independent selective hockey / contemporary fiction themes centric multi-muse blog written by coral. 28+. she/her. established october 2025. most threads timeline takes place in modern-day settings.
blog is text & roleplay heavy. i rarely reblog graphics and will be using minimal formatting in rp. inbox is forever open to asks & ims are open for plotting and ooc chats!
blog themes: family issues, mental health, being marginalized, being persecuted.
blogroll: nefastium
NAVIGATION
[ connections ]
[ muses ]
*rafayel qi ; 24 ; he/him ; bi ; painter/serial killer ; love & deepspace
shane hollander ; 30 ; he/him ; gay ; centre nhl hockey star ; game changers
*fabian salah ; 31 ; he/him ; gay ; musician ; game changers
dallas kent ; 24 ; he/him ; gay ; centre nhl hockey star ; game changers
*john landry ; 38 ; he/him ; aroace ; agent / hockey coach ; game changers
rose landry ; 27 ; she/her ; lesbian ; movie star ; game changers
wyatt hayes ; 28 ; he/him ; het ; goalie nhl hockey star ; game changers
chris chow ; 21 ; he/him ; pan ; goalie ngl hockey star ; check, please!
jack zimmermann ; 23 ; he/him ; gay ; centre nhl hockey star ; check, please!
[ guidelines ]
01. i don't have many rules here. do not be rude. do not vague post. do not cause unnecessary drama and call-outs. this is a dead-dove: do not eat friendly blog.
02. i appreciate if there are occasional signs of interest such as liking posts, replying to ooc posts, etc, even if we do not talk often or have a thread going-on. naturally, i will extend the same courtesy.
03. plot driven. i am able to wing it, but plotting our muses dynamics / discussing possible interactions, are highly preferred and i will make the effort to reply those threads faster to push the plot forwards.
04. muse =/= mun. just because some of my muses have naturally aggressive natures, skewed morals, and generally don't conform to human morals, the writing of it is intentional and does not mean the mun agrees with their decisions.
05. i am open to all kinds of romantic ships, but i will decline any explicit smut for m x f ships for personal reasons. however, i am happy to freely ship with muses who already have a canon partner like shane & fabian. do keep in mind that it's possible our portrayals might not match each other's, which is completely okay!
07. i love having multiple threads with the same partner. this is, in fact, encouraged! i do not mind if people decide to drop threads if interests have moved on. we can always start a new one.
content warnings: mentions of r.a.pe, misogyny, homophobia, abusive behaviour, and bigotry.
obviously, the portrayal of a character like dallas is intentionally written to be focused on his toxic and abusive behaviours, that he is not a good person, but does not reflect the mun's personal views. if dallas bothers you as a character, feel free to block his tags and/or not interact with his character.
dallas is a closeted gay, misogynistic and homophobic bigot. he inherits these values and belief from his military father, who is away from home three quarters of the year, and his conversative aligned mother.
dallas was very different as a child; just like any children between ages 7 ~ 14, he just wants to make friends, but slowly realizes that he's marginalized for his acceptance ( or lack of disagreement towards ) non-heteronormative social behaviours. he changes himself so that he could feel belonged. being proudly and loudly misogynistic and homophobic was like slapping a badge on himself that says 'i'm one of you'
he does not realize that he is gay. the thought of it disgusts him, and he knew what his father would think of him if he knew, so he'd went out of his way to host parties and surround himself with beautiful women so that everyone knows that he is undoubtedly, undeniably straight. besides, men with many women surrounding him were seen as 'successful men', and his control over women were proof of toxic masculinity. when in truth, he does not even like women ( hence why he resents them / finds them irritating, but he can't figure out why )
at some point, he has a crush on troy barrett after they became good friends. these feelings were neither acknowledged or realized from dallas' side. he felt betrayed when troy seems to drift aware from him spiritually to side with the 'losers' or 'gays' in the hockey league. he thought that troy would be his confidante forever. this quietly led him to become even more abusive towards the women interested in him as a coping mechanism. from troy's side, it may seem like dallas betrayed him first. but it was a long time coming.
i'm finally happy with the horror/fantasy blog at nefastium. i've been exhausted so i haven't set up my historical blog yet, but feel free to follow the fantasy horror multi if you're into darker tones. it's also completely okay to just stay mutuals here !! i just want to keep a clean dash for myself & mutuals. a lot of muses from that blog are non-humans or they are humans with high fantasy lore.
although fabian was more well-known for having "feminine" interests, he has other "manlier" hobbies on the side that he doesn't really tell anyone, such as motorbikes, skate boarding, and he also boxes as a sport.
fabian is, on principal, a very unemotional person. he's logically driven and carries himself well under heavy pressure. very little things genuinely bothers him, so he has a lot of capacity to shoulder someone else's sadness. he's often the one who listens and accesses situations well, but
sometimes he makes the worst decision possible and needs someone to knock sense into his head ( i usually write him having an on and off situationship thing with claude, he doesn't break up with claude bc claude is his type unfortunately, but fab also knows that claude is so bad for him ).
fab can be a pest and he's insanely petty in a few ways, though it's usually harmless, he can do a variety of things - fix cars, bikes, piping, and he's good in chemistry, too! ( developed due to a need when he used to be homeless ) but if he lowkey hates your guts and or finds you rude he'll just stand aside like 🧍 and feign uselessness as he watches you struggle.
far too old to care about fandom opinions i am an adult with a *sees a take* hm. never mind actually. i am in fact so blessed to have a huge brain and correct inconsequential opinions on fictional characters. there but for the grace of god go i
trying to set up my blogs + reply to all my drafts but my weekend has been so eventful, and im soooooo exhausted. 😔 wish i know how people go out all day and then spam rps at night. i just melt into my bed and read something if ive been out all day.
What is he planning to do? A great question. Ilya's not even sure he knows himself. But the wheels are turning, and surely, he'll think of something... he hopes.
His gaze follows where Fabian gestures, and he sees them: the girl, her boyfriend, and her ex. In an instant, he can tell that things could go south very quickly. The two groups are in a sort of standoff formation, the girl leaning into her current boyfriend (?) as he and her ex glare daggers at one another.
What's the plan? God, there is none. But Ilya can't just stand there and watch them wreck the place.
"Fuck — okay, call cops and stay back," he says to Fabian.
Then he turns and approaches the scene. Shane is so going to kill him for this.
"Um... sure." That was his plan from the start. Fabian had no intentions of involving himself in a heroic attempt to save a damsel in distress. ( He can't deny that he's tempted to, though, but for god's sake, it's the 21st century ). He fishes out his phone and makes a quick report - despite all the complains he had about Toronto, their public safety department had been much more reliable and trustworthy than the one in Halifax.
Slapping his phone shut after he gives them their address, he turns to Rozanov, "Relax, okay?" He reassures him, "Things like these... they happen frequently in these bars. Don't worry too much - you look like you're about to hyperventilate." He thought that Rozanov would stay put right next to him until the cops arrive, but his eyes inadvertently widen when the russian stood up and approaches the scene. "Hey, where are you going, Rozanov?" He almost climbs out from their hiding place to tail after the man, but his line of sight was broken by another thug falling right between them. "Rozanov!" He had no idea why a foreigner would risk themselves for a fight that wasn't his, in a country that wasn't his.
"I am getting too fucking old for this," Ilya mutters, waving off the statement. Nevertheless, he glances around through the dark, scanning the scene. Now that his eyes are a little better adjusted, he can finally get a lay of the land. He sees movement everywhere and from every direction. Those who aren't in the midst of a brawl are fleeing the place, anyone and anything in their way be damned. When he sees a group of frantic young people headed vaguely in their direction, he quickly pulls Fabian out of their path by his shoulders.
Then he lets out a little huff as his gaze continues scanning the bar. "Where is girl? The one whose asshole ex is fucking shit up?" He doesn't know her personally, but he feels that the top priority is making sure she's safe. Once she's good, then they can deal with the rest.
Well... this is getting out of hand. He did not expect the thugs to take it so seriously. The girl, honestly, didn't have a personality strong enough to warrant a fight over her. She's just there, being defended by her current boyfriend ( or so he assumes ). Sometimes, he truly makes the worst decisions - he can't even defend himself considering his dating history - a broke-ass film maker who leeches off his money and his place to stay. Before he could protest against Rozanov's words he's jerked to the side violently as someone breaks a table with their weight.
"She's... there." He didn't know her either, outside of a few glances at the bar. She's a regular. Probably sparked a fight between different gangs for dating one rivalry after the last. "With her boyfriend ... I think? What are you planning to do?" However, as if refusing to let go of the grudge he held against Rozanov earlier, he gives the russian a soft jap at his chest. "Just in case you're unaware, I am 4 years older than you. It's a bit too early for you to claim the title."
gifts rafayel a dreamcatcher. a smile accenting his eyes, he places a soft kiss on his temple. " happy birthday, rafayel. " ( from zayne )
"You're late," he stares at the dream catcher as he leans backward into the doctor's arms, "My birthday was a week ago." He knows that It's a lie, of course. He doesn't expect Zayne to forget, being as precise as he was. But it's always fun to mess with someone as serious as Zayne. A light, musical laughter leaves his throat as he watches the doctor's knotting eyebrows as he process his speech before connecting the dots, realizing where it all leads: a leg-pull.
But before Zayne could say anything about it, or lecture him about being immature, a finger reaches up to hook the other's tie and drags him down until their lips touched. "I like it when you're caught off guard." He kisses him on the lips deeply, nothing too lasting, brief enough to catch a whiff of Zayne's cologne. "It makes the game feel rewarding." ... @maligns
𝒊𝒇 𝒊 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊'𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒉𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏 , 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆 ? a slow blink is earned , then another as he processes what raf tells him. there is no fear that touches the blonde's gaze as he peers up at the other man. confusion , yes , but fear ? no , none of the sort. he said he trusted him – that doesn't change now. lemurians … he has to admit he's grateful to know raf is not a vampire , but he's not sure his acceptance would change.
he doesn't answer at first as he contemplates what to say. he simply turns raf's hand so that he may press a kiss to his palm. it is tender &* loving , encapsulating all that carlisle is &* will ever be. accepting. it is why the churchgoers love him – he sees them &* does not balk away from their plights or judge them for their sins. he listens , smiles , &* assures them. ❛ it does not make you immune to their attacks , though. turning others has not been their motive. ❜ a sigh against rafayel's skin has blonde brows pinching together just a bit. ❛ i do not wish to lose you. ❜
Silence followed the clergyman's words. It was so damn deafening that Rafayel could almost hear the gears turning in his mind. He'd imagined what it might be like when this day came. He hadn't fully trusted Carlisle despite what he persuaded himself during his times of solitude. He trusted him, maybe, in terms of defending his back. He trusted him not to stab him in the back when he was at his most vulnerable. But all those assumptions came at the cost of Carlisle remaining ignorant of Lemurian history. Letting go of a secret he'd been silently keeping for two decades felt like finally unsheathing a blade and handing it to someone you assumed wouldn't just stab you.
He inhales. Exhales. Watches as Carlisle turns his hand to press another kiss. His heart flutters, and he tries to keep its thumping from rising to his throat. Time seems to slow when Carlisle utters the words: I do not wish to lose you.
Rafayel purses his lips and thinks of all the times he's said them to someone else - an elder, a teacher, a parental figure. All of them gone now. "I'm glad we can set our differences aside." Despite his inner turmoil, he replies in perfectly coherent speech, almost polite, even. He feels the burn of desire to pull Carlisle into a hug, but a part of him sees Carlisle as someone to be worshipped from afar, whose light should never be tainted by hands that are impure. For the sake of that belief, he resists. "I know. It would be nice to have a doctor among us, wouldn't it?" He jokes, empty laughter punching out of his chest. "Even if it's someone who didn't know how to treat Lemurians, they should at least know how to treat humans. But the church invests too much in weaponry rather than medicine." He turns his gaze back to the map - Carlisle's sweat and blood - not realizing that his fingers have closed around the clergyman's hand, refusing to let go. "Now back to where we left off..."
✘ ♕ ✘ The surprise from Fabian was almost comical to Ilya. He was well aware of his reputation with in the hockey world, and the general populace at large. Ilya Rozanov was loud, abrasive, cocky, and not easy to deal with in the least. Much of that reputation was due to his own actions fueling it. He never minded the role he had and playing it up for the public. In truth, though, Ilya was much more than just the "bad boy of hockey". He genuinely cared about his team and each of the players on it. So long as they were deserving of said care. And Ryan? He was definitely deserving.
At the request, the Russian pulled out another cigarette without hesitation, and even held up his lighter to light it once Fabian had it. "Ice," he corrected with an amused smirk. "We don't play on a field. We play on ice." As if that was the important part of what Fabian had said. "Yes, I taunt people. I can be an asshole a lot of the time. Probably. But Price is still on my team. Friends? I don't know. He is very quiet a lot of the time. But yes, I like him." Blue eyes narrowed at the other, though his smirk remained just as playful. "You think hockey players are all jerks? That we all hate each other?"
That correction brings a lift of an eyebrow. "Is there a difference?" He knew that there were three types of hockey - perhaps more, but it's not his business - inkwell hues meet Ilya's dark hazels. There's a flicker of surprise that flashes across the musician's eyes. Oh, well, how gentlemanly. He tries not to compare Ilya to one of those from his teens who broke his stuff because they thought it was 'girly' and therefore 'gross'. He always wanted to ask: 'girly & gross'? Do you even like women? Or all you ever think of are burly men who met your own standards? But for the sake of peace in that forsaken household he'd kept his mouth shut.
"I suppose he'd be the only one who knows that wouldn't he?" And he wouldn't hold it against Ryan for keeping things to himself. Fabian has a lot of secrets of himself to keep as well. However, his eyes snap up at Ilya, gaze sharp and piercing. Not because he's mad but ... it's because Ilya's not wrong. "It's ... complicated." He says, taking a sip from the cigarette. "But with hockey, it's easier to just say that you hate it so you're left alone. Or explain yourself and be met with endless cycles of explanations by people who demand you prove yourself. Maybe you'll understand that." Half of that bitterness was owed to his family. As long as his parents and sister were convinced that Fabian hated hockey, they'll just treat him as someone invisible. If he'd go about it any other way... "I'm just not keen into explaining myself to anyone other than myself. And I suspose that's fair. It's my life." He pushes himself off the wall. "I know what people like to think about me, even if I refuse to acknowledge it. But not all my hobbies are 'girly', you know. For instance..." He fishes out a bundle of keys from his pockets. "I've always liked motorcycles. I like to feel the wind through my hair and my face when I drift." He spins them around his finger. "How about feeling compensated?" He offers.
Ilya quickly rereads Fabian's messages before sliding his phone into his pocket and springing into action. His eyes haven't adjusted to the darkness nearly enough, but it doesn't stop him from swiftly racing off in the direction he'd last seen Fabian. Of course, there's a lot of bumping into people and things in the process, so it's not exactly a clean escape.
But somehow, he manages to catch up, and when he does, he hisses through the dim and din of people talking over one another.
Fabian feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns to look behind. He looked relieved to see that Rozanov was catching up to him. "I thought you were a regular of these kind of..." he can't help but blinks, "...scenarios? You have a reputation, Rozanov." It's true - he'd expect Ilya to be an ally ( or a scapegoat, but like hell he'll ever admit to that ). "I um ... well," he dodges someone's arm and narrowly avoided a table sailing through the air. "I haven't thought about it this far. Maybe we'll call the cops and pretend it's them who started this farce?" Like the Kingfisher would ever realize that their star musician was behind the entire uproar. They'd have a list of people to suspect - or to blame - and Fabian is at the very bottom of that list.
He's turned off the switch at the bar at this time. A couple of terrified screams echoes the walls. The thugs who'd came crashing the part to harass some former girlfriend of their leader starts tripping over one another for some reason, Fabian can't say he's not behind it.
( text: rosanov ) follow me or they'll catch up to y---
( text: rosanov ) nevermind, i'm sure your medics can fix your face if anything happens.
( text: rosanov ) kill the switch
( text: rosanov ) beat up the thugs
( text: rosanov ) flee
( text: rosanov ) i'm not having these types of people ruining my bars
