stop working.

“Look at you.” You coo. “You’re real cute, baby.”

“Thanks,” barely mumbled—barely coherent. Your canines bare beneath a smile; you’re about ready to tear her to shreds.

“This is the last time I’m gonna ask you. How do you touch yourself?”

“I… just rub one out when I have time.” Her eyes flit from your face to the wall only to find more nudity across pink and faux brick. Even with erratic glances, there’s so much detail and care within each photograph: some from magazine shoots, some from polaroids you’ve captured. Some of you, some with you, and some without you — images left with only your satisfied companions, evidence of your lecher embedded permanently into their skin.

Will you leave her the same way? Capture her with such delicacy to pin to your wall?

“… That all?”

Her entire body engulfs in flames and your gentle scrutiny doesn’t help. Her shoulders bump weakly.

“I think you deserve a little bit more than that. All ‘m saying.”

You stand and wave your hand at her, ushering her further back onto your mattress. She flounders stupidly until she’s centered on your pillows and you smile. “Get this off for me.” You tug at the hem of the shirt she stole from your drawer last year. Ellie short circuits when her back arches and fingers tug at the fabric, leaving her fully unclothed—she prays you can’t hear the borderline violent pounding atop her ribcage.

She fidgets when your arms hook tight around her thighs to yank her closer, her locks dragging across your pillows and before she can even register your closeness, you kiss her. She hardly notices the noise, her noise, vibrating on your lips—guttural and strained and nasally, and she can’t stop wriggling against you, no matter the efforts of you trying to station her hips.

This kiss is nowhere reminiscent of your first one. You may not remember but Ellie does—chaste but filled with adoration and softness underneath the stars. Gentle and light that got Ellie’s chest stirring with tenderness. This isn’t like that—not when your hands move from her hips to her wrists to pin above her because she keeps pulling you where she shouldn’t. Not when you bite her lips, not when your lips suction around her tongue. Not not not not.

This kiss is real, this kiss is hungry: pronounced with fervor with every steaming swipe of tongue. Just when she’s sure you couldn’t get any closer, you manage, and Ellie burns wherever your skin touches. You’re making her a mess — you did then when you cradled her cheeks with that doting smile before pecking her mouth that night, and you still do; the proof scents your fresh sheets. How’s that for praise?

She’s conflicted between wishing you weren’t clothed and desperately needing to grind herself into your jeans. The need to imprint herself in every corner of your comforting sanctuary is enough to turn her animalistic: she tears into your hand with her nails, arches her back to grind up into your leg before you force her still. Every corner you turn, whether she’s here or not or you’re fucking someone else — no matter the ache of that knowledge, there’ll always be a memory of her presence— she was here first, and everytime she ends up under your sheets, you’ll be the first to know.

You must have the same idea because your mouth and teeth travel south with intent to bruise, down the curve of her neck, and… fuck.

You pause at her giggle, when her chin tucks slightly to the side to shield the sensitive skin. You suck your teeth at her, all smiles.

“I’m sorry, I can’t—“

Ellie cackles when you pout, “You ticklish here, too?” One wrist gets freed from your confinement before you poke a tentative finger to the other side of her neck, but the results are the same. Chin tucks and light snickers. You mask your own laughter with a kiss to her cheek. And her chin, and her nose. Until she’s giggled out.

“It’s weird as fuck, ‘m not ticklish anywhere else but there, not even on my sides.” Nerves unravel her tongue. You hum acknowledgments like you’re listening because you're sweet and care that she feels heard, all while your lips smack down to her chest.

“My sides are ticklish,” you whisper between her breasts, and she shudders, “my thighs, too.”

“Noted,” cracks reside in her timbre when your teeth sink into her skin. Her whining replaced laughter.

“What’re you takin’ notes for?”

“Gonna tickle you when you’re not looking.” She whimpers.

Ellie’s jaw slacks when you suck a nipple into your mouth. Your hands return to their residence on her waist when she jerks and her back cranes. You sound so far away when you laugh around her, “feels good there?”

“Agh, shit—“

“Does it? Tell ‘em it does.” You grit, and Ellie freezes. She can feel you smiling.

Your fingers find the cushions of her cheeks to force her head up, but she’s not looking at you. Not at the wall either. She doesn’t have to. This is a rehearsal, is it not? You're training her for the real thing: to be fully exposed on camera and not feel shame.

Her eyes meet the camera lense, and you hum around her nipple in satisfaction. She’d bet every dime that her eyes crossed and met directly in the middle. Thank God you’re distracted.

“Tell them, Ellie. How good is it?” You vibrate against her and her hips launch up into you.

“It… yeah, it’s really goo—“

You cackle into her chest and Ellie’s eyes squeeze shut. How is it possible that her body’s temperature increased another hundred degrees? Just as she garnered enough courage to talk to a theoretical audience, her voice breaks like a kid going through puberty.

But your laugh is very reminiscent of jingle bells. She can’t help but smile.

“They’re gonna love you bitch, holy fuck—“

“Shut the fuck up.” Ellie snickers, and your lips smack against her chest. She has to stop her arms from chasing you when you sit up onto your knees. One quick glimpse at her chest is enough proof that you two crossed paths. You’re all over her.

Your eyes are soft with their travels over her frame. Too much scrutiny that she’s enjoying: deflection is her only way out of it. “My nips hurt, man, fuck.”

“Sorry dollface, couldn’t help myself.”

Her knuckles pale around your blankets when your hands hook underneath her knees, slowly forcing them up where they connect to rest on her chest, and her skin bleeds its deepest shade. Her last bits of anxiety leave in one final exhale before she hooks her arms under her knees to keep them steady.

“She’s gorgeous, baby.”

Your directness makes Ellie scoff. She watches you readjust where you’re seated, ass rested on your heels with a hand on the back of her thigh.

“Watch me, ‘k?” You peer from behind her legs. Ellie can barely get a nod in before her clit gets stimulated, circled slow by your thumb.

“Don’t kick me.” You whisper sillily, and she huffs, albeit dry and breathless, but you smile brighter and her heart soars.

“How’s that, babe?”

“Good, like it.”

“Tell me what you need.” You demand softly and her body feels caressed by your tone alone.

“C — can you… do it like this?” Her middle and ring finger demonstrate before you: side to side, faster. She likes pressure—bodies on bodies, desperate hands, feeling so needed that she’s drowned by whoever she’s with. She needs that from you.

Her eyes cycle when you comply with precision—of course you’d be an expert and touch her right where she needs it, get her panting like a dog.

“Better?”

“M… mh—“

“Yeah?” You breathe when she whines, and she nods. There’s a pull already forming—more of a yank in the pit of her stomach because she’s on you; dripping onto your sheets, scenting your fingers. She’s slowly infiltrating your space in a way she’s never verbalized but always thought of and you’re allowing it, all because you want her as much as she craves you. She can hear it in your voice, feel it in your touch; you want to own her, even if it’s a mistake or it’s temporary or the damage is irreversible. Her peak is already cresting and she doesn’t even know if the five minute mark has passed.

“I feel it baby, cumming f’me already?”

Her clit twitches as if commanded. She fucking might if you don’t shut up. You shouldn’t talk like that you shouldn’t sound like that—so alluring and hot and as needy as she feels. She could cum just from your voice, she thinks. She has in the past, but this is different; every vowel is punctuated with swift massages on her cunt by the hands she practically idolizes—the ones attached to her best friend who’s responsible for her messy bed sheets and wrinkled fingertips almost every night.

You deserve applause for your efforts, so she moans encouragement; hums on about how good you feel, how sexy you are—almost slips and admits that you’re so much better than she imagined when you rub a spot too right. You’re slowly molding her into an open diary with your fingers.

But Ellie must’ve been too loud. Too wriggly, because you’re gone and standing before the edge of your bed in seconds. She almost sobs but any complaints are strangled quiet by shock when you snatch her arms away to tug her to the edge by the ankles. She chokes on a whine when you drop to your knees, lungs constricting when your mouth latches onto her clit, arms locked tight around her thighs because she can’t stay the hell still, efforts worthless. Your suctions bend her in ways she assumed to be impossible, her nails in search of grounding in your shoulder but you don’t waver when blood drips. She takes you like it with every one of your moans that rattle her from the inside out.

She’s loud but so are you. With every wail that leaves her mouth, you reply with your own like you feel what she can, but this amount of pleasure is incomparable to anything she’s ever felt. You’re working to break her apart and it’s working; she needs to suffer under you. When a finger prods at her entrance, she knows she’s a goner. The thigh that collides with the side of your head is enough confirmation that she won’t be making it past your bedroom door tonight.

“Dammit, El—“

Her leg is raised and held at the hind crease of the knee when an eager finger floods around plush and twitchy walls—on a curious search, one rested deep in her while her softness attempts to suck it dry.

“Gonna have to tie you down to my bed, huh? Keep you nice ‘n still while I wreck this cunt?”

Her brain wracks with apologies but none actually formulate; just jumbled and broken syllables that sound too much like your name and fuck and deeper.

She forgets where she is and what’s being done to her when you suddenly graze deeper, fingertip pressed right up against that raised skin that she digs for whenever she fucks herself to you. Her walls practically strangle your index when you snicker at her entranced and lovestruck expression.

“You close?”

“Yesyes fuuu—“

Tears wash down her cheeks when you pull out and her euphoric intensity is lost, only left with an ache that makes her abdomen burn. If she was in her right mind, she’d curse you to hell.

“I know, I know, stop crying. Back up a bit, baby.”

She slugs but you steady her when those thighs give a little wobble. You keep her leg bent with your hand as you rest. Ellie’s weak arms blindly search for one of your pillows to rest on so she can watch without disturbance. She doesn’t need to beg for you back inside—you’re already stretching her with an extra finger before she can blink and ecstasy takes over her vision, spots on your ceiling, gets her sobbing all over again because it’s too good.

And you’re laughing—not your normal, excited and chippy giggle that she loves with every cell of her being. This is dark and mocking like you crave her humiliation. She likes that. She loves that. She gives you that: the pleading eyes, grabby hands on your waist, attempts to shut her legs just so you can swear to mount her flat all over again.

“‘s coming, ‘s comin’ oh my fuck—“

“Give it t’ me, be good and give it, c’mon—”

“—pleasedon’tstop—“

“‘m not. You earned this, yeah? Cum for me—”

There’s 8 wonders of the world. Or 3. However the fuck many there possibly are, your fingers take up two rankings.

Ellie’s never had an orgasm that deafened her. Either her shout was loud enough to blow her eardrums out or the deep grind of your fingers reached so far that her brain now lacks some function. There’s no wave, there’s no buildup, there’s no anticipation—she just cums, thrashes underneath you, rips your sheets to shreds with her nails. Soaks your wrist til it drips down your forearm with whatever she could give and you take it all, force her through whatever she doubts she can take. Her pleasure is so aggressive it’s almost painful but she needs that. She’ll do and take anything from you if it means you'll do this for her again and again and again until her breath belongs to you.

She sobs so guttural when your fingers push past her tightly shut legs, your laughter so gleamingly cynical.

“O—okay—god, fuck, okay, baby, okay okay—“

All over again, your fingers yank her soul from her pussy when you leave. She’s completely motionless against the damp mattress, breathless whines vibrating from her throat as her muscles flex and twitch and beg for your return. She barely manages to roll over onto her side to curl into herself. Every movement is a reminder of what she’s had, what she’s lost due to emptiness. Embarrassment can’t even be felt anymore; she needs you to fuck her again, nerves be damned.

Some minutes pass with you aimlessly rubbing her leg until that same twinkle—the laughter she knows and treasures—raptures her ears. Euphoria leaves her in the same form, so hysterical it turns her red in the face.

“So…”

Ellie calms her giggling just enough to hear you say,

“Same time tomorrow?”

#cam couple au #ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie williams au #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams tlou #tlou smut #lesbian #works 𖧧࣪

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ducksido · 1 month ago

Note

Heyo love ur writing <3

Just wanted to know like, how do you think the freshmen waste time together? Like…are there cuddle piles (that Sebek and Jack begrudgingly agreed to) or just games???

Here are my thoughts + one-shot >:) and thank you 💗💗

Cuddle Pile… or Something Like It

It started with Yuu, Grim, and Ortho—Grim wants warmth, Yuu is touchy, and Ortho thinks human bonding rituals are fascinating.

Epel joins in casually; he’s used to cousin-dog-piles back home.

Deuce hesitates but melts once he's in. Ace teases, but he ends up dead center.

Sebek yells about "dignity" and "respecting Lord Malleus’s honor"… as he slowly sits on the edge with crossed arms.

Jack grumbles about “personal space” but lies down next to them to "keep an eye on Grim."

Within 10 minutes, everyone’s asleep or talking softly. It's more of a blanket tangle than a neat pile, and Sebek is the first to wake up and pretend it never happened.

Game Nights:

Card games: Uno, but with magic. Grim eats a few cards.

Deuce plays earnestly. Ace cheats with sleight of hand.

Ortho is a walking game console and sometimes links everyone into a magical VR session.

Epel and Jack have fierce Mario Kart–esque battles. Yuu and Ortho add silly commentary.

Sebek is banned from Monopoly-type games due to one (1) table-flipping incident.

“Study” Sessions (with snacks)

They gather to “study” in Ramshackle. It turns into chaos: Grim steals food, Ace distracts Deuce, Yuu gives up and braids Jack’s tail, Ortho projects silly holograms.

Epel brings homemade snacks. Sebek tries to enforce structure but caves when Jack offers him jerky.

Impromptu Talent Shows

Ace and Epel do stupid magic tricks.

Ortho sings in autotune mode.

Yuu tries to juggle.

Jack accidentally breaks something.

Grim demands a “royal performance” as the host.

“Training” that becomes goofing off

Deuce and Jack take it seriously at first.

Sebek joins shouting about drills and discipline.

But then someone tackles someone (usually Ace or Grim), and it devolves into tag, dodgeball, or wrestling.

Epel usually wins the wrestling matches with surprise tactics.

Ortho logs their antics as “physical bonding exercises.”

ONE-SHOT

The wind howled outside the crumbling walls of Ramshackle Dorm, rattling the windows like some ghost desperate for attention. Inside, the eight of you were packed into the lounge like sardines in a soup can—warm, loud, and a little chaotic.

“Why are we doing this again?” Jack muttered, arms crossed, legs tucked uncomfortably on a couch way too small for his frame.

“Because it’s freezing, we have no classes, and my paws are turning into ice cubes,” Grim replied, aggressively burrowing under a blanket like a ferret on a mission. “Also, I called dibs on Yuu’s lap.”

You patted Grim’s head absentmindedly as he nestled in, your blanket spread across both of you. “It’s called bonding, Jack. Team-building. Memory-making.”

“It’s called wasting valuable training time,” Sebek snapped, standing stiffly near the window like a military guard on patrol. “Lord Malleus would never—”

“Sebek.” Deuce raised a hand like he was asking a question in class. “Would Malleus get mad if you had fun?”

“…That is irrelevant.”

“Then sit your dramatic butt down and join the cuddle pile, dude,” Ace called from the floor where he and Epel were already wrapped in twin blankets, playing a card game with Ortho acting as the dealer/projector.

Sebek growled something about “honor” and “dignity” and “protecting the weak,” but finally relented, settling with the rigidity of a plank onto the carpet beside Jack—who scooted a little away.

“I’m not cuddling,” Jack said firmly.

“No one asked you to,” Epel muttered. “You’re like a space heater anyway. Yer the one we all sit next to.”

“Guys, guys, I added new settings to the card game,” Ortho chirped, eyes flashing. “If someone cheats, their cards explode in glitter.”

“Wait what?!” Ace yelped just as his hand erupted into shimmering blue sparkles. “Ortho!”

“Gotcha,” Ortho giggled. “System integrity breach—cheater detected.”

“Not fair!” Ace wheezed, flailing his glitter-covered hands. “I was testing it for science!”

“Sure ya were,” Epel snorted. “Hey Yuu, tell Ace he’s banned from glitter-based games.”

You lifted your hand like a royal decree. “I hereby declare Ace Trappola: King of Sparkles and forever banished from sneaky card tricks.”

Ace groaned and flopped back dramatically onto Deuce’s legs, who pushed him off half-heartedly but didn’t try too hard.

The card game faded away as the warmth from the room settled in. The couch held you, Grim, and Ortho now—Grim asleep, Ortho humming softly while scrolling through some virtual screen projected in front of him. On the floor, Epel laid across Jack’s lap, clearly having claimed the wolf beastman as a mattress. Jack grumbled but let it happen. Ace used a spare pillow to lean against Sebek, who did not move, but also did not complain.

And Deuce?

Deuce had made a nest of throw blankets and was currently snoring quietly with a note stuck to his forehead: “Do Not Disturb—Future Honor Student at Rest.”

You didn’t even know who wrote it. Possibly Grim. Possibly Ace.

The wind kept howling, but inside the dorm, the only sounds were soft breathing, occasional snorts from Grim, and Ortho’s quiet humming.

No magic problems. No overblots. No exams.

Just a lazy afternoon with your crew. A still frame in a year of chaos.

You closed your eyes, warmth blooming in your chest.

Yeah. This was nice. This was home.

#twst #twst x reader #twst wonderland #twst yuu #twst headcanons #first years #ace trappola #deuce spade #yuu #epel felmier #jack howl #sebek zigvolt #orthro shroud

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mcflymemes · 1 year ago

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SCI FI SETTINGS / LOCATIONS PROMPTS * sci-fi location based prompts for starters, adjust as necessary

spaceship-specific

[ 01 ] the cockpit of a dilapidated spaceship

[ 02 ] the bridge of a massive starship, with windows around the room giving you an incredible view of the stars

[ 03 ] beside the burning remains of a crashed ship

[ 04 ] tucked away in the bunks of a tiny spaceship

[ 05 ] outside a spaceship in the middle of space, using gravity-boots to walk safely across the ship and perform repairs or check a bad sensor

[ 06 ] a bustling ship hangar with crewmembers running about, rushing to get into their ships as the battle draws near

[ 07 ] the weapons locker onboard the ship

[ 08 ] the locker rooms onboard the ship

[ 09 ] the echo-y shuttle bay of a spaceship

[ 10 ] in the ship's command center during an intense battle

[ 11 ] the narrow passageway leading to the ship's weapon system/turrets

[ 12 ] the mess hall, crowded with crewmembers

[ 13 ] your muse's private room onboard the ship

different types of planets

[ 14 ] a dense, foggy planet with oversized plants

[ 15 ] the abandoned base on a moon with low gravity

[ 16 ] a swampy, foggy planet with frightening creatures lurking beneath the water's surface

[ 17 ] an entirely water-covered planet with structures built above the stormy seas for safety

[ 18 ] a hilly, remote planet covered in grasslands

[ 19 ] a lava-covered, mountainous planet with bubbling volcanoes

[ 20 ] a planet trapped in a constant storm, always raining and thundering

[ 21 ] the site of an abandoned colony on a once-habitable planet, now taken over by nature and destroyed by time

[ 22 ] a planet where life only exists underground, where it is impossible to survive on the surface

[ 23 ] a city planet, completely built up of buildings, nightlife, neon lights, and a seedy underbelly

assorted locations + scenarios

[ 24 ] a military base, now abandoned and controlled by a rogue ai

[ 25 ] trapped within a high security prison full of space pirates

[ 26 ] a holy temple, obscured in the mountains of a distant planet

[ 27 ] on the craggy side of a massive meteor

[ 28 ] a dangerous off-world facility rumored to house illegal experimentations

[ 29 ] a bustling, cramped cantina filled with music, drinking, and the occasional gunshot or two

[ 30 ] secretly aboard the enemy's ship, trying to remain hidden

#mcflymemes #mine #sci fi prompts #rp prompt #rp meme #rp memes #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #ask meme #ask memes #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters

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mythauragame · 6 months ago

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Development Update - December 2024

Happy New Year, everyone! We're so excited to be able to start off 2025 with our biggest news yet: we have a planned closed beta launch window of Q1 2026 for Mythaura!

Read on for a recap of 2024, more information about our closed beta period, Ryu expressions, January astrology, and Ko-fi Winter Quarter reward concepts!

2024 Year in Review

Creative

This year, the creative team worked on adding new features, introducing imaginative designs, and refining lore/worldbuilding to enrich the overall experience.

New Beasts and Expressions: All 9 beast expression bases completed for both young and adult with finalized specials for Dragons, Unicorns, Griffins, Hippogriffs, and Ryu.

Mutations, Supers and Specials: Introduced the Celestial mutation as well as new Specials Banding & Merle, and the Super Prismatic.

New Artist: Welcomed Sourdeer to the creative team.

Collaboration and Sponsorship: Sponsored several new companions from our Ko-Fi sponsors—Amaru, Inkminks, Somnowl, Torchlight Python, Belligerent Capygora, and the Fruit-Footeded Gecko.

New Colors: Revealed two eye-catching colors, Canyon (a contest winner) and Porphyry (a surprise bonus), giving players even more variety for their Beasts.

Classes and Gear: Unveiled distinct classes, each with its own themed equipment and companions, to provide deeper roleplay and strategic depth.

Items and Worldbuilding: Created a range of new items—from soulshift coins to potions, rations, and over a dozen fishable species—enriching Mythaura’s economy and interactions.

Star Signs & Astrology: Continued to elaborate on the zodiac-like system, connecting each Beast’s fate to celestial alignments.

Questing & Story Outline: Laid the groundwork for the intro quest pipeline and overarching narrative, ensuring that players’ journey unfolds with purposeful progression.

Code

This year, the development team worked diligently on refining and expanding the codebase to support new features, enhance performance, and improve gameplay experiences. A total 429,000 lines of code changed across both the backend and frontend, reflecting:

New Features: Implementation of systems like skill trees, inventory management, community forums, elite enemies, npc & quest systems, and advanced customization options for Beasts.

Optimizations and Refactoring: Significant cleanup and streamlining of backend systems, such as game state management, passive effects, damage algorithms, and map data structures, ensuring better performance and maintainability.

Map Builder: a tool that allows us to build bespoke maps

Regular updates to ensure compatibility with modern tools and frameworks.

It’s worth noting that line changes alone don’t capture the complexity of programming work. For example:

A single line of efficient code can replace multiple lines of legacy logic.

Optimizing backend systems often involves removing redundant or outdated code without adding new functionality.

Things like added dependencies can add many lines of code without adding much bespoke functionality.

Mythaura Closed Beta

We are so beyond excited to share this information with you here first: Mythaura closed beta is targeted for Q1 2026!

On behalf of the whole team, thank you all so, so much for all of the support for Mythaura over the years. Whether you’ve been around since the Patreon days or joined us after Koa and Sark took over…it’s your support that has gotten this project to where it is. We are so grateful for the faith and trust placed in us, and the opportunity to create something we hope people will truly love and enjoy. This has truly been a collaborative effort with you and we are constantly humbled by all of the thoughtful insights, engaging discussions, and great ideas to come out of this amazing community of supporters.

So: thank you again, it’s been an emotional and amazing journey for the dev team and we’re delighted to join you on your journeys through Mythaura.

Miyazaki Full-Time

Hey everyone, Koa here!

We’re thrilled to share some news about Mythaura’s development! Starting in 2025, Miya will be officially dedicating herself full-time to Mythaura. Her focus will be on bringing even more depth and wonder to the world of Mythaura through content creation, worldbuilding, and building up the brand. It’s a huge step forward, and we’re so excited for the impact her passion and creativity will have on the project!

In addition, I’ve secured 4-day weeks and will be working full-time each Friday to dive deeper into development. This extra push is going to allow us to keep moving steadily forward on both the art and code fronts, and with Miya’s expanded role, the next year of development is looking really promising.

Thank you all for being here and supporting Mythaura every step of the way. We can’t wait to share more as things progress!

Closed Beta FAQ

In the interest of keeping all of the information about our Closed Beta in one place and update as needed, we have added as much information as possible to the FAQ page.

If you have any questions that you can think of, please feel free to reach out to us through our contact form or on Discord!

Winter Quarter (2025) Concepts

It’s the first day of Winter Quarter 2025, which means we’ve got new Quarterly Rewards for Sponsors to vote on on our Ko-fi page!

Which concepts would you like to see made into official site items? Sponsors of Bronze level or higher have a vote in deciding. Please check out the Companion post and the Glamour post on Ko-fi to cast your vote for the winning concepts!

Votes must be posted by January 29, 2025 at 11:59pm PDT in order to be considered.

All Fall 2024 Rewards are now listed in our Ko-fi Shop for individual purchase for all Sponsor levels at $5 USD flat rate per unit. As a reminder, please remember that no more than 3 units of any given item can be purchased. If you purchase more than 3 units of any given item, your entire purchase will be refunded and you will need to place your order again, this time with no more than 3 units of any given item.

Fall 2024 Glamour: Diaphonized Ryu

Fall 2024 Companion: Inhabited Skull

Fall 2024 Solid Gold Glamour: Hippogriff (Young)

NOTE: As covered in the FAQ, the Ko-fi shop will be closing at the end of the year. These will be the last Winter Quarter rewards for Mythaura!

New Super: Zebra

We've added our first new Super to the site since last year's Prismatic: Zebra, which has a chance to occur when parents have the Wildebeest and Banding Specials!

Zebra is now live in our Beast Creator--we're excited to see what you all create with it!

New Expressions: Ryu

The Water-element Ryu has had expressions completed for both the adult and young models. Expressions have been a huge, time-intensive project for the art team to undertake, but the result is always worth it!

Mythauran Astrology: January

The month of January is referred to as Hearth's Embrace, representing the fireplaces kept lit for the entirety of the coldest month of the year. This month is also associated with the constellation of the Glassblower and the carnelian stone.

Mythaura v0.35

Refactored "Beast Parties" into "User Parties," allowing non-beast entities like NPCs to be added to your party. NPCs added to your party will follow you in the overworld, cannot be made your leader, and will make their own decisions in combat.

Checkpoint floor functionality ironed out, allowing pre-built maps to appear at specific floor intervals.

The ability to set spawn and end coordinates in the map builder was added to allow staff to build checkpoint floors.

Various cleanups and refactors to improve performance and reduce the number of queries needed to run certain operations.

Added location events, which power interactable objects in the overworld, such as a lootable chest or a pickable bush.

Thank You!

Thanks for sticking through to the end of the post, we always look forward to sharing our month's work with all of you--thank you for taking the time to read. We'll see you around the Discord.

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movingthisblogcelestialtarot11 · 8 months ago

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𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆—𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒛 𝑩𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔

Hey there friends! Got around to writing this post <3 sat by a window and watched the pretty autumn leaves. This does not replace legal advice nor does it dictate what will happen in reality. These are just my thoughts and predictions regarding the case of the Menendez brothers. I am so privileged to be able to learn and study under them, so respect to the survivors. May they be released 🙏🏻

Sign this petition to help free the Menendez Brothers 🤍

November 26, 2024 is the retrial date for the Menendez brothers. How will the transits affect their retrial? Let’s take a look—>

Lyles’ transit Sun conj. Venus—This is favorable in terms of reclaiming his image and voice after so long. Both planets sit in the 8h which denotes a transformation after hardship, a complete unveiling of the truth. Think of it like an eclipse. It unfolds right before your eyes: reclaiming what was the truth all along. The masses will be rooting for them especially since Venus conj. Sun is here. News will travel fast of this case, and many eyes will be on the trial.

With this as well, Venus is all about fairness and restoring justice, so Venus conj. sun adds a well needed touch to their case. This unveiled evidence is helping the brothers greatly.

His transit venus is conj. natal sun in the 9h—Amazing for teaching the system how it failed them. Regarding the new evidence popping up, a district attorney recently spoke up about the retrial and said considerably, “the brothers did not get a fair trial. It was a misjustice.” This case will highlight how the systems’ approach needs to change regarding males being sexually abused, and will serve as a strong reminder on how to treat survivors moving forward.

Both are sitting in Capricorn which is absolutely important, Capricorn is all about structure and foundations. It has ties to the government as well and how our system performs. Capricorn rules political structures, and authorities. This time around Lyle and Erik will be receiving a lot more compassionate eyes from the judges, and much better treatment in terms of their community. Venus comes to correct the system as well, since it falls in Capricorn, bringing about much needed change regarding their legal system.

Venus here in this case will cause their trial to reach many hearts no matter the distance. It is emotional.

Their case will be viewed fairly, and be calculated with a sharper eye since 1996, the ruling system was practically shit. It’s even possible Lyle might go on to give long speeches of his past and his prison life, after the trial to reach the masses. He may mostly focus on what he did to help him cope, and become a motivational speaker of some kind. People will look up to them as agents of change.

Agents coming to whip the government in shape!

We also have scorpio sitting in the 7h of long term partnership—it’s possible this evidence will drudge up deeper issues in the case and how it was handled. Muddy, chaotic and yet highlighting how it all was handled wrong. I wouldn’t be surprised if the judge was called out for handling the case indifferently here, especially by the media.

With the ruler landing in Leo transit of the 4h, even more will come to light regarding the Menendez brothers home life. This time it will be met with a lot of passion, support and respect from the masses. Expect to be a lot of uproar if the case is mishandled or criticized—people will be on it. With the ruler sitting here, it’s possible any deception in the legal system in 1996 during the sentencing could be pointed out. It will be talked about, leaving absolutely nothing behind. It will be uncovered because Mars is about conflict, chaos, division, so it’s bringing important aspects the system failed to meet.

With transit mars in the 4th house the brothers are discussing their case with a sense of boldness. Especially since it falls in Leo. This time it seems both have found their voice amongst the pain. It is still an emotional rollercoaster for them both on trial however, but this time there is a renewed confidence.

Libra transit moon conj. Lilith—The Menendez brothers case, along with the “Monsters” documentary made by Ryan Murphy, will still be objectified unfortunately. On the other side of the enormous support and love this time around—there will still be people determined to bring down the brothers. Contradicting stories will be in the news, reporters and district attorneys may have completely different views of the case. Potential for a lot of bias, misandry especially from women who projected their personal feelings onto the case. I mostly see the women could have a bias take on the brothers, women who are reporters or journalists covering the situation.

The documentary in conjunction with the trial will bring about even more spotlight onto the brothers. Both in a redeeming light, and yet somehow still considered an outcast for their murders.

Natal saturn conj. NN retrograde—Revisiting what went wrong. Rectifying. Feels like life is starting over the way it should’ve 32 years ago when they got imprisoned. Lyle will also be nearing the end of his saturn return which amplifies this even further. Strong vibes of discussing the authority system and evaluating who should be the one to decide what is considered guilty vs innocent. Especially with NN being in Aries & saturn. Reevaluating authors figures.

Pisces rising—I’d like to think of this as the brothers being seen with fresh eyes. Being seen in a more rejuvenating light. With transit saturn in the 1h, Lyle will be approaching the trial more structured, disciplined, and definitely wise beyond the years. Both the brothers are nearing the end of a painful cycle here because Pisces denotes that. Pisces is all about the ending of a cycle before starting anew (Aries)

Transit Pluto conj, natal mercury—Pluto is giving Lyle and Erik a platform, a voice to share their trauma and pain once again. This trial will definitely allow Lyle and Erik to open up and be heard. It’s emotional for them and they will be revisiting feelings of abuse and trauma. At the same time it feels like liberation and release for them.

Transit Mercury retrograde in the 8h—Unveiling the traumatic doings of their childhood is difficult for both the brothers, and yet it serves as an astounding foundation for change regarding the justice system. Massive revelations, and information that was hidden will be revealed regarding the legal case. Any legal experts, attorneys that dragged the boys will be prosecuted in the media heavily.

With transit Saturn squaring natal Venus—The divide is still present. I could view this as women in higher positions looking down upon the brothers still, such as reporters and journalists. I can also see this as this trial being very difficult regarding Erik and Lyle, it’s tense. Especially since both are aware of what is happening in the media industry with them being villainized and sexualized.

With Saturn in Pisces in the 11h I feel that if the brothers emerge from prison, it’s almost a shock to them to see the supporters by their side. Tammi, Eriks wife has a TikTok where Erik spoke briefly on there. He didn’t seem to quite understand or grasp the magnitude of support. But I have a feeling when they do come out it’ll feel like a dream for them, because this is all they ever wanted.

Lastly, with Sun trine Saturn the brothers will definitely be experiencing long term fame, since Saturn falls in the 11h. But this fame has a double edged sword as the community is still divided on what to believe regarding the misrepresented brothers. Especially since most of them refuse to understand their story.

Thank ya’ll for reading 🙏🏻 please sign the petition to help support the brothers! It only takes a few minutes of your time. That being said astrology is a tool—it is not something to religiously rely on. I think it serves as an asset! Please let me know your feedback or comments below :) like and reblogs help!

Extra

Paid readings 🤍

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onyxbird · 2 years ago

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The Bridgeport Cat Café

New Leverage AU, based on this video of someone from a cat café account introducing their cats and describing what types of crime they (allegedly) engage in:

Hardison bought them a cat café instead of a brewpub.

Parker thinks it's a great idea. As soon as Hardison shared the idea with her, she started planning out the incredibly elaborate system of climbing structures, catwalks, tunnels, and hidey-holes at both cat and human scale. Hardison wasn't able to implement all of her ideas, especially not before the rest of the team arrived, but he managed a lot, including purchasing the rest of the building the original café occupied and expanding into that space.

The renovated café quickly becomes known for the fact that it is both the physically largest cat café any of the patrons have encountered and that sections of it essentially double as an indoor play structure for both kids and adults.

Hardison, as someone with allergies himself and knowing Leverage would want to bring clients here, poured a lot of thought into the cat-free and "allergy-friendly" side of the café, where patrons can enjoy all of the café's food and beverage offerings, watch the cats, and even climb a limited portion of their signature human-sized "cat tree" while remaining separated from the cats by enormous windows. The two areas are served by separate ventilation and both have thorough air filtration. The cat-free side quickly becomes popular with the remote-work crowd who like to bring their laptops and watch the cats without any actually climbing on them and their work materials. (There are also customer-free portions of the building the cats can retreat to and optionally view the customers through glass.)

Eliot and Sophie, of course, say the idea is absolutely insane. Sophie's mostly ticked off about the unilateral move to Portland and them taking on the extra burden of a (weird, niche) business (although she makes little secret of being charmed by many of the cats themselves), but Eliot is particularly incensed about the difficulties of trying to run a café that's full of animals. "Running a good café isn't child's play, you know. You planning make food on site with cat fur everywhere? You think the Health Department's gonna stand for that? Sure, you can probably get away with some kind of automatic coffee machine and prepackaged food, but that ain't a café, that's an animal shelter with a damn vending machine."

His complaints trail off as Hardison steers him into the (newly renovated) kitchen, through the airlock-style double doors from a hallway not open to the cats, each with an automatic air curtain to keep cat fur as well as cats from slipping through. The other side of the kitchen has pass-throughs and doors directly to the cat-free side of the café. The gleaming new espresso machines are already in place, along with other basic kitchen equipment, although Hardison comments that he's still researching the best ovens and layout for baking all of their pastries on-site (the printouts and notes on his research are already bundled up and ready to be "spilled" on top of the materials for their next job, in front of Eliot).

The kitchen also features several plexiglass tunnels so that cats can watch the action in the kitchen without contaminating the space. Eliot will never admit, even under torture, to making squinty eyes and kissy noises at the cats that come to hang out with him while he cooks with no other humans around to see, especially when prepping pastry in the wee hours of the morning before anyone but the cats is awake.

Finally, Nate regrets having turned Hardison loose with free rein to pick the Portland HQ. When he suggested a restaurant or something as a front, he assumed he knew the limits of what that could entail--in hindsight, he's glad they didn't end up operating out of a Medieval Times* knock-off. He's performatively grouchy about the cats, yet never seems to chase away the ones that mysteriously end up on his lap during job planning. There's one particular "shoulder cat" that seems to love nothing more than riding around on Nate's shoulders during a briefing, occasionally punctuating particularly passionate sections with supportive meows.

Another quirk the café becomes semi-known for is the prominent lost-and-found counter where patrons can try to reclaim items that have vanished from their pockets, as the cats at this establishment seem to be oddly prone to pickpocketing...

*Consciously or not, Nate is on some level aware of how much Hardison and Parker would enjoy watching Eliot "joust."

#bridgeport cat cafe au #leverage aus #leverage #cats

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sls-manchester-official · 6 months ago

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Precentor Devlin Jacobs stood in zero G on the bridge of the Erinyes, his magboots locking him to the deck. Outside the bridge viewports, he could see the latticework structures of the drydock, cradling the massive vessel that he was temporarily calling home.

Each vessel in the Helios Mothball Fleet had a rotating skeleton crew, the minimum number necessary to maintain vital ship systems while they were shut down. Rumor had it that when their ancestors had arrived, they had set up a fully operational SDS system centered on Helios, but everyone said that was all coordinated via the AI research base on Helios' moon, and in any case no one had seen an SDS vessel in decades - if there were crews going out to perform maintenance on those ships, they weren't telling anyone about it.

Only a handful of small corvettes and frigates remained active and operational, alongside a swarm of DropShips that handled most intrasystem transit and transport. It was ironic, thought Devlin, that getting posted to one of those vessels was regarded as a fate to be avoided among those of the Heliosan navy - sure, you were on active duty, but conditions were cramped, the ships were old and cranky, and most of the command officers aboard were hard drivers, almost as fanatic as the ROM weirdos on Helios itself.

No, it was far better to be on one of the skeleton crews. Sleeping ships couldn't be cranky, the quarters on these larger vessels were much better, and while there wasn't a lot to do, it at least left a lot of time for relaxation. Each of the systems two mothball facilities - one each at the L4 and L5 Lagrange points - had their own space station, each of which served as a home away from home for those crews assigned to care for the mothballed vessels. Each station was a stack of five grav decks, each 2 kilometers in radius, arrayed around a central core.

Considered "wonders the system" by Heliosan tourists, a portion of the traffic to and from the stations was indeed civilian - they were dual-use structures, leftovers from the early days of the Diaspora before Helios had been fully settled again, with little permanent population other than their own crews. The station crews had been originally drawn from the Belter populations of the Sol system, and were generally as oddball as many of the stories told about their ancestors.

But, as much as the civilian amenities and personable crews made living on the stations comfortable, it was when he was aboard the Erinyes that Devlin felt truly at home. He knew what she had been built to do, of course, and that purpose had terrified him. But Erinyes, like a great dragon, slept. Had slept for years and years. She was his to care for, and he knew that to wake her meant something was going horribly wrong. Out of the viewports, past the drydock in which Erinyes slept, Devlin could see dozens of other vessels - a score of Diaspora class JumpShips, a pair of cruisers, a battleship, and support vessels.

And then, suddenly, with the lensing bubbles and bright flashes of successful Kearny-Fuchida jumps, three more vessels were among the mothball fleet. Devlin stared at them, at the symbol on their sides he could easily see through the massive bridge viewports. Devlin's stunned brain supplied only two thoughts.

The Star League? What the hell is going on?

( @is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not )

Commodore Mikolaj looked out at the dozens of Heliosan ships scattered across the starfield before them, floating in the void near a considerably-sized space station which, if the HUD painting the bridge windows in blue light was correct, sat exactly at the Lagrange point of the system.

"Status report." She ordered, glancing across the array of officers at terminals all around her as they gave their reports in clipped tones, all systems operational and ready, with boarding parties ready to go, just as she'd ordered.

"Excellent work, ladies and gentlemen," she said. "Now get me a reading on those ships. Intel says it's a mothball fleet, but I'll confirm that for myself."

After a few tense moments, one of the officers spoke up. "No signatures that would indicate an enemy combat-ready ship in the local voidspace, Ma'am." Collen nodded, thanking the man with a nod as she turned to her comms officer.

"Wilson, what's the chatter like? Any orders for battle stations?" The balding man turned slightly, though his eyes stayed locked on the rapidly-scrolling wall of text before him.

"Mostly confusion, Ma'am. It seems they had no clue the invasion was even happening. As far as they're concerned, we've undergone temporal displacement from Amaris' War."

"Very good," she said, reviewing the sensor readouts that were just now beginning to fill her command console, indicating that the entire fleet was on external power from the station, with not a single weapon powered up. "Prepare to broadcast on all frequencies, let's serve up our demands."

Colleen leaned forward, ensuring the microphone in her console would pick up her voice loud and clear, and when Wilson gave her the nod, she began.

@is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not

#battletech #mechwarrior #operation touchdown

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hypotheticalprose · 6 months ago

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The Benefits of Narrative Jazz

CAUTION: I am not a jazz musician, I have no real skill in music, and I am generally always talking out of my ass on this blog. Great, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I will now attempt to use jazz as a metaphor for storytelling.

I love TTRPGs, watch my fair share of actual-plays, and have a handful of hypothetical game systems rattling around in my head that I’ll definitely get around to at some point. However, I was a latecomer to the art form. Unlike many of my friends, I didn’t play DnD until my senior year of high school. I originally only got into it because my little brother was getting into it, and I wanted to be supportive.

Because of this, I have a clear moment in my life where my creative writing work was irrevocably contaminated by my ongoing love affair with random tables and collaborative storytelling. Comparing my mindset before and after that point, the best thing I can compare it to is the difference between classical composing and performing a jazz piece.

When I was younger, I had far more experience with building LEGOs and drawing maps as creative outlets, and I took a similar structural approach to my writing. My work was focused on putting pieces in the right place, making sure everything fit, and killing any narrative dissonance I found with extreme prejudice. In my mind, there was a thing called The Story, and The Story was essentially a window into a realistic, internally consistent alternate World that I constructed myself. It’s the mindset of a guy who obsessively read Wookipedia all throughout middle school to make sure that his homemade Star Wars faction was exactly as cool as the canon allowed.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I started running games of DnD in my speech and debate class (why weren’t we doing, you know, speech and debate? What are you, a narc?) and I discovered the joys of riffing. I approached each session with my meticulously crafted notes, and my grimdark villains, and my Map, and despite my best efforts my players transformed the game into Its Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Luckily, I am only sometimes an utter killjoy, so I found myself really enjoying the game despite the fact that it wasn’t a perfect Story in a perfect World.

Today, I mostly play rather than DM, but I’ve definitely DM’d more games than I have played in em. I also write professionally and personally. As it turns out, the skills that make for good improvisational, collaborative storytelling are just as useful when sitting down and writing a screenplay or narrative.

This is where the jazz comparison comes in. In jazz, a performance typically begins with the bassist playing a pedal point, a single note that the rest of the band builds the song around. There’s also usually a basic melody that they riff off of for their solos. Oftentimes, the performers only have a vague idea of what they will improvise during their solos. Sometimes, the best of the best would completely wing it. But of course, they have that foundation they’re building off of. And even the wildest performers are tethered to that pedal point.

For writers, the pedal point is the thing that makes the story worth writing. I’m aiming abstract here, because it could be a lot of things. A theme they find compelling, a neat character, a specific emotion, whatever. It can even be practical like “I need to write a story that I can use to pay the bills.” No judgement here, we’ve all done it.

The melody is essentially the story’s starting premise. This is the “idea” in its most basic, barebones form. A chord progression and time signature become setting, premise, etc.

It’s the riffing that makes things interesting. None of the players in a jazz band are going to know what the final song will sound like. That means they have to adjust on the fly. They have to connect with what the other players are doing. If inspiration strikes, they use the fundamentals as the tether that prevents them from going too far from the basic premise. When you record a jazz performance, you do slightly kill this magic, right? But here’s the thing: if no one recorded jazz, we’d all have a lot less jazz in our day to day lives.

Every story that exists today is essentially an example of this process. No story remains unchanged. For a younger me, that was a challenging thing to accept. I clung to every idea I had. Every new idea had to fit into my existing framework. It was, essentially, creative constipation. I was writing orchestral pieces where instead of getting rid of my older, amateur work, I was layering more parts over it.

The irony of treating every part of a story as sacred is, after a certain point, you might have a hard time remembering what the original idea that propelled you was. At that point, you’re kinda screwed.

I have found that in my own work, the method that I try to use for everything I do is this:

Follow your story’s guiding light with religious fervor. If you find yourself losing sight of it, your story is in jeopardy. if you have an idea that doesn’t fit the guiding light, consider an alternative home for that story. Alternatively, if you find that you need to change your pedal point out of necessity, recognize that you’re gonna have to retool everything built on it to avoid dissonance.

Be open to inspiration when it strikes, even if it means changing the planned meat and bones of your story quite a bit. If your guiding light is strengthened by the new idea, you will be glad you did it.

In situations where you are releasing episodic content (comics, fanfiction, ttrpg campaign, tv shows, whatever) and retooling past work is not ideal, aim for lean, mean storytelling. Don’t establish things “just because;” it can close you off to better ideas down the line, when it really matters. Don’t write the beginning as though you have a finished story already. Focus on your basic melody, then elaborate as needed.

Writing is output, and existence is input. The latter is the fuel that drives the former. You won’t have a new, better idea if you haven’t experienced anything new. Read something, go for a walk, whatever. Greedily swallow novel concepts and sensations, see what that does to your story. Watch how other people riff on similar melodies, get inspired. A closed system is a system that will put nothing out. If this advice happens to be life affirming, it’s purely tangential to my monomaniacal desire to write stories and shit.

You don’t have to be improvising stories on the spot for a live audience to find these things useful. It is fundamentally a matter of mindset, allowing you to build more effective stories at a high speed. Also, my general need for structure is still totally a thing, don’t get it twisted. I just have a more well-rounded tool kit. But I’ll still make a good fuckin map. With rivers and shit.

#writing community #writing #creative writing #fanfic #ttrpg #ttrpg community #jazz #if you actually know about jazz feel free to mercilessly dunk on my analogy #Or just in general #Dunk away #dnd #dungeons and dragons #writing advice #writing tips

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corrosive-equilibrium · 1 year ago

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Rebirths

(WORLDBUILDING FOR VITRIOL AU ONLY)

To continue off from the general ghost lore and type categories, there is another subset to go over: rebirths.

Rebirths are the results of a ghost's type category being changed into another, typically by force. This phenomenon turned taboo originated from essentially the ghost version of graverobbing.

When a ghost ceases to exist (departs/departure), their essence is returned to the Ghost Zone. During the departure, their damaged core releases the base properties of what makes up the ghost, one of them being the type category. It's basically the structure of their DNA. It is in this brief time window that others could harvest the base properties being released and keep them long enough to be tangible/stable.

Departure is something many ghosts are respectful about. A natural ghost has reached the end of their existence; a limbo ghost is experiencing their second and final death. Ghosts tend to say their last goodbyes or leave the departing ghost alone to have their last moments be peaceful. Harvesting base properties from departing ghosts is seen as being disrespectful, however, that didn't stop the many ghosts that did so out of curiosity.

The rebirth process phenomenon was prominent during the early Primary Era, when the Ghost Zone was known as the Abstract World and when type categories were established. Type categories are formed alongside the ghost, both natural and limbo. There was no possible way for a ghost to change their type categories until curiosity got the best in many and ghosts began experimenting on their own. Using the base properties released from departing forms, ghosts would infuse these properties into materials in order for them to not return to the Ghost Zone. From there, these materials (typically in metal form) would be converted into weapons or other tools. Ghosts discovered that in order to undergo the rebirth process, one must force these converted tools into their core for the properties to be absorbed, whether having an open wound that leads to the core or forcefully creating one.

However, the end result varied from many ghosts ending up in departure, as it was all trial and error. Many tried different type category properties that overwhelmed the core into failure, or some ghosts didn't survive after a tool was stabbed into their center. Afterwards, the desired result came down to using the same type category properties from various departing ghosts. The rebirth process is a painful one and it led to many rebirths suffering from the trauma of it, especially when the process was permanent. Those researching this phenomenon would turn down the opportunity while others would continue out of cruelty.

The rebirth phenomenon quickly died down as soon as the ghost king at the time became aware of it, forbidding the process to ever be performed. Many ghosts would find any material infused with core properties and seal them away. There were precautions taken for fabricators and anyone creating weapons to always check the materials/metals they use. Rebirths who suffered from the process were seen as something pitiful or some sort of abomination. It turned into a taboo that even after the dismantling of the law system (King Pariah's defeat), these precautions were still practiced throughout future eras.

In later eras like the Tertiary Era, rebirths are rare and are typically results of an accident. Many rebirths would enter rehabilitation areas to process the trauma and heal, while others try to move on and get used to their new forms. They've become a part of the Ghost Zone just like any other ghost.

Features of their previous type categories would carry over to the rebirth form, and their cores would store some of the previous properties into memory. Offspring with rebirth parents will typically carry the traits of their parents' original type category pre-rebirth as a result.

#danny phantom #vitriol au #concept art #worldbuilding #rebirths #currently have a hand injury going on #I wish I could draw more but can't atm :(

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thecozycat · 12 days ago

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🧡 Tuesday Tips #12: 🧡 Be Brave, Be Weird, Be Unapologetically You | An Introduction to the Sovereign Web.

Today, I want to share something that means a lot to me - and maybe, it’ll mean something to you too.

Let’s talk about the Sovereign Web. Not just what it is, but what it feels like. What it stands for. Why it’s more than just a movement; it’s a quiet rebellion, a healing space, and a return to something deeply human.

When I first discovered the Small Web and similar movements, it felt like opening a window after being in a stuffy room for too long. Suddenly, there was fresh air. I saw creators sharing from the heart, websites that looked like people, not corporations. Messy, beautiful, honest. It reminded me of the early days of the internet, before algorithms, before ad trackers, before everything became a numbers game. And I thought, "yes. This is what I’ve been missing."

But as I stepped deeper into the community, I also noticed something else; something harder to talk about. Even in a space meant to be free and open, there were still unspoken expectations. Standards. A kind of “right way” to participate. Certain underlying systems. Certain philosophical leanings. Certain unwritten rules and peer pressures to conform to a certain way of doing things.

And hey, guidelines aren’t always bad. They can create structure, help us discover people with shared values, and help communities grow. But I started to see something that broke my heart a little: people being pushed out, dismissed, or even shamed for not fitting perfectly into that mold. Folks who didn’t code their own site from scratch. Folks who had different or unpopular ideas. Folks who showed up a little differently.

That’s not what the personal website building should be.

The whole point of reclaiming our digital spaces is to free ourselves from those systems that told us who to be and how to show up online. So why repeat those same patterns here?

That’s why I’m writing this today. To remind you, and anyone who needs to hear it, that you don’t need permission to take up space here. You don’t need to be perfect. You don’t need to follow some invisible rulebook or ideological guidelines to join the Sovereign Web.

If you’re here because you want to break free from surveillance capitalism, because you want to express yourself without filters, because you want to connect in real, soulful ways; no matter what your reason is for being here, you are already part of it.

If you’ve ever felt alienated, suffocated by the noise of the corporate web, or burned out trying to keep up with ever-changing algorithms… the Sovereign Web offers a way out. A different path. One where you set the pace. Where your site doesn’t have to “convert” or “perform.” It just has to feel like you.

And that’s what makes this so powerful.

You get to be the architect of your own corner of the internet.

Want to build a cozy blog that looks like your old 2000s diary? Do it.

Want to make a directory of every niche thing you love? Please.

Want to write long, thoughtful posts, or share poetry, or build a fictional world, or just post daily cat photos without worrying about if the algorithm will even let anyone see it? Yes, yes, yes!

You don’t need to justify your presence here.

You don’t need to fit a mold.

You don’t need to build a website that impresses other creators.

You just need to build something that feels right to you. That sparks joy for you.

A space you can come to each day that makes you feel good.

There’s something revolutionary about doing that in a world that constantly tries to flatten us into content machines. Choosing authenticity over virality, over branding, over complying with oppressive systems of censorship that stifle creativity is a form of quiet resistance. A return to self. A declaration that you matter as you are.

And listen; your site doesn’t have to be big. Your community doesn’t have to be massive. What matters is meaning. You never know who will stumble across your little corner and feel seen, comforted, inspired to begin their own journey. That in itself is such magic.

That’s the beauty of the Sovereign Web; it ripples. One site leads to another. One voice gives courage to the next.

So if you’ve been on the fence… if you’ve been wondering if this movement has room for you… if you’ve felt unsure, unseen, or like you don’t fit the “aesthetic” or mold of someone elses vision…

Please hear this: you belong.

You don’t have to earn your place here. You don’t have to follow all the same paths. You don’t have to agree with everyone. You just have to begin. Your website is your sovereignty on the web.

Let your heart lead. Let your weirdness shine. Let your story spill out in HTML or pixel art or essays or stickers or code or comic strips or even AI experimentation. Whatever form feels like home.

This is your sign to build your space and make it unapologetically yours.

The Sovereign Web isn’t about conformity, no hidden ideological agendas.

It’s about freedom. It’s about authenticity. It’s about connection.

In whatever way you choose to express it.

And it absolutely has a place for you. Whether you join an already present path, or choose to forge a brand new one and color outside the lines.

Don't be afraid to let your light shine. 🌟

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

Want to help the Sovereign Web movement grow? Join us on other platforms. ♥

Facebook Communities: facebook.com/sovereignweb facebook.com/groups/sovereignweb

Tumblr Community: tumblr.com/communities/sovereignweb

Mastodon: @[email protected] @[email protected]

RSS Feed: sovereignweb.thecozy.cat/category/uncategorized/feed/

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lunas-otome-blog · 9 months ago

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Luna's Review: Olympia Soirée

Official Summary:

The last surviving member of her clan, Olympia travels to Tenguu Island to perform a ritual to bring back the sun. The heads of each district lead a society governed by rigid class structures. Able to travel between the districts, Olympia discovers their wonders and weaknesses. She searches for a partner to help bring unity to this imperiled land.

Luna's Thoughts (Spoiler Free)

Byakuya — known only by her title "Olympia" — is the last of her people, who have a special ability to raise the sun. To preserve her lineage and keep the sun shining, she must find a husband and have children. This is the general thrust of the game, but this fairly simple plot is muddled by complex world building and subtle, dark themes. Though I did admire the ambitious world building, not everything is pulled off successfully.

Set on an isolated island with a rigid caste system based on colors, themes of racism and xenophobia abound. Olympia, being the last of the White, is simultaneously chastised, feared and worshiped. Meanwhile, those presenting non-chromatic or non-conforming hues are forced underground, considered too unsightly to even live on the surface.

Sweet and naive, it's difficult not to like Olympia despite her lack of knowledge about the world around her. When she realizes things are unfair, she takes it upon herself to help make them better, and she has a very strong sense of justice. Trapped away in her guardian's estate for most of her life like Rapunzel in her tower, Olympia knows little of the world around her. The entire common route is getting her — and the player — up to speed.

I was highly disappointed in the rushed timeline of this game. We are told at the beginning that Olympia has a full year to find her husband, yet the routes are each only a couple of weeks long. While I understand she's a teenager with zero life experience, it felt stupid to set her up for a year of careful consideration, only for that to be thrown out the window as she imprints on someone immediately. It's also a pretty sexy game, but in a horny 18-year-old kind of way that I guess is fairly appropriate for a sheltered teenager lol. I am too old for this, I guess.

Let's also talk about themes — because there are too many of them. The common route alone introduces so many ideas, from the color caste system to women's rights to criminal justice, to the idea of human souls having an inherent value. There's also some time warp stuff and stuff about old gods. It was a lot to push in the common route, and not everything is fully explored. My head was spinning. And Olympia just ... will not ask questions.

The color class system also seems very arbitrary because of the confusing sprites. For example, Kuroba of the Black is considered the lowest class because he has black hair. However, Douma of the Yellow, who is also drawn with black hair, is one of the highest ranked on the island. Hairi, who lives underground due to his "unusual" traits, is drawn with blue hair and eyes and seems to be a dead ringer for the Cyan class. Jingen, leader of the Red, has no red traits at all, Tokisada of the Green has only green accents, and nobody comments on Tsukuyomi, the only other character in the game to have white hair.

With the color system allegedly so rigid, one would think the illustrators of the game might have considered keeping the sprites a little more in line with the class system.

This game is also extremely unsubtle. The choices are either extremely obvious or so similar it feels like a waste of time. The "criminals" in Yomi — at least the ones we meet — are all good people who are punished because the world is wrong. And every character who looks and acts sketchy is in fact, sketchy.

Ultimately, while I did like it enough, I thought Olympia Soiree could have done with some simplification. There was just too much going on and it shows, especially in the true end route, where the conflicts of all other routes are pretty much ignored. The other routes are also very isolated and Olympia pretty much only spends time with the character she's pursuing. It just didn't feel much like a cohesive game to me.

All in all, I'd give this a 6/10.

Please find below my thoughts on each route in the order I played them.

Kuroba Route (Spoilers)

As is my tradition, I play the character I like least first if possible. It's not that I didn't like Kuroba in the common route, but he is the flirty archetype which is not usually my favorite.

While Kuroba's route expands nicely on the world of Tenguu Island, I didn't love his relationship with Olympia. Kuroba is shown to be jealous, catty and indirect. In one of the bad ends, when he realizes he can't have her, he just straight up kills her. When another man forces himself on Olympia, he responds by ... also forcing her down and literally saying he should have just raped her when he had the chance?? Gross.

I also didn't think there was enough struggle regarding his color class. This whole route is filled with themes of racism, and how higher colors would rather die than become part of the Darkness Class. And yet, we see none of the racism that Kuroba allegedly experiences. He has a great job and lives on the surface, and nobody seems to act any differently toward him. In fact, in other routes, he is openly praised by people on the surface. It would have reinforced the struggles he's faced as a Black to see him actually struggling.

All in all, I didn't buy this route. Their relationship was expedited and forced, and Kuroba just wasn't that great of a partner for Olympia.

Yosuga Route (Spoilers)

Yosuga's route starts out like Kuroba Plus. He's the same sort of flirty archetype with a little more melancholy thrown in.

Like Kuroba, Yosuga was sent to Yomi from the surface as punishment for something that was not his fault, but has made the best of his situation. Olympia quickly comes to care for him after realizing that he is just like her — the lone survivor of his color class, forced into a new environment. Makes sense.

However, Yosuga at one point does exactly what Kuroba did and forces Olympia down, threatening to rape her. Is this just how otoges are these days? Can't I have some innocent gaming fun without being threatened? Idk if this is what people are into in Japan but I find this sort of behavior so, so icky.

We do find out he's trying to bait her to kill him with her soul powers, but this suicidal tendency is not explored enough later in the route to warrant this scene. It just comes out of nowhere.

A bunch of additional plot threads are introduced, some more fleshed out than others, but ultimately this route is a murder mystery. The second half was decent, but it annoyed me that the victim wrote she was "killed by a blue." If she had time to write a note, why not name the killer? Lazy writing.

Yosuga comes onto Olympia later and it is barely consensual. Like we are pushing the boundaries of nonverbal consent here as she struggles to understand what's happening. Seriously, am I just super vanilla for not liking that sort of thing?

Anyway, Yosuga was better than Kuroba, the plot was somewhat interesting and I enjoyed the expansion of world building and character backstories. But Yosuga was not my favorite character either.

Tokisada Route (Spoilers)

Tokisada is the closest we get to a genki character for this game, and the only love interest who is younger than Olympia. He reminded me of Yoosung, a favorite of mine from Mystic Messenger.

Tokisada is an interesting foil for Olympia. Having started a rebellion in his home world before coming to Tenguu Island, he represents one possible version of Olympia's future. Despite his past failures, he sees himself in Olympia's desire to change an unfair society, and decides to try again with her.

While Tokisada's cute but easily embarrassed character was much more my type than Yosuga or Kuroba, this route suffers from what I would call information throttling. It's mostly just Olympia running around, asking people for information and receiving it piecemeal. We learn surprisingly little about the outside world. Despite introducing the ideas of time travel and life after death, they are not fleshed out AT ALL, and nobody seems to be concerned about them, even though I'd argue it's one of the most interesting plot threads in the game.

Tokisada's character was a little wishy-washy, but in a way that made sense for his character. He acted like a 17-year-old under societal pressure, and we also find out he's being manipulated by various sources. He keeps running away at key moments, which was annoying but understandable given the circumstances.

While he was pretty horny at times, during intimate scenes, he was constantly asking for consent and if what he was doing was okay, which I love. Props, Tokisada!

Riku Route (Spoilers)

Riiiikuuuuu!! A straight-laced tsundere with gap moe — his character seemed tailor-made for me from the get-go. I love when stoic, all-business types break down when saddled with emotions. (Yes, I do love Miles Edgeworth, why do you ask?)

This sort of character is often arrogant, but with Riku, you can tell he only goes on about his responsibility to the Blue because he's the next leader and he's cracking under the pressure. He takes no pleasure in what he's forced to do, and he lashes out as a result of bottling up his own disdain.

When he ends up in Yomi after an accident, it's like the pressure is off and he can be his true self. It might seem like a sudden transformation, but it makes sense considering how long he's questioned the military's actions.

He's actually a kind person — one who eats hamburgers and shares them with random animals —when he's not forced to keep up his persona. He also seems wonderfully willing to learn and grow, as he gets to know Olympia and realizes the rumors about her are false.

The romance pacing was not great, as Olympia falls far too quickly for Riku, but that's the case in every route so *shrug emoji* For the main plot, the pacing on this route was actually better than the others. The start is quite slow, and Riku himself isn't featured heavily until several chapters in.

Akaza is amazing in this route as he steamrolls past Riku's desire to hide his true identity from Olympia and yells at him when he insults her with unfounded rumors and prejudice. Their friendship is so strong and it made me excited to play Akaza's route.

Riku's intimate scene with Olympia was quite refreshing, as it's actually Olympia who comes onto him, letting him know it's ok to touch her. Poor guy was really prepared to wait until marriage, as if our little horndog Olympia was gonna let that happen.

Overall, I liked this route! My biggest gripe was that we didn't get to see Olympia with Riku's hair color, like we do with the rest of the boys. Unfair.

Himuka Route (Spoilers)

Himuka appears little in the other characters' routes, so I didn't know what to think of him. He's a little inconsistent, personality-wise. He's shown to be quite shy, but bold at other times, and when he's annoyed by the assholes who outrank him, he's not afraid to threaten to throw hands.

Like in all the other routes, Olympia falls for him way too fast. But I do appreciate that her attraction to him stems from how she sees herself in him, even if it's just because of their similar hair colors.

This is another murder mystery route, but the culprit is revealed to the player pretty quickly and nothing is done about it for a while, which lessened the impact.

This route is ... weirdly sexy? Like, all the routes are sexy, but in this one Olympia and Himuka straight up lick fruit off each other's fingers?? Does anyone find that attractive? For me it was just weird.

This route had some good lore and definitely helped build upon the world we've been introduced to. I just wish Olympia was more curious and asked more questions. But what else is new?

I will also say that Himuka is kind of a dick in Akaza's route, which you're meant to play immediately after, so it was a bummer to fall for him, only for him to ice you out five minutes later.

Akaza Route (Spoilers)

People in every route tell Olympia she should choose Akaza, and right before him you have to date the literal creator of the world, so making Akaza the true end character was literally the funniest thing this game could have done.

Akaza reminds me a lot of Yanagi from Collar x Malice; all business, straightforward, somewhat kuudere. The difference is that Akaza's route has so much lore packed into it that it feels more like a true ending.

While I liked Akaza's character at first, he becomes more forceful as the route goes on in a way I didn't like. He basically won't take no for an answer.

The brief introduction of a fiancee for Akaza is a waste of time and accomplishes nothing. We also get quick cameos of certain characters we got to know better in other routes, but their introduction feels forced because we only see them the one time. Olympia's maid, Chigaya, makes a brief but important confession that really made me feel like she needed a sprite.

The overall plot of this route was pretty good, and definitely suitable for a true end. But it wraps up a little too neatly with god magic in a way that felt lazy. The world returns to normal and everyone is spared — even some who were previously dead.

Probably the funniest part of this route is when Tsukuyomi steals an important item and says he hid it on the island, and everyone searches for days, only for it to be in the most obvious place ever. Like y'all didn't think he'd just chuck it into ... idk ... the giant well in front of his house?? Tsukuyomi isn't punished for his role in the calamities of this route, which felt like a massive oversight.

Idk, this route was fine I guess. Certainly one of the better ones. But for a true end, it left me with a lot of questions. I still don't understand the marriage system on Tennyo Island, for example. Did the "husbands" just live there for a couple years? Did nobody on Tenguu island question their absence?

My favorite part of this route was actually not Akaza, who was a fine love interest, but Douma. I enjoyed learning more about him and why he's the way he is. He was kind of the star of this route for me.

#olympia soiree #otome #otoge #otoge review #otome game #otome game review

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