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m-y-fandoms · 4 years

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Fuyuhiko x reader - Fuyuhiko’s S/O saves his sister from being killed by Sato

Request: congrats on the blog!! i really like your writing!! could i request fuyuhiko's s/o protecting natsumi from being killed by sato?

Of course! I love Fuyuhiko actually, he just barely missed my top five favorite DR characters list, definitely top 10. Warnings: blood, violence, spoilers for the Danganronpa 3 anime and Super Danganronpa 2, reader’s gender not specified - Mod Kokichi

“See ya, babe. Don’t be late after last period today, I got some shit to handle for my dad as soon as I drop you off at work,” Fuyuhiko spoke lazily, a nudge on your shoulder to get your attention again.

“Yeah, ‘course!” You smiled as he leaned in and pecked you on the cheek, routinely, like he had every morning for the past few years. “See ya, ‘Hiko!” He nodded, sauntering off with books under his arm and his free hand in the pocket of his slacks. “Bye, Peko!” You bowed your head to the swordswoman who followed diligently behind your boyfriend, nodding her acknowledgment to you. You sighed, watching him disappear into the entrance of the main wing of Hope’s Peak Academy. Your eyes glossed over dreamily, lingering on him. Was that a new cologne on him today? Maybe he was wearing his uniform a little neater than usual this morning…

“Let’s go, fuckin’ space cadet!” A shove from behind knocked you forward toward the entrance of the Reserve Course wing, You sighed deeply. “My brother ain’t that cute, damn!”

“Natsumi, you could’ve just said something.” You pushed back the frustration in your voice in favor of a small smile in her direction.

“Whatever, we’re gonna be late, and I’m not dealing with another one of Mr. Nakamura’s lectures on the value of punctuality!” She stuck her tongue out as if gagging, her blonde hair floating through the air as she rushed past you, her shoulder roughly knocking into yours.

“Geez...that girl…” You shook your head, following behind.

You couldn’t really complain about anything or anyone at Hope’s Peak, seeing as you were just lucky to be there in the first place. After dating Fuyuhiko for a little over two years, he got scouted and asked to attend Hope’s Peak’s main course as the Ultimate Yakuza. You were so happy for him, and proud, but he wasn’t as thrilled. He was really attached to you, with your father and his father being childhood friends and clan members, and your own childhood friendship with him had blossomed into this loving and loyal relationship. It was the best kind. After all, people always say the healthiest and longest-lasting marriages came when your spouse was your best friend, and you definitely intended to marry that boy one day. With how close you two were, he’d be damned if he was splitting up with you for some stupid school, but both you and his father weren’t having it. Mr. Kuzuryu only gained more influence and pride once his son started going to the best school in the country, and you just wouldn’t let your boyfriend pass up on the opportunity of a lifetime, and so…

Fuyuhiko had gotten his father to personally pay for your tuition in order to enter the Reserve Course. It wasn’t like your family was poor, but you weren’t Hope’s-Peak-level rich. You protested at first, of course, feeling like a burden, but you could see that Fuyuhiko was quickly getting angry at your refusals and excuses, so you accepted. Plus, he told you that he wanted someone he trusted to look after his little sister, Natsumi, and you let him give you this excuse as a justification to accept his father’s financial support.

The Reserve Course wasn’t that bad, certainly much more high class than your previous school, but sharing most of your classes with Natsumi was a pain in your ass. Her father was the leader of the Kuzuryu clan. Your father was one of his subordinates, below him, and she seemed to like to remind you of that every five minutes. She talked down to you endlessly, and seemed jealous of the attention her brother gave you, but you had absolutely no room to complain to Fuyuhiko about it after what his father had done for you, so you just didn’t. As far as he knew, you and his sister were on good, neutral terms. She was mean and a smart-ass to everyone, so he didn’t expect you two to be having sleepovers and make friendship bracelets, but he figured you liked her, and she didn’t hate you.

You could sense a deep insecurity in Natsumi: a need to be recognized, a want to be in the main course, an inferiority complex that you sometimes saw in other Kuzuryu’s you knew, so you tried to always be nice to her. Everyone has their struggles, and her aggressive personality was how she pushed back hers. She was in your life for good, if you wanted to stay with Fuyuhiko, and besides, you promised him you’d look after her. And so, you kept your chin up and walked to class with a smile...until you opened the classroom door.

“I’m telling you, Kuzuryu, I don’t care who your father is, none of us do! You’re in the Reserve Course just like us because you’re no better than anyone else here!” The green haired girl, Sato, Natsumi’s current and longest-standing arch-enemy, loomed over Natsumi, her face red with anger and hands balled into trembling fists at her side. Really...they’re starting early today...school just started.

“Move your stupid face and smelly breath out of my face before I move it for you!” Natsumi spat back, leaning further into the argument. You quickly ran and stood between them. Every day was like this, with you or your classmate Hajime Hinata - a plain boy with a big heart - breaking it up before it escalated. But it was wearing on you, having been going on for over a month.

“What the fuck did you say, bitch?! Just because your dad is some thug criminal doesn’t mean no one can touch you! You’re testing my patience!” Sato’s hand raised, and your own shot out and grabbed her by the wrist.

“Woah, woah!” Your breath was shaky. “What’s it about, today, guys? What happened?” Sato was mad about you stopping her, of course, but she liked you, certainly more than she did Natsumi, and she respected you and Hajime for always looking out for your classmates, even if she didn’t want to admit it. After all, you’d stuck up for her and others just as much as Natsumi over the course of the semester - not taking Natsumi’s side so much as simply diffusing the situation - so she paused her attack, huffing. You couldn’t actually believe Sato raised her hand to Natsumi. They always bickered, every single day, but it hadn’t gotten physical, yet.

“She’s talking shit about Mahiru again! I told this bitch to stay away from Mahiru and keep her name out of her mouth, but of course her jealousy knows no limits!” Sato spat, and you looked to Natsumi as if for confirmation. Just then, Hajime Hinata, as well as your professor, waltzed into the room together, just a little late after the bell. Upon seeing the scene before them, Mr. Nakamura spoke out:

“What’s going on here? I’m a few minutes late and you guys think class should turn into a free-for-all? Get to your seats!” You looked to Natsumi, then Sato.

“Guys, this isn’t worth it, please…” Your eyes pleaded softly. Sato scowled, turning away and returning to her seat. Natsumi pushed past you, her lips close to your ear.

“I’ve told you before and I’m telling you again, I don’t need you fighting my fuckin’ battles for me…” she whispered, her tone flat and menacing, “I don’t care if you’re dating my brother, if you get in my way again, I’ll handle you and Sato.” You knew she didn’t mean it. She was hotheaded like her brother, and at this moment she felt bested by Sato, not having gotten to say her piece and have the final word in the argument. She was embarrassed and angry. So you let her go back to her seat without a response or retort.

When the class period ended, you caught Natsumi walking past Sato as everyone was leaving the room, speaking harshly. “Hey, Sato, raise a hand to me again, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

You were in the back of a sleek limousine, sitting on Fuyuhiko’s lap, your arms around his neck as he attacked your neck with rough kisses. Being alone in the back was nice and all, but it felt so...off. Usually, Natsumi rode along with you, and any friends that were riding back to the Kuzuryu east-side guesthouse after school to hang out. Friends and non-clan members weren’t allowed in the Kuzuryu main manor, it was far too dangerous, but the Kuzuryu’s owned many little extravagant homes, lounges, stores and clubhouses where you’d meet up and pass time with friends.

“ ‘Hiko, why isn’t Natsumi here, again?”

“I told you, some shit about a photography club meeting after school. You know she likes taking pictures and shit.” His brow furrowed at the interruption before going back to your neck. “Geez, just savor it. I rarely have time to be alone with you.” You pushed his shoulders back.

“Y-yeah but, Natsumi isn’t in the photography club for the Reserve Course. I know because I’m in it...we don’t have a meeting this week.” You started to worry.

“Whatever, who cares. Maybe she went off to give some kid a handy behind the school.” You rolled your eyes at his facetious tone and he smirked. “Why do you care? She’s fine.” He took his attack south to your collarbone, and you let him as you continued.

“Well...it’s just…she’s been having issues with this girl in class and I’m worried…”

“Issues?” His head popped up, face screwed up in an annoyed and anxious expression, but then melting into careful suspicion just as fast. “What kind of issues? I’m sure that if it was that bad, you’d have told me a while ago, yes?”

“W-well, of course, but...I mean nothing’s happened, really…they usually just swear and insult each other, but today, things almost got physical…” He paused, thinking.

“...what’s been going on?” Physical for a boy used to being around yakuza could mean anything from a fistfight to a bullet to the head, so he automatically assumed the worst most of the time.

“I don’t know...they just hate each other. Natsumi doesn’t like this girl...Mahiru Koi...something. She’s in your class. She’s jealous of her, I think...and so Sato, the one Natsumi is fighting with, is defending Mahiru to be a good friend, but-“

“Pfft! I thought you were gonna say something serious. This is petty high-school girl shit, s/o! If they wanna throw punches, break their nails and pull hair, let them. Natsumi and I see blood spilled every day. She can handle herself in a fight. Let her pop this Sato chick in the mouth, then. Who cares? Bet it will settle this little spat of theirs. You shouldn’t be so stressed about it.” His eyes softened, rubbing your back with one hand.

“I know, it’s just...I mean you told me to look out for her, and it’s not like I don’t care about your sister, she’s like family to me…”

“It’s not your job to babysit and bodyguard her. I just said that so you’d take the damn tuition money and I think you know that,” he snorted, shifting your position on his lap to kiss you on the forehead. “If she really needs someone like Peko, we’ll get her someone, but we both wanted to go to school without the clan’s influence. You know that…” he trailed off.

“I know, but-“ the driver stopped abruptly.

“I’ll see you after work. Don’t stress about this, seriously.” Fuyuhiko pushed your folded up work clothes into your hands, and you gave him a look of warning, as if to say ‘you aren’t taking this seriously’ before he gestured toward the limousine door, giving you a playful slap on the ass as you exited with the driver patiently holding the door open for you. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, ‘Hiko,” you smiled before pushing through the large crystal doors on the upscale, Kuzuryu-owned men’s clothing boutique for your shift.

The next day was like any other school day: dropped off at the gates, Fuyuhiko’s peck on your cheek, Natsumi walking with you to first period...but, what was that grin on her face…? She hated waking up early, she hated first period...she was always sluggish or irritable and waiting for her morning caffeine to kick in. You decided you were being paranoid, and shook it off.

When you entered the classroom, the students were all huddled in the corner, surrounding Sato, who was screaming at Hajime about something.

“-and I am not just gonna let this slide, Hinata! You better fuck of-“ Hajime saw you two enter, and Sato’s eyes followed his own, her rant cutting off. Locking eyes with Natsumi, who smirked back wickedly, she flew out of her seat, launching herself at your future sister-in-law. Natsumi fought back, her hands around Sato’s neck as Sato pulled her down to the ground.

“Oh my-stop!” You pulled at Natsumi’s arms, everything seeming to happen so fast. She threw an elbow back toward you for interfering, and it hit your side roughly. You grimaced, the pain working hard but your adrenaline working harder. You thrust yourself between the girls, pulling Natsumi back with all of your might. Hajime rushed over, pulling Sato off the ground and holding her back as she kicked and swung.

“I told you-! You-let go of me!!!” Natsumi resisted as well, and you and Hajime locked eyes, barely keeping hold of the two combatants.

“What could possibly be worth all this!” You wheezed, Natsumi quickly overpowering you.

“That cunt! Let me go, Hinata or I’ll fuck you up, too!” Sato roared, catching the attention of Mr. Nakamura, who rushed in and quickly pressed his authority, threatening both girls with suspension or worse if they spoke another word or touched each other. They were both sent to the headmaster’s office, with Hajime being asked to escort them since they ‘obviously needed to be monitored like children’.

You sat in your desk seat, uniform askew, armpits wet with perspiration. Another student filled you in after class. Apparently, Natsumi had gone over to the photo development room in the main course’s wing after school, and ripped up each and every photo Mahiru was going to present at the upcoming photography competition on campus. Twenty photos for a gallery opening up tomorrow for student work. Twenty priceless, stunning photographs by the Ultimate Photographer, all gone. Oh...so that’s why Sato was so pissed. You had to admit, it was hard to defend Natsumi at this point. You released a breath you’d been holding in, putting your head down on your desk to just calm your thoughts before texting Fuyuhiko. You filled him in about what happened, every detail, and your thoughts on it, taking Sato’s side as gently as possible. You had hoped to get his counsel, simply wanting validation and reassurance that there was nothing to worry about, but you ended up only making it worse.

Natsumi texted you about fifteen minutes later, calling you a fucking snitch and many other expletives, saying with malice that now her brother was on her case. Fuyuhiko then texted you saying he told Natsumi she better go straight to the limo after the last bell rang like a fire was lit under her ass, and that he wanted you to stand outside her last class and wait for her to make sure she did just that. You swallowed your spit down hard, throat going dry all of a sudden. You didn’t intend for this to happen. Now Natsumi was going to hate you, and Fuyuhiko is going to be in a bad mood. Why did you have to be so stupid? Why did Natsumi have to cause so much trouble? Maybe you should just let her suffer on her own, and stop stressing about it like Fuyuhiko said. This wasn’t fair, for you to feel like this because of her behavior.

You left your last class a few minutes early, rushing to Natsumi’s classroom with an exhausted and anxious air about you. You found the class, and leaned on the wall beside the door, preparing for her to march out and scream at you and who knows maybe even strangle you because that’s what she was into now apparently and-

Your ears perked up at a loud sound, like muffled yelling and a crash of glass. It sounded nearby, but far away at the same time. The yelling picked up, a bit louder now, and you felt yourself get nervous for no reason. It had to be on this floor, and close. You looked around, and held your bag close, sprinting down the hall. The sound got louder, confirming your suspicions until you were in front of the music room, with yelling and then a strangled cry coming from the other side. You panicked, fumbling with the door handle, but it wouldn’t budge. You pounded on the door, your breathing getting harder and faster. Backing up, you braced yourself, and ran at the door with the strength of fight-or-flight adrenaline in your veins, throwing your shoulder into the hard door and it flew open, slamming into the wall on the other side.

“NATSUMI!” You didn’t have time to baby your injured shoulder, as the scene before you needed immediate action, obviously. A broken glass fish tank was scattered on the ground, gravel and quickly dying freshwater fish littering the floor. The room was a mess, with sheet music and desks knocked over and spilled out everywhere. Sato stood near the window, her hands around Natsumi’s neck in a vice-like grip, and Natsumi gasping and flailing, her eyes slowly rolling to the back of her head. “Sato, what the fuck are you thinking?!!!” You ran at her, and Sato didn’t even look in your direction, her mind clouded with hatred and blood lust. Knocking into Sato with all you had, she fell forward into the window, releasing Natsumi as the window splintered and cracked around her.

Natsumi hit the the wall beside the window and fell to the floor, gasping and choking, her lungs clawing desperately for air. Sato leapt at her again, and you tackled her to the ground, looking up at Natsumi.

“Go! GO! Fuyuhiko will be at the gates! Get him!” Natsumi looked shocked, traumatized, and simply stared at you, while Sato spat and growled and tried to buck you off, reaching for Natsumi’s skirt. “Get someone! Please!”

“I-I told you I don’t need y-your help, s/o!” She tried to keep up her gangster’s-daughter persona even in her shaken-up state, but her voice betrayed her and tears sprung from her eyes. Sato threw you off and started to stand.

“Run! Natsumi, RUN!!” She heard the seriousness in your voice, the fear, and she had never heard you sound like that before. You were her brother’s sensitive, pacifist, kind-hearted s/o, and here you were, in danger because of her. She shook off her pride, and ran toward the door as you grabbed Sato’s ankle and she tripped to the ground again. Natsumi disappeared down the hall, screaming for help the entire way.

“Fuck you! Fuck you!! She deserved this! You ruined everything!” Sato sounded like an animal more than a high-school girl. She reached to her right, twisting her body around violently until she could reach a long shard of glass from the fish tank, and she brought it down hard on your thigh, the glass tearing into your flesh.

You screamed out in pain, your vision blurring quickly at the shock of it, sobs coming immediately from your mouth. Blood gushed out of the inches-deep wound, and your heads involuntarily released Sato. When you steadied yourself, steeling your nerves, and reached out to try and neutralize her again, she pulled the glass out of your leg, slamming it down again, hitting a vein deeply before pulling it out. You yelped and forced yourself to stand as she did, blood spurting freely from your leg. You fell more than threw yourself onto her, your head beginning to spin and feeling consciousness leaving you slowly. Leaning on her, you wrapped your arms around her waist with all of your remaining energy, and gripped tightly, hoping you could at least burden her enough to make leaving to room slower and making it impossible for her to catch up to Natsumi or flee the scene before help came.

Now with a great strength advantage over you, she arched her back, threw her head back, and slammed you behind her into the wall. Your head hit the wall with a crack, and immediately you slumped to the ground, your world going dark.

“...hear me? S-.....” fuzziness. Emptiness. Darkness. “-lose you, please! You h-“ A voice faded in and out, then finally out for good. Hours later, you felt yourself stir.

When your eyelids flew open, the ceiling above you was white, clean, calming.

“S/o?!” Fuyuhiko? You sat up quickly, a pounding in your head making you gasp and whimper. “No, no! You need to stay down.” A hand on your chest softly guided you back onto the pillow below you. You turned your head to the side. You took in your surroundings slowly. A hospital. You were in a hospital bed, and Fuyuhiko had been in a chair beside you, now standing at your side. His hands flew to your face, cradling your cheeks. “You’re an idiot, you know that? Are you fucking crazy?” His words were harsh, but there was no anger behind them, only worry and pain. You felt the wrap of linen around your head wound, and adjusting your leg at all resulted in a sharp spike of pain shooting up your body.

“Where’s Natsumi? Is she okay? Did Sato-“

“I don’t wanna hear that bitch’s name. And why are you worried about Natsumi right now?!” Now there was anger. “You almost fucking died, s/o! I almost lost you!” His voice cracked on that last word, and your eyes widened at the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes before he angrily rubbed them away with his sleeve. “Natsumi’s fucking fine. She didn’t have anything more than a few bruises on her neck. Nothing’s broken or injured except her pride. And she will be coming to thank and apologize to you at length later.” You didn’t comment on that last bit, deciding instead to ask about what happened after you passed out.

Natsumi found a security guard at the entrance, he explained, and he saw her screaming from his position at the school gates. He rushed over to yell at her and figure out what the hell was going on, before having her grab him by the wrist and force him into the school with stuttering gibberish about you and that you were in trouble or something like that with the security guard running close behind. When they got to the music room, the door was open and Sato was nowhere to be found.

Fuyuhiko had screamed your name, his throat ripping apart as he swore and cried and snot ran down his face like a fool. He ran to what he thought was your corpse, blood splattered everywhere, pooling under you, a little patch of blood on the wall behind you head. He took in your closed eyes and thigh oozing slowly-drying blood, and picked you up into his arms, his clothes getting covered in the liquid. He screamed at Natsumi to call for the police, an ambulance, anything, while the security guard called for backup and went off to find Sato. You were brought immediately to the hospital along with Natsumi, and he’d been waiting by your bed ever since, just pleading, begging you to wake up. Sato was apprehended by police a few blocks from the school, obviously off her rocker and in a manic state.

“You...you were almost gone. You lost...just so much blood,” he sniffled.

“But, I’m here,” you reached up and grabbed his hand, a comforting smile on your lips, “aren’t I?” He scoffed at you.

“You fucking idiot,” he shook his head, leaning down and kissing you roughly on the lips, tears from his eyes falling onto your cheeks. “I fucking love you. Don’t make me worry like this.” He pulled back, face inches from yours.

“I love you, too, so much.” You looked back at him with some indeterminable emotion washing over you. You were just overwhelmed.

“I will always love you. Please, don’t leave me.”

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tickle-bugs · 4 years

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Is That My Shirt?

Summary: Finn has a curious habit of stealing Poe’s things, but Poe can’t be mad when he figures out why. Pre-relationship with a confession. After TFA but before Last Jedi.

Baby’s first fic! I am a FinnPoe stan so it only felt write to have them start my blog :)

Finn was new to a lot of things, with meaningful relationships being one.

He’d been out of the First Order for a few months now—a familiar face in the Resistance but woefully unconnected. He got nods of respect and conversation in passing, but never anything more than a few seconds of interaction. The galaxy was in peril, and everyone was too busy saving it to talk about it. Finn understood. The Resistance was fast paced, after all, and small talk wouldn’t defeat the First Order. Rey loved to talk with him but she was busy with her training and all-but unreachable. Even if she were around, Finn would feel bad disturbing the galaxy’s only hope.

That being said, Poe was a breath of fresh air.

Finn and Poe had been joined at the hip ever since the fall of Starkiller base. They were talking, always talking, filling the air with every topic they could think of. Poe checked in with Finn after every meal and every task, updating him on Resistance happenings and providing completely factual, unexaggerated commentary on his latest jobs. At some point, things shifted from the Resistance to their own lives, before the Order and the war. Finn never had much to say then, but Poe could talk for hours about his childhood escapades. He said enough for both of them. Finn simply listened.

When Poe would go away on missions, Finn would spend hours jotting down questions and conversation topics on the backs of old blueprints and wanted posters until he returned. As soon as his X-wing touched down, they’d spend the whole day catching up and reveling in each other’s company. They’d snatch extra portions and go sit among the stars, watching the constellations and ships zooming by in hyperdrive. It was on one of these stargazing trips that Finn realized just how deeply he’d fallen.

They’d taken a blanket out that night, since their planet was getting colder and colder. Poe had stolen a bottle of something from Snap’s personal storage and they’d been sipping from it to warm their bodies and spirits. They laid next to each other on the cool earth, Poe with his arms behind his head and Finn with his hands folded neatly over his stomach. Finn’s eyes trailed one particular ship as it crawled across the sky. Poe was occupied with trying to read the label on the bottle he’d poached, which was in a language neither of them understood.

“You look like an old man when you lie like that,” Poe said suddenly, startling Finn, who laughed a little.

“Always so eloquent, Poe.”

“Seriously! I’ve never met anyone who willingly sleeps like that. How can you be comfortable?” Poe turned over on his side to face Finn.

“The First Order taught us to sleep like this. We conserved the most space this way, in case we had to bunk on an enemy planet. Plus, it was neater.” Finn said, shrugging and settling further into the blanket. Poe frowned and got quiet, unsure of what to say next. He scooted closer and tugged on the hem of Finn’s jacket.

“This really does suit you, y’know. It makes you look all leader-y. You look like a proper Resistance hero.” Poe’s lopsided smile was bright enough to challenge the stars.

“Um...thanks,” Finn said quietly, unsure of how to handle Poe’s gaze and that smile. He turned his eyes to the sky again.

“I mean it,” Poe said, nudging Finn’s arm a bit. Finn chose to ignore him. What could he say?

Silence apparently wasn’t a good enough answer for Poe. Emboldened by the liquor, Poe climbed messily over Finn until he was sitting on his legs. Finn’s entire body tensed and he kept his hands tightly folded on his stomach. If he let them go, they could do all sorts of stupid things, like hold Poe’s hips or brace his lower back. No, this was for the best.

“Since you don’t believe me, I am going to walk you through all the ways this jacket was meant for you.” Poe leaned over, took a quick swig from their bottle and handed it to Finn, who took a much longer one.

“Okay, now I’m ready. Let’s start with your shoulders. You have nice shoulders and the jacket shows them off. Every great hero has nice shoulders.” Poe poked Finn’s shoulder as he spoke.

“Is that so?” Finn said, unable to keep a smile off his face.

“Yes it is. I have nice shoulders, so does Rey. I can’t really comment on Leia’s shoulders for obvious reasons, but my logic stands. Hero material.” Poe said matter-of-factly, his words slurred slightly.

“Your chest is number two, but I don’t really need to detail that one. Thirdly, and most importantly, it’s this,” Poe placed his palm flat on Finn’s stomach and smiled at him again, bright and unfiltered. Like he had no concept of the gravity of what was tumbling out of his mouth.

“How much have you had to drink, Poe?”

“Enough. But shush, this is the most important part. The jacket brings out your gut.”

“It makes me look fat?” Finn cocked his head to the side, eyebrows furrowing.

“No! Dear god, man. I mean that from the second you put on this jacket, you became braver and wiser. You’re a good man, Finn. You saved my life on instinct, out of the goodness of your heart. Even when you thought I was dead, you continued my mission and brought BB-8 to safety. None of this would be possible without you,” Poe said, vaguely waving at their surroundings. His intensity shook Finn deeply to his core.

“Like I said, you’re a good man. You’re a hero in my book. You always will be—is that my shirt?” Poe stopped in his tracks to lightly pinch the fabric of the awfully familiar heather grey shirt in question.

“I can explain,” Finn said, raising his arms in surrender. He was really, really hoping that Poe wouldn’t notice.

The First Order had left a deep impression on Finn’s memory. He was deeply claustrophobic now. Being in any tight spaces reminded him of his cramped bunk with the Order. The screams of villagers from Jakku still echoed in his mind when things were quiet. Talking drowned out the noise, but not when Poe was gone. After one sleepless night when Poe was away, Finn stole his blanket and curled up on his floor to sleep. The shirt was wrapped in the blanket, and Finn figured that Poe wouldn’t miss it. The faint scent of motor oil and wildflowers on the shirt kept the screams at bay most nights. So he wore it, completely forgetting that Poe had eyes and probably not many outfits, so he would notice the loss.

“I was changing this morning and threw it on. It was the first clean thing I saw and I didn’t think twice about it. It must’ve gotten mixed up in the laundry.”

“We do our own laundry, Finn.”

“I’m out of excuses.” Finn shrugged.

“And I’m out of patience, my friend. Did you steal my shirt?” Poe said, his tone shifting with hints of playfulness. He leaned close, his eyes glittering in the light of the double moon.

“Maybe.” Finn’s eyes flicked down to Poe’s lips, just for a second.

Poe’s hand started vibrating into Finn’s stomach and Finn squeaked before dissolving into helpless laughter. His free hand was busy gently scratching at Finn’s side and eliciting the most adorable giggles Poe’d ever heard.

“You wanna talk about the shirt now or after I get your neck?”

“I’ll never talk!”

“Suit yourself.” Poe moved one hand up to nestle under Finn’s jaw, occasionally reaching up to skitter behind his ears. The other wicked hand stayed on that spot on the left side of Finn’s stomach that kept making him snort.

“Poe, quihihit it! It tickles!” Finn managed to get out between bouts of frantic giggles. He kept trying to trap Poe’s fingers with his chin, but he always seemed to miss.

“That’s kind of the point, Finn.” Poe smiled fondly at Finn with those stupid charming dimples. Finn could only imagine what he looked like at the moment.

“Well, it’s mehehean. Wait, Poe noho! I swear to god–“ Finn’s words were lost in brilliant laughter as Poe started tickling Finn’s thighs, occasionally squeezing his knees.

“I can do this all night,” Poe teased, talking just loud enough so Finn could hear him over his laughter. Please do. Never stop.

“Fine! You win. I hate you,” Finn giggled out, pushing weakly at Poe’s chest.

“You love me,” Poe said, his fingers slowing until they were simply running gentle lines up and down Finn’s stomach.

“I do.” Finn grabbed Poe’s hands in his own, squeezing quickly. They stayed like that for a minute, warming each other’s hands and smiling at the silliness of it all. Finn’s gaze flicked down to Poe’s lips once more.

Then, as if Poe had heard his thoughts, he leaned in and kissed Finn. It was gentle and sweet, and Poe still smelled like wildflowers. Finn’s hand tangled in Poe’s curls as he drank in what he’d been wanting for so long, ever since they’d met on that Star Destroyer ages ago. They pulled away slowly, both afraid of scaring the other off.

“You can keep the shirt,” Poe said, leaning his forehead against Finn’s, “I’d rather have you instead.”

#my fics #bug’s greatest hits #i love them sweet boys #finnpoe #ticklish!Finn #stormpilot #star wars #poe dameron #finn

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caseybanning · 5 years

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The New Recruit

((a roleplay log from myself, @captainjanegreene, @ghosttmachine, and @zackoak from about a year ago, whoops. no big content warnings except maybe for a hand injury. not sure if Fay has their own RP blog?))

MONTHS IN THE PAST

The Dire Warning rests at dock, taking on cargo and crew for its next journey. Visible on deck is its infamous captain. Jane Greene was, legally speaking, perfectly within her rights to step into London, but, practically speaking, could not do so without inviting every other kind of trouble imaginable.

Make sure the blacksmith actually finishes this time," Casey's exhausted voice carries, coming up over Tallulah's deck. The captain, a scraggly-bearded fellow smelling of salt and tobacco shook his head.

"No second chances at zee. I've got a man who can finish in half the time."

Casey frowns, stopping at the bow to run their hand over the broken railing. "Fair enough," they concede, looking out to the docks. Zailors were milling about, quickly carrying cargo to and from the ships, boiling steam churning up from the pipes as one readies to head out, a familiar tall figure a couple ships down watching--wait, what?

Fayçal wanders the docks, scanning the ships and those accompanying them. They were searching for someone that met the description they had been given. They had been told that the captain they were looking for was rarely in London for long, and as such, were beginning to lose hope that they would find her. That is, however, until they saw someone that fit her description entirely that they had no doubt in their mind was her. They began making their way through crowds of zailors towards her ship.

Jane may have spotted Casey; she's looking in their direction, and while she doesn't wave she at least nods, and does a sort of beckoning gesture with her head.

(Down below...)

Fayçal finds that the crowd of zailors dries up a bit closer to the Dire Warning. It's clear that this is a pretty dangerous ship to sign on with.

(Aboard Tallulah...)

The zailor follows Casey's gaze over to the Dire Warning and chuckles. "Careful with that one, she's--"

Casey is already partially down the staircase before hearing the end of his sentence. They almost run into a red-headed person who'd been staring up at Jane's ship ("Sorry!! So sorry!") before making a quick pace up to the stairs leading to the deck.

"Jane?!"

Fayçal hesitates before the ship when they see the others avoiding it, and hear the whispers and mutterings of passing zailors. They watch the ship for a moment before they are bumped into by someone else, running on to the ship and calling for Jane. That was all the more confirmation of her identity they needed.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Fayçal follows Casey onto the ship.

Jane stands with open arms, grinning as Casey approaches. "Good to see you, Casey. Been a few months, I suppose?"

"Oh, just a few," They smile, giving her a warm hug. "It's good to see you too. I hope the zee has not been too cruel." There is a moment where it seems like they are about to say something else, but then pauses at the sound of footsteps close behind. Casey turns, seeing the person from before, and shifts a little to make they were standing partially in front of Jane.

"I'm truly sorry about earlier." Casey says. "I didn't mean to shoulder you, but if you needed to talk it out, we shouldn't be here to do so."

"Oh! No, no, it's fine," Fayçal says, raising a hand defensively. "I didn't come here for that. I was actually hoping to talk to, ah, Captain Greene," they say sheepishly.

"Here to sign on? Let's have a look at you, then." Jane steps forward and circles Fayçal once, assessing them. They keep talking to Casey, however. "I hope you'll stay for tea once I'm done here? I figure we can catch up a bit more personally than through letters."

Casey is watching Jane circle the stranger with a slightly amused grin. "My business here is nearly finished... I'd love some tea." They tilt their head, studying Fayçal from where they're standing. "Have you ever been at zee?"

"I have, though not extensively," Fayçal says, glancing over at Jane as she circles them. They try to push the image of some small prey animal being circled by a hawk out of their mind. "I've also sailed on the surface, but I understand that's not entirely comparable."

"It's not, but your old skills will still help. What's your name, then?" Jane steps back. Their eye bores into Fayçal, or maybe that's just the way Jane's face looks.

Casey leans in to Fayçal. "She's really a wonderful woman when you get to know her. Not entirely intimidating such as on a first glance." They said with a small smile.

Fayçal gives Casey a slight smile before glancing back up at Jane. "My name is Fayçal Descoteaux."

"French, eh? Alright, Fayçal." She says. "If you know enough about sailing I doubt you'll get under our feet when we're under way, but there's a few other things I have to check. Strike me." She instructs, with her tone obviously indicating she's not in the mood for objections. Casey is quick to stifle their surprise laugh, instead hastily coughing and stepping off to the side.

Fayçal looks up at Jane in surprise, before quickly looking her over. They knew there would likely be a catch to this- perhaps she would try to dodge or otherwise deflect the hit. This meant they had to act quickly if they wanted it be effective at all. They throw a hard punch at the most effective place they could reasonably reach- in the center of her torso, right under her ribcage. Jane grunts a bit, but far more important to Fayçal is the feeling of their fingers... crunching as they impact the armor hidden beneath the coat.

Fayçal quickly pulls their hand back, gasping and cursing under their breath. What the hell? They quickly look over their hand, then back up at Jane, surprised and perhaps a bit afraid. Had this meant they had failed her test? Surely she didn't actually expect them to have known she had armor on.

"Welcome aboard, zailor." Jane says with a grin. "Let's get that patched up and get some tea brewed, then."

---

In the ship's kitchen, there's a table and some stools and a whistling kettle. Jane proves to be quite a skillful surgeon, and quite a bit cleaner and neater as well; Faycal's fingers are now comfortably numb and bandaged up.

"You would have passed if you'd gone for the face as well, but I like that you went for the rib shot. Shows you're thinking about more than my eyepatch." Jane says conversationally. "Tea should be in the cupboard right there, Casey." Casey patters about, retrieving the tea but also taking note of the ways Jane has secured the kitchen. They expected no less for it to be a central hub of safety, considering the who the captain is.

"I don't recognize most of these labels," They remark, carrying over a few selections. "It all certainly smells of tea, but... different."

"Some of them are from South, near the Mountain. They'll clear a cough right up." Jane says absentmindedly as she finishes patching Faycal up. "There. Now, keep in mind... if we're boarded or otherwise find yourself in combat, and you see something wearing a coat, be wary of striking it with your bare hand. There's no telling what's under there."

"I don't think I would have been able to reach your face well enough to actually hit you anyway," Fayçal says with a light laugh. "And yes, I'll be sure to keep that in mind," they say, and glance down at their bandages. "Thank you again for patching me up."

"It's not a problem. We have quite a good surgeon working on this ship, but if they happen to be occupied you're always welcome to come to me for help. I do my best to take care of my crew and compensate them fairly, but I won't hide that we go to dangerous places and engage in dangerous business. That little test of mine covers quite a few bases, though... fighting instinct, reflexes, response to commands... pain threshold." She grins at that morbid little joke.

"Nobody surpasses Jane in the pain threshold category," Casey chimes in, settling down on a stool. "That's one test that is rarely won."

"If you're in a situation where you're being tested at that level I'd be more concerned about you simply surviving than how well you're dealing with the pain." Jane volleys back.

Fayçal laughs, albeit somewhat nervously. As time goes on, they were less and less sure that this was a good idea. However, that was not going to stop them. "I'm assuming you do that test with every new person who wants to join your crew?"

"Aye. That's one of the reason I don't get the crowds some of the other ships do. Word gets around. Lots of zailors figure the Zee is dangerous enough without a madwoman who ventures its farthest reaches at the helm."

"Once you're in Jane's crew, however," Casey says. "You may find this is a startlingly safe ship. There is no protection left aside, so in truth she's probably the most sensible captain you'll meet. Everyone else is frightened."

"Were you on her crew?" Fayçal asks, giving Casey a curious glance.

Casey's smile is wry. "I just know her very well, and hear reports back from her crew. Her and I go back a few years."

Fayçal nods, and decides it'd be best not to question further. "My apologies for interrupting your visit with her."

"This meeting was a happy accident. You weren't interrupting anything." Jane says.

"Plus, the Dire Warning is set to head out of London as soon as everything is ready." Casey says. "You jumped on at precisely the right time."

"I don't stick around long. There are groups who have... issues with me being in the area." Jane says.

"So I've heard," Fayçal says, frowning slightly. "You've got, ah, quite a reputation."

Casey, remembering the tea would be well brewed by now, starts pouring everyone's cups. "Rumours evolve and spread quickly in London. By now the most vile of the lot probably spreads the rumour that Jane ran from London and created a colony that cannibalizes infants."

"It's easier for everyone if I keep my visits short, at the moment." Jane says stiffly. "So, Fayçal. Are you prepared to witness the sights of the furthest Zee?"

"I'm about as prepared as I think I could be," Fayçal says sheepishly, and takes the cup of tea in their non-injured hand.

Casey is quiet, casting a brief glance at Jane before looking back to Fay. "What stories have you heard about the risks that could occur at zee?" They ask.

"Well..." Fayçal says, considering the question a moment. "I've heard of many different kinds of sea-monsters, and a place where everything talks, and some place up north with deadly cold. I've also heard a great deal of stories of people going mad out there."

"All true. Some of the more straightforward things, really. Madness is a genuine threat. The Zee is vast and dark; our lights can only define so much of it at any time, and there are many things out there happy to snuff those lights out if they take notice. I've had a great deal of experience and practice sailing safely, but you must understand: you will need to learn how to wrestle with and overcome your terror if you're going to spend any length of time at Zee."

"That is precisely why I'm not a zailor," Casey says, pointing at Jane. "The sense of terror. I've been at zee, to the Iron Republic, but that's an experience best done once."

Jane nods solemnly at Casey. "I've learned to deal with it, but I'm sure you've heard the stories of how I must be a madwoman, doing the things I do, going the places I go." She grins at Fay. "Perhaps I am. But I've learned a great deal. I've gained quite a lot. You could too, in time."

"For my sake I certainly hope so," Fayçal says with a laugh. They take a sip of their tea, and look back up at Jane. "Are you leaving later today? I'm assuming you're not staying in London long."

Jane rummages in their coat for a fine-looking pocketwatch of some silvery metal; it seems to be made of proper clockwork, not of moon-pearls. "Hm... Tomorrow morning. I've got to give my existing crew time to enjoy themselves, after all."

"Any longer and certain unsavoury individuals will catch wind of her arrival here," Casey says. "But still enough time to try to relax and breathe for a moment... if you need me to hand off some information to Roland, I can do that tonight."

"Oh, yes, thank you for the reminder." Jane nods appreciatively. She goes to one of the cupboards, open it, removes a panel in the back, and then removes a panel at the bottom of that, then catches the sorrow-spider that leaps out of it with one hand; it's tossed to the floor and crushed underfoot a moment later, before she finally retrieves a small water-proof sack that seems just the right size to contain a journal of modest size. "Nothing he hasn't anticipated, I should think, but still useful." She tosses the sack gently to Casey.

Roland's office was one of the most luxurious in the city, provided your standards were nuanced. There were no particularly gaudy displays, noting that, at a glance, would speak to opulent wealth... but simply existing within it for long enough would allow anyone with the eye to realize how comfortable the space was, how perfectly adjusted the feel of the space and its contents was, and how quietly stupendous the contents within were.

After knocking on the door and letting themselves in, Casey finds that both Roland and Elizabeth are already there. Roland is at work, hunched slightly over the desk as he reads reports and writes notes, while Elizabeth has set herself up in the corner with an easel. Dressed in a manner that would be scandalous to a stranger but which Casey knows from experience is simply what Elizabeth finds comfortable, she works steadily at a canvas, her eyes lovingly examining Roland every so often.

Casey has found themself settling on the chaise-lounge in the corner after hanging their coat up. "Jane acquired a fresh new crewperson for her ship... hopefully they'll last." They remark, flipping through but not really observing her notes closely. They're not one to follow zee life too closely. "She sends her love too."

That lights up Elizabeth's face. "If you manage to catch her before she leaves again, give her mine as well? Hopefully we'll be able to arrange for her to actually come into the city next time."

Roland looks up and smiles. "Oh, good. Has she been keeping well?"

"About as well as one can when living on a ship," They reply, standing back up to hand Roland the notes. "Whatever is in here was well protected behind several layers of security." Casey glances at Elizabeth with a silly grin. "Does she have any secret family recipes she'd like to keep safe?"

"Knowing our family, I doubt it." Elizabeth's brow wrinkles for a moment, before returning the silly grin with one of her own. "She might have learned a thing or two of her own out on the Zee, though. Perhaps we can convince her to make some fish next time."

Roland sorts through the notes, then stands up, walking to a map of the Zee with them in hand. "These are supply lines and patrol routes for the Khanate. Places to avoid and blind spots to get through. If what I have in mind long-term will work, this is important."

The Dire Warning rests at dock. Most of its crew are out reveling; only a handful are at watch. They nod to Casey as they arrive, clearly familiar with them. The smell of darkdrop coffee wafts from the brew-up they have going.

"Captain's belowdeck. She'll be glad to see you before we ship out."

Beaming, Casey gives a courteous nod to the crew and a little wave. "Many thanks!" They call out as they stride aboard, making their way below deck.

The ship used to intimidate Casey only slightly, knowing there are far more hidden traps and defense mechanisms than one could immediately see. Regardless, they're at Jane's door in moments, and they knock thrice upon it.

There's a sound of heavy bolts sliding into the door, before a tiny slit opens near the top.

"Oh! One moment, Casey."

It takes several seconds for Jane to disengage the rest of the traps and locks, before the door cracks open. Jane is in her nightwear, her prosthetic detached for the evening. Casey can see a new scar along Jane's collarbone. "Come on in. I was just updating my charts."

Jane's room is somewhere between a fortress and museum. She carefully locks the door behind Casey. "Elizabeth is well, I hope?"

"As always," Casey responds, removing their coat and setting it aside. "Working on a new painting last we met. You'll have to come back when it's finished."

Their eyes wander the room, trying to pick out what's new. Nothing seems to catch their interest until they look at Jane. "Hopefully you haven't had too much trouble.."

"I've been well enough." Jane says, rubbing her shoulder where skin met the prosthetic's mount as she double checks her charts. She always seems at least a little self-conscious around Casey. "Maybe next time I'm in port I can sneak out to see her."

" That can definitely be arranged," Casey says, grinning. "We can all have a meal together and try to catch up! Make it a family affair. I have ways of sneaking around," They move to sit near her--just arm's length, as they sense she seems cautious, and continue. "I make a great body guard in a pinch too, should it come to that."

"That would be lovely." She does turn and grin at the bodyguard comment; absolutely towering over Casey and with the kind of build one associates with the battle-nuns of Abbey Rock, she doesn't seem the sort to need a bodyguard. "I have little to fear if you're watching my back." That part's completely sincere, at least. Jane takes a seat and lets her arm rest near Casey.

Their hand moves to rest stop her arm, then down to clasp her hand. "I've missed you," they say quietly. "Your reasons for staying away are valid, but the city feels strange without you here."

Casey glances at her. "Do you ever consider staying for good?"

"Of course. How could I not?" Jane's eye squints as she frowns. "But it would mean putting Elizabeth, and both you and Roland, in danger. Its easier for everyone if my enemies think I'm already out of the way. Besides, the pull it would take to make them forget what I've done to them..." Jane leaves it unsaid. Casey already knows a couple of the figures who would prefer Jane never step foot in London again.

"I'm capable of dispatching the risk," They say. There is a hardness to their expression, an almost too-direct way of looking at Jane to indicate they're serious, and then it fades. "Again... only if it comes to that. I've my own enemies to track and monitor."

"I appreciate your capability, but I have no wish to force you to bring it to bear. As you say, you have problems of your own." Jane squeezes Casey's hand. "Perhaps we'll see. Time might make them feel they have better things to focus their attention on, though my encounters with Hell's ships at zee suggest they're willing to bear the grudge for as long as it takes."

Casey sighs, leaning up against Jane's shoulder. "I hope your tiny new recruit can withstand it. Hell will remain here for long after we're all gone."

"Considering some of the things Roland has tasked me with finding out, he may have a plan for that. As for my recruit... We'll see." Jane grins. "I've got a feeling they have quite a respectable amount of resolve." Jane's hand lightly grips Casey's waist.

"With the size of their overcoat, I imagine it'd have to be a lot of resolve, I mean... what else would that, uh.." their thought trails off when they catch Jane's eye.

"Conceal." Casey says. "...how late are you planning on staying docked?"

"Til' morning. We have quite a few hours."

Casey awakened groggily at the gentle shaking of their shoulder.

"I'm shipping out soon, dear. I've got tea ready, but it's time you got back on shore, I think." Jane had set a steaming cup of tea next to the bed; the good captain was looking perhaps a bit disheveled, her unbuttoned coat still open and her pants a bit loose, but she also wore a gentle smile. To Casey, it might as well be the only thing Jane needed to wear.

"Mmm. Don't you have time for-"

"I don't." Jane said, her face growing a bit stern. "And you know that well." She sat on the edge of the bed, cradled the back of Casey's head, and pulled them into a deep kiss. Once their lips released each other, she whispered. "Another time, I will. But we both have things to see to. "

Casey did their best to delay. Underwear was lost, and all-too-rapidly found. A second cup of tea was requested. Finally, a mostly-clothed Casey was gently but firmly guided off the ship by Jane, even as she attempted to stifle giggles at the increasingly unlikely efforts of her lover.

#fallen london #rp log #words words words

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witchyflapjack · 7 years

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Witch Tips - BoS/Grimoire

Okay, so if you’re like me and you like all of your stuff to be as perfectly neat and organized and aesthetically pleasing as possible, it can be kinda difficult or seem hella daunting to get your book of shadows going. Here are some ideas to help you get yourself more comfortable with your witchy documents:

Start with an ordinary notebook. I have two that are fairly small, almost moleskine/typical personal journal sized that I can tuck in my bag so I always have something with me. Use this to doodle sigils, work on spells, come up with ritual ideas, record introspections, general thoughts, or offerings for deities. Whatever part of your craft that you are interested in and want to draft, do that here- once everything is down and you’ve worded it or drawn it exactly as you like it, then it can be copied into your final book.

It doesn’t need to look “witchy.” Your (for lack of a better term) ‘final copy’ BoS/grimoire doesn’t need to be black or grey or covered in the triple moon or pentacles or any other stereotypically witchy aesthetic (but if that’s what you like, you do you). It could be a regular Staples notebook, or binder. Buy one that has a print you like, buy one that’s completely naked and decorate it however you feel it should be decorated- or, leave it completely naked. It’s up to you. This is a book by you, for you, and represents your craft. Don’t feel pressured to have it look any way other than how you want it to.

Consider how you want it to look inside. I know that something I’ve struggled with is that I write neater on line paper, but I don’t like the lines of notebook paper to be coming through my sigils or drawings of crystals or herbs I may have. I haven’t started my “formal” or “final” BoS yet because I still haven’t quite found a compromise for that. If lines through drawings don’t bother you, consider a notebook or a 3-ring binder (I’ll discuss that in more detail next) as a possible vehicle for your BoS. If lines bother you, consider something like a sketchbook, or again, a 3-ring binder, which brings me to my next point...

Think about organization. Again, this is something you just have to feel out for yourself. There are people who fill their BoS without organization, and just feel out or remember from use where certain subjects are in the pages. I am a huge stickler for structure and finding things easily (I mean have you noticed how many tags I use on this blog?) I would say in that regard a 3-ring binder might be a huge lifesaver- first of all, you can get them either hardcover or soft cover, they come in different sizes and colors, and most are easily decorate-able. They can offer more protection for the contents, plus with loose leaf and rings, you can arrange and rearrange your BoS as it pleases you. If you create a section on crystals and learn something a month later, you can easily insert your new page into the section. Some people prefer chronology instead of subject, so their BoS will be carefully dated and not segmented by topic. Again, there is no wrong way to do this.

Building your Book or Grimoire or whatever you decide to call it is a personal and ongoing experience- there is no wrong way to do it, and no one can tell you how to best make it, because it is unique to you and your craft. Hope this was helped, its supposed to serve as a good jumping off point for any/all beginner witches. Feel free to reach out with any questions, suggestions or concerns!

-Witchy Pancake

#witch tips #witchcraft #bos #book of shadows #grimoire #witchy pancake has spoken #witchblr

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pumpkinswirls · 7 years

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STOP UPDATING PUMPKIN

Also along with a blog revamp i think I'm gonna redesign or just create a toonsona... 'Oh what about Pumpkinfluff?' I'm glad you asked! Oh you didn't? Well...I'm just talking to myself then. Pumpkinfluff is well...maybe just an oc...ergh since she represents the first toon I created in TTR but decided to create others and forget about her loool. Plus I feel like a cat doesn't truly represent me. I'm more cuddly/adorable/cute/friendly/can be bossy at times. so maybe a bun...if we're sticking with toontown toons. Plus they are a fav...(I still don't know) The name of them will be Pumpkin lol. So I guess you'll have to call Pumpkinfluff by her full name or I might just change it to Ellie... And with a delicious new info page means new revamped info...or updated and neater. Also I'll bring a delicious info segment were maybe called Fun Fact Fridays were I'll give you guys a fact about depending on an ask...on that day.

#the full title was gonna be #stop updating pumpkin no one cares #but I feel like some of you do care #my brain just wants me to be upset #and I got a headache #pumpkin updates #long post?

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kayawagner · 6 years

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The Princess Bride RPG

OK, so to be fair I gave The Princess Bride Role Playing Game the fastest of once overs before discarding it. Remember that I am a Rolemaster GM at heart and it was fairly obvious that The Princess Bride was not going to give me bloody disembowelments and detailed character creation. It didn’t look like there was going to be a much necromancy going on either, which is a current ongoing discussion over on my own blog.

On the other hand, if I put my own wants and prejudices to one side I think The Princess Bride deserves a fair review.

The usual caveat is that I have only read the freebie Quick Start Rules and you can download them for free from RPGNow.

So obviously this game is derived from the 1987 movie of the same game and much of the art comes from the movie. I think this is a good thing in multiple ways. I like the movies with tie in games. It helps everybody envision the same settings, key NPCs and even magical effects. If you haven’t seen the movie there is a book of the same name which came first. I confess I have not read either the book nor seen the movie.

So The Princess Bride is FUDGE based, which is a good thing, but also uses a 3d6 to FUDGE Dice conversion so you can play without the dedicated +/- FUDGE dice. I think this is a good touch. For a quick start book especially, taking the weird dice requirement away makes the game much more accessible. I used to play Champions/Hero System a lot and I know that there is a very pleasing feel to 3d6 and the 18 is rare enough to have the special feeling but common enough to happen at least once a session at least.

The writers have gone with just three attributes, twenty six skills, fifteen gifts and ten inconveniences (faults). I like skill driven characters but I cannot help but feel that just three attributes is too few. It is not that I feel that more attributes add more to a game mechanically but in differentiating one PC from the next they can play an important role. It is not possible to play someone who is naive AND observant in The Princess Bride as both a single attribute overs all aspects of intelligences, alertness and perception. On the plus side in describing how the attributes work and their ingame effects are directly related to the movie characters as in “Your character can have a high Body level and simply be very fit, but not necessarily huge: like Westley, for example.”

There is a skill in The Princess Bride called Blave. I had to google the word as I didn’t actually know what it meant. I was going to criticise the game for using such an obscure word for such a common skill. It turns out that every single definition of Blave relates directly back to The Princess Bride and quotes the book or movie. So this is a setting related word. If you are interested the Blave skill relates to gambling and bluffing and likewise Jouking relates to dodging.

So here is the first bit that I found truly cringeworthy. The Princess Bride has renamed FUDGE or FATE points to Grandpa, wait! Points. To quote the game “So if the dice just killed your character, there will probably be a moment of silence at the table. At that point, any player can say, “Grandpa, wait!” and push a token toward the GM representing a Grandpa Wait point.” I had to read that bit over just to make sure I had it right.

The Grandpa Wait points are a simple renaming of the standard FATE point mechanic in every other way except the cringy name.

The combat system as presented is very neat and tidy. I don’t really know the world of The Princess Bride but there are absolutely no mentions of non human foes or natural weapons so no guard dogs or other beasties. This is just the quickstart booklet so those rules could easily be in the full rules. I do like the damage track method of recording damage. As a way of recording damage it very neatly allows for escalating severity of wounds. The lightest wound is “It’s just a scratch” but once you have had that three times it automatically escalates to hurt, very hurt and so on. It is possible with a big weapon and a great roll to go from untouched to “incapacitated” which is one of the things I have always liked about my ‘home system’.

Up until this point in the rules everything in the rule book has been adjective based, skills are listed as Great, Good, Fair and Poor etc. When Situational Rolls are introduced these lead with numerical values -4 to +4. So for now it is numbers first. It then tries to massage the adjective labels into this system and it feels really square peg/round whole. I know that Situational Rolls are core FUDGE but in the core rulebook they get just a single paragraph and sits alongside tossing a coin or rolling a single d6 as aids for the GM to get random answers. I found that by leading with the numeric scale when everything else had been adjective based creates the impression that the adjectives don’t really work. The description of the adjective system then looks a bit laboured. If writers had stuck with the adjective system right from the off then this section would have been neater and less clunky.

On a personal note, I don’t think that resolving things by dice roll is to be encouraged. What I mean by that is; if a player asks ‘Are there any innocent bystanders on the street?’ then that is a potentially really important question. The Princess Bride says “You should usually roll them in the open, except in cases where it might reveal more information than the party would logically have.” So instantly the characters know that whether the person is there or not is just chance, but the next time if you say “Yes, there is someone standing on the corner.” They know you didn’t roll for that so it must be important. Logically then you would sometimes create red herrings of false information to stop your players inferring from what you rolled and what wasn’t rolled. So now you are sometimes rolling the dice when you know the answer to fool your players, sometimes you are rolling the dice because you don’t know the answer and sometimes you are not rolling the dice because they may come up with a wrong answer and the players will have seen the result. That last one is something like Player: “What are the chances of there being a horse I can hire?” Dice roll -4, GM: “Yes, there is a really impressive stallion just being walked out of the livery.” Player: “Really?!!” To be fair the rules do work but I personally do not think anyone should be rolling dice in front of the players. It is the GMs role to create a believable world and chucking the dice around does not do that.

The remainder of the The Princess Bride quickstart pdf is the a sample adventure and pregen characters. That I am not going to go into as I don’t want to give anything away but only to say that it remains true to the setting material as far as I can tell and is clearly aimed as a first adventure and new players and GMs.

As a final note I would like to point out that this looks like it is going to be a really popular game with its target audience. The kickstarter has over 1,000 backers and has raised over $78,000. You can be fairly certain that any problems with the game are more likely with me than with the game, if you are part of the target audience. There is just not quite enough disembowelling for my tastes.

Dark Fantasy

FATE review

Lamentations of the Flame Princess–A few thoughts

The Princess Bride RPG published first on https://supergalaxyrom.tumblr.com

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josephesquivelblog · 6 years

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Smart Ways To Organize Your Bedroom Closet

Clothes can be easily addictive and get out of hand. For most, closet storage is never enough considering the world’s possession of clothes you have. And for people like me who are always on the look for trendy stuff, it just gets worse. When it comes to organizing your closet, we know the drill. You start organizing—on one of those days you feel the need to keep your life on track—then after a search for that dinner dress, you are back to square one. I can barely keep count of how many times I had to arrange my closet within a week. However, with the hustle and bustle of city life, surely who can find the time to keep organizing their closet every other time?

Yet, good management of your closet is essential for your sanity. If you’ve ever spent an hour looking for an outfit to an event which you are already late for, then this is for you. You should actually get excited because organizing your closet means you are going to find everything much easier. We are going to share ways in which you can get that space organized regardless of the size. Though, it is worth mentioning, before you start organizing ensure that you are dealing with the root of the problem. If you are in the habit of buying clothes without decluttering, then you probably need to work on your habits first. Here are some ideas you can pick and choose from.

Tools you need

Organizing your closet should not be an activity you do after a long day of work. For you to get a good system of organization, prepping and intention is key. Set aside a day where it is just going to be about the closet. After that, you can now get the right instruments needed for the job. You don’t have to worry though; they are things that you probably own. For example: you need trash bags to get rid of clothes and accessories that are worn out beyond use or repair, sturdy bags that will be used to keep clothes for donation, wash basket for dirty clothes and those that need to go the tailor, and a clutter basket where you are going to place small useful things like assorted receipts you find in pockets, paper clips to avoid wasting time putting them aside.

Sort through the clothes

After having the necessary tools, you can now sort out through your clothes. You will need to completely empty the closet. The next step is the most challenging for me because I like to hold on things that I think I may need one day. Decluttering is essential for an organized closet because it gives room to the clothes you actually wear and the ones you are dying to buy. When it comes to the closet, we all need a tip or two. It happens so slowly; you just buy a pair of trousers, a couple of shoes there and before you know it you barely have a place to keep your clean laundry. Therefore it is probably time to get rid of those clothes that are no longer relevant to who you are and what you do. If it hard doing it, think of the people that can benefit from the clothes that you barely wear and need.

Hijack a friend

Go through decluttering process with a friend whose opinion you trust. You might need another pair of eyes and a glass of wine—really! When debating whether to keep or toss a cloth. Not to mention you will probably have a lot of fun doing it and as simple as that, you have changed a hectic job to a fun one.

Clean the closet

Since organizing the closet is not something we do regularly, an impressive amount of dirt would have collected in that space. This is, therefore, an opportunity for you to clean up. It might seem like a no-brainer at all but a clean closet instantly looks great. Therefore, take the advantage of having an empty closet and give it a thorough cleaning, the result will be worth the effort. You can start by dusting the whole place the vacuum if possible. Then use your all-purpose cleaner and a clean rag to wipe down the surfaces. At this point, you are half way done organizing your stuff.

Closet storage

Now that you have a clear, clean space, it is easier to organize how you are going to store your clothes. It is very important to get the storage system right so that everything may have a place and be easily accessible when in frequent use. It is not as hard as it sounds; basically look for what works for you. Plus you are in luck because there are various great options for closet storage solutions. In the closet, it is about maximizing the space you already have.

Think of investing in double hang, all you’ll need to do is bump up your current rod and you will have twice the amount of storage space. Invest in good hangers, every type of cloth from blazers to dresses have their own particular hangers, although that can be very overwhelming and costly. Therefore, you can simply invest in a good set of similar hangers. They will give your closet a clean organized look. Consider getting baskets for storing clothes that are out of season and remember to label them. If you already have shelves, get shelf dividers because they make your clothes look a lot neater. Basically, there’s so much you can do to your closet and manipulate it to save your needs in the best possible way

After taking using impressive hours getting your closet organized, it is only fair for you to keep it managed. This also helps in your morning preparation before you go to work. You will have an easy time with a clean organized space, frankly, we all need that. Therefore get in the habit of going through the closet and complete a quick makeover probably once a month.

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