#but then so much of it is just. overwhelmingly bad. i will never not find that ridiculously long hat fucking hilarious

[tyrantisterror]

At Sea Without a Map pt. 20

Perhaps unsurprisingly, you feel overwhelmingly concerned with Calibani's well-being. Even as you're pulled in three other directions, the drive to go to check on her is stronger than all of them combined. A good 38% or so of your mind asks you whether you might be getting too attached to this woman-who's-actually-a-monster that you've only known for, what, two days or so? It adds that you should be careful since you've been alone for a while. You're vulnerable, you need to take care of yourself.

You tell that part of your mind to fuck off. Well over half of you thinks it's full of shit anyway.

You find your sea-monster predator-turned-friend? leaning against the side of your boat and resting her face on her hand, her eyes scanning the horizon with a troubled expression on her face. Immediately you feel your concern is justified, and you don't even hide the haste in your step as you close the distance between the two of you. "Calibani, what's wrong?"

Her eyes go wide when she hears your voice, and she hastily puts on a big smile as she turns to face you, though you notice it doesn't reach her eyes. "Oh, nothing, Sailor!" she says with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Just tired, is all! Fighting that gloppy monster took a lot out of me!" She smiles again, bigger and more visibly forced this time, and says. "What about you? It's can't be fun for you dealing with all these..." Her smile falters for a fraction of a second. "These monsters trying to eat you..."

It's a deflection, and not even a very good one, but you worry if you call her on that it'll scare her into withdrawing further. "It's been harrowing," you say as you keep your gaze locked on her face. "But I imagine it's worse for you, since you're a lot more vulnerable now than you used to be."

Calibani frowns briefly, her eyes big and just a little watery, but she quickly plasters a smile back on. "Oh, I've never been the biggest fish in the pond," she laughs. "It's not the first time something's hunted me, and it won't be the last. At least I have a new weapon to defend myself with." She looks at her stork-headed spear, and her smile finally becomes genuine again. "Thank you for making it, by the way."

Now you get to wave dismissively. "Please, you're the one who made it useful. I think you did as much damage to that thing as the boat."

Calibani's smile grows wider as her eyes flicker with worry again. "Yeah, I hurt it pretty bad," she says with clearly feigned enthusiasm, and again tries to change the topic. "It was so clever of you to hit it with your boat. What a finishing move!"

"Well, it worked for me bef..." you stop mid-sentence as you realize that Calibani knows exactly when you last hit a monster with your boat, and that it's likely a bit of a traumatic memory for her. But there's really no way to end that sentence differently, and so you just whisper out, "...fore..." as an awkward silence falls between you. As both of you stand there quietly not making eye contact, your eyes fall upon her tail, which once again hangs over the side of the ship.

"You're tail's hanging off the side of the ship," you say, stating the obvious.

Calibani looks at it. "Yeah, it is," she says quietly.

"Aren't you worried something will grab it again?"

She shakes her head, and her big mane oh hair attached to it wiggles with the motion. "The water feels so good on my scales and fin," she explains. "I think the time spent enjoying that will outweigh any time spent getting grabbed or bitten, so it's worth the risk. Besides, if something grabs my tail, I can warn you that trouble is coming, so we'll be better off in the end anyway."

You decide not to argue with her logic. "Well, let me know if you need anything," you suggest, unsure of what else to say at the moment.

"Will do, sweetness!" she replies with a bright, fake smile.

With a nod, you leave her to her thoughts, deciding to wait and see if maybe she'll open up later. It's time to focus on the second task at hand, anyway, the whole reason you came here: you need to search these boats.

It's slow, methodical work, and at first it doesn't yield much for all the labor involved. All the wrecked and capsized ships are a bust, their contents either lost to the sea or so water-damaged they're basically useless. The boats that are right-side up provide a bit more - some non-perishable or at least not rotten food here (and, to Calibani's assured delight, some salt, pepper, garlic, and paprika), a few useful tools there, even some clothes that you decide to pocket in hopes of adding to your wardrobe (and, notably, a few more sweaters that seem like they might fit Calibani, though a couple might need to be stretched out a bit first).

In one boat, however, you find something truly interesting. It seems rather bland at first - a briefcase, kind of fancy but not something that seems promising at a glance, with a logo on its side that seems vaguely familiar to you: Spindle Inc.

The name sounds familiar, and you wrack your brain about where you heard it before. Isn't Spindle one of those big tech companies, the ones that make a shitload of money but no one's quite sure what the hell they actually do or sell? You realize this is one of the few specific memories of your life before the Sea that you can recall, and try to see if you can remember more details, but nothing comes to mind.

There's a lock on the briefcase, but luckily for you the former owner didn't remember to lock it. You decide to open it up, just to see if anything inside might further jog your spotty and unreliable memory.

Inside, you spot several documents, with the one on top reading, "Field Agent's Guide to the Sea of Monsters." Most of it uses jargon you can't begin to comprehend, but as you pour over it you come across some notes jotted in the margins.

"It's no use, the only way home is under." "Need a deep sea vessel." "North, South, East, West. Where did it come from?" "Can't risk going back to the lab, they won't let me go." "FIND DR. NEPTUNE." - underlined "Where is Neptune's base? Clues scant." "Captain Peter = only person who knows where Neptune is. Find him beyond the boat graveyard. We're close. I'm close. We're going home."

It's scattered and strange, but you think you get a sense of what this person was looking for. Someone named Dr. Neptune, who you can only find by meeting someone named Captain Peter, who is "beyond the boat graveyard," which you can guess from context is where you are right now. Seems your next destination is... well, ok, not really set, but you know where to go looking next, and that's something, dammit!

Of course, looking requires sailing, and that reminds you that you should probably check on your boat. It's been running well enough, but you've had collisions with two large creatures in about as many days, more or less, so it's good to give things a looksee.

Most things seem in order - no leaks, no dents, no strange noises from your engine (because you're not even sure this boat has an engine, much less where it is or what noises it should make, since the damn thing has always been eerily quiet). Only one thing seems out of place.

There's a... stain? you think? on the front of your boat, a jagged red stain that looks eerily like a mouth. It must be the globster's blood, you tell yourself, except wasn't the globster's blood more of a, like, melonoma black sort of color, that putrescent shade of black that's got other colors mixed in like a mess of spilled paint? And it was chunky when it came out, so how is it smeared so neat and smoothly.

Unless... maybe it's paint? Yeah, that's it, it's paint! How could you forget the cute little shark smile that was painted on your boat, that sharp-toothed painted on grin it's always had as long as you've known it? Of course that smile's always been there, it's probably the reason you picked this boat in the first place whenever... whenever you found it, or bought it, probably? Who wouldn't want the goofy grinning shark boat?

Regardless, nothing is wrong with your boat, as it's in perfectly ship shape. You've got a heading, you've got a working ship, and you've defeated a hideous monster that wanted to eat you and, perhaps worst of all, seemed to be British. If anything calls for celebration, this is it. Going below deck, you break out one of your rarest treasures: a bottle of red wine you found, unopened and of, well, a vintage you hope is good (you don't know shit about wine, you're not Donald Pleasance). It's time to break out the salted meat, cook some of those potatoes you found among the ships, and make a night of it!

You go below deck and make as decent a meal as your conditions with allow, then invite Calibani to eat with you. The two of you share the best meal you've cooked yet, and while the little "ooo's" and "mmm's" Calibani makes while eating show she enjoys the food, you can't help noticing she still looks awfully troubled.

"Did you notice?" you say as you finish your meal. "That it tastes different, I mean."

She nods. "It's good," she says quietly.

"That's cause I found some spices," you say proudly, hoping for a big reaction. But while Calibani smiles, it once again fails to reach her eyes. "Did I oversell how good spices are?" you ask.

"No, no, I'm sorry," she says. "It's really good, best I've had, honest, but..." She looks down at the floor and sighs. "Do you... hate me?"

You stare blankly at her, completely dumbstruck by that question. "What?"

Panic flares behind Calibani's eyes as she throws up her hands and animatedly explains, "It's just that you've been attacked by monsters that want to kill you three days in a row and one of them was me! And the other two are dead - I killed one, we killed the other together, and - and I just don't get it, because you didn't kill me when you could have, and I'm just worried..." She stops her ranting to catch her breath. "I'm worried that you don't like killing and that I've forced you to do it and you hate me for it, or that you hate those creatures for trying to kill you and that means you hate me because I tried to kill you, and I never thought of killing as a personal thing before but now that you put the thought in my mind it's all I'm thinking about and I feel terrible about everything and just - just - do you hate me?"

"Uh... wow," is all you manage to say.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she says quickly, "I didn't mean - oh no, you do hate me, don't you?"

"No, no!" you say just as quickly, your hand instinctively touching your compass. "In fact, I'd go so far to say that my mind keeps being pulled in a direction that likes you quite a lot."

She cocks her head at you and squints, confused by your phrasing despite understanding the jist of it. "Um... well, I mean... why though? I tried to kill you, just like that bird and the... the globster thing we just killed." She looks thoughtfully at the floor. "What makes me different? Why did you spare me?"

That's... actually hard to answer. So, as you do with all hard choices, you consult your compass.

[blueskittlesart]

Which Zelda design would you say is your favourite? I personally love most if not all of them, some more then others but I still like them all, I would also add all link designs as well to this

this is so HARD oh my god. base instinct is oot because shes so classic but I also almost want to say eow traveler's clothes. her little ponytail is so good. I also do almost wish they'd give us another brown-haired zelda because they had SOMETHING in twilight princess it was just kind of poorly executed.

links are harder because. well. sometimes they dont get his face right. I'd say botw link in a heartbeat if it weren't for his eyes. they just. didn't quite get them right i dont think. and on top of them being a weird shape he's always slightly wall-eyed which kills me a little bit. (you have no idea how much it hurts me to say this.) In terms of actual design skyward sword is probably my favorite; i especially love what they did with his casual clothes. i think they had a great balance of being detailed without overcrowding the design and managed to keep the classic look without making him look stupid. all that being said the hottest link is unfortunately twilight princess

[becca-e-barnes]

Humour me while I scratch a personal itch: Your dad's best friend showing you how your body should be appreciated 😵‍💫

"Come on sweetheart, I know he's just not doing it for you." It had never been a secret that neither Bucky nor your dad liked your new boyfriend but you never imagined this would be the angle that Bucky would be taking to convince you to end things.

"That's none of your business! I'm not talking about this with you!" You're so stunned, you can hardly even get the words out. It's nothing short of mortifying to be talking about your sex life with your dad's friend, never mind the fact you've silently been interested in him since your dad introduced you a couple of years ago.

"You haven't tried to convince me I'm wrong though! You need to stop dating these boys, they're no good for you. They're not what you need." He almost sounds like he pities you and that doesn't sit right with you at all.

"You have no idea what I need." You roll your eyes in derision, unable to believe he'd be this bold.

"Don't I? I bet I could guess. He doesn't kiss you right. He never even dreams of letting the tip of his tongue press against yours and then take it from there. While he's kissing you, he's probably pawing mindlessly at your breasts. He doesn't know how to take it slow and work you up the way you need. He has no idea that rubbing you over your panties won't do enough for you. I bet he's never taken the time to appreciate every inch of you. When's the last time he kissed from your ankle to your knee? How often does he stop to kiss your forehead? Has he ever enjoyed every soft slope and curve of your body? Not just the obvious ones, I mean all of them. The curve of your shoulder or the softness of your hips or the firmness of your calf muscle. He doesn't even try. He's doesn't put the effort in for you." He sounds more upset about this than you thought he would and for a couple of seconds, there's nothing at all in your head.

"Show me how you think he should treat me." There's no point taking the time to think about the implications. You want to know how it feels to have your body safely in the hands of someone who knows what to do with it and this is a better time than any.

His lips barely graze yours at first and it makes you crave more of him. Everything in you knows this has to be a bad idea but his lips are so inviting and his hands are gently holding your waist in a way that makes you want him worse than ever.

The tip of his tongue begins to inch forwards and tentatively, you allow yourself to do the same. Your tongue meets his and rather than feeling overwhelmingly off-putting, the gentle, wet pressure is tender and romantic and intimate. Thrill bubbles in your chest because if this is what kissing is supposed to feel like, you have no idea what else he can teach you that you've never experienced before.

You find you're the one increasing the pressure, looking for more. God, you want this. Excitement buzzes low in your tummy and before you know it, you hear a moan that you can hardly believe came from you.

His hands are roaming the expanse of your back over your clothes, never once straying towards your ass or your breasts. It's too early for that and he knows it's not what you need.

He's enjoying this just as much as you are. He's taking you apart, piece by piece. He knows he's only got as much control here as you hand over to him but he's not taking this at the faster pace you're used to, no matter how you try to dictate the pace.

"You're such. An angel." He kisses down the side of your neck, cradling the other side in his hand. His lips are plump and slick and the sensation leaves you quietly gasping. "You don't know how you deserve to be worshipped. You're stunning."

He presses you back, letting you hop up onto the kitchen counter, massaging your calf muscles with his fingertips. You never thought that would do anything for you but seeing him appreciate each inch of you; seeing how he finds ways to extract a pleasurable sensation you've never been treated to before is breath taking.

"We're not jumping ahead of ourselves, but just to prove my point..." His fingertips trail up your leg, under the skirt of your dress and he checks you're okay with it before pressing the pads of his fingers to your underwear.

The thin cotton is soaked through under his fingertips, arousal making you almost dizzy.

"Good girl, look at you enjoying yourself! Bet you haven't been this wet in a while, have you honey?" He presses his fingertips to your lips, letting you taste your own arousal and your mind races at the thought of sucking it off his length later, something you've never wanted to do for anyone before.

[luveline]

reader getting really stressed out about being pregnant for the first time and so hotch just makes her sit down and he totally pampers her for the day?? idk u asked for hotch reqs and this is just the first thing i squeezed out my brain

thank you for requesting <3 fem, 1.2k

There are many things that come with being pregnant. Joy, for sure, but hardship and doubt overwhelmingly. You’re always treating an ailment you didn’t expect to have or worrying that things won’t be ready —that you won’t be ready. 

You’ve developed a bad habit. You can’t stop picking at your hands. Your skin is drier since you’ve been pregnant and the further along you get, the worse it becomes. You scratch at a dry patch between your fingers, wince when it hurts, but continue until there’s no dry skin left to pick, just raw soreness. It’s the first time you’ve made yourself bleed. 

“Are you doing it again?” Aaron asks from the hallway.

You drop your guilty hands down and turn away from his approach. “No, I’m not.” 

“You are, aren’t you?” he asks, a smile in his voice. His hand is warm where he takes your shoulder, turning you to face him. “Show me.” 

“No.” 

“Show me,” he says again, not asking. 

You were supposed to be doing the dishes, but you’d noticed your baby bump was getting in the way, which was oddly beautiful for a few seconds, but was quickly just another imposition in a day full of small annoyances. It is never going to get any easier, your stomach will continue to grow as the baby grows and your body accommodates her, and when you do have her you’ll have to find a way to wash dishes with her held to your chest or on your hip. And it’s lovely, it’s what you signed up for, you can’t wait to be a mom and love your baby, but that’s a big change, too. 

Now you're tail-spin panicking about your life and your hands take the brunt of it. Aaron can’t stop you, but he always tries. 

“I can’t understand why you do this,” he says, parting your fingers gently to assess the damage, “it must hurt. Can you stop?” 

He asks with a mixture of humour and fondness, his eyes on yours and a small smile playing on his lips to encourage a better mood. You don’t have much to give, but you smile back. 

“I know I shouldn’t pick it,” you say. 

“But it’s hard to stop,” he surmises, bringing your hand to his mouth for a soft peck against the back of it, far from your broken skin. 

“I’m just worried.” 

“Oh, I know,” he says, pulling at your hand as he takes your hip in his other and drags you into him. Your bump immediately blocks the way, but bodies are soft, and he keeps on pulling until you’re squished together. 

He smells like something particular. Not cologne or deodorant, not soap or laundry detergent. You can’t put your finger on the scent, your cheek pressed against his shoulder and your nose to his neck, thinking. It’s a sugary smell, but it’s cloying, too, like you’d touch the smell and have a residue on your fingers.

“I changed the air freshener in the bathroom,” he says quietly, his face turned down to yours. 

You don’t bother asking how he knows what you’d been thinking. He’s your mind reader. 

“It was making me feel sick,” you say unnecessarily. 

“I know. Let’s go sit down, my girl.” 

My girl, you think, not sure if you should roll your eyes or hug him tighter. 

You let him lead you from the kitchen to the living room, where he helps you down onto the nice couch, much too nice for babies. You can’t imagine it will stay very clean, but perhaps you’re being cynical. Still, you lean back against the cushions and rub your cheek into clean leather. 

Aaron takes the faux rabbit fur throw from the armrest and shakes it out over you with care, tucking it under your legs, and kissing your cheek as he secures it behind your back. All tucked in, he holds your hands together atop the blanket to encourage you to feel the texture. It’s a good distraction from picking at your hands, which he knows. Aaron knows everything. 

“What do we need?” he asks. “A drink? Dinner’s easy tonight, I’ve promised Jack we’ll make lasagne. Does that sound good to you?” 

You’re honestly not sure. You're quiet for a moment too long. “Sorry,” you frown. 

“I can make you anything you want. It doesn’t bother me.” 

“I feel a little like I’m acting over the top about this.” You’re pregnant. Millions and millions and millions of women have been pregnant. 

“About what?” he asks, sitting beside you on the couch, your blanket untucking under his legs. “Being tired? You can’t decide.” 

“About everything, I guess.” 

“Well, when you figure out what it is that’s making this,” —he puts a hand to your belly— “over the top, you can let me know.” 

You lift your chin. He kisses you soundly. 

It’s nice to be loved like this. 

“What’s up with my baby?” he asks, giving your stomach a soft rub. “Is she moving today?” 

You lean back and he understands that to mean he should feel lower, where you can feel the baby’s weight more clearly. “Not much moving. She gave me a good kick earlier.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I think so.” 

He feels along the bottom of your stomach politely. It’s a little funny, the baby wouldn’t exist without him being rather less polite, but it’s also lovely. You can trust him to be a great father because he’s already an adoring husband. If he treats you with a never ending supply of tender caring and soft touches, it’s easy to picture how he’ll treat your girl. You’ve never once doubted him, and he’s never hurt you. You don’t think he could. 

“There?” he asks, putting his hand to the right side of the bump. 

You can’t be totally certain, but you’re sure he’s right. “Right there, handsome.” 

Things are far less stressful to think of when he’s near. He reminds you in something as small as a thumb to your belly that everything will be taken care of. You’re not half as alone as you feel, and neither is your baby. Aaron can do the dishes while you’re unable. He’d do them even if your only reason was that you didn’t want to. 

“Hello,” he says, charmed, eyes glowing with excitement as you encourage your shirt up over your stomach for a better view. Aaron places his hand to your naked skin, palm hot. “I love you.” 

He has to tap you under the chin for you to know who it is he’s talking to. “I love you, too,” you say quickly. 

He smiles, before his attention falls completely to your stomach once again. “And you, sweetheart. I love you. Can you say hello?” 

He has to talk for a while, but eventually your baby moves. 

Your shoulders relax. You close your eyes and let him murmur to you both, peaceful for a desperately needed half an hour.

[anim-ttrpgs]

Help Save the World of TTRPGs and Their Creators.

Okay I’m being a little dramatic, but at the same time I’m pretty serious. This is a call to action, and the livelihoods of myself and lots of other people, many of them (like myself) disabled, are depending on it. This is a post about why, what you can do about it, and (perhaps least often answered) how.

This post is actually an accompaniment to another discussion by someone else. If you don’t want to listen to a 90-minute in-depth discussion of much of what I’m about to tell you, you can just keep reading. Otherwise, click here or here and listen to this either before or after you read this post. (They’re the same thing, just different sources.)

If you have ever made or reblogged posts urging people to switch from Google Chrome to Firefox, you should be willing to at least give a try to other TTRPGs besides D&D5e for much the same principle reasons. I’m not telling you you have to hate D&D5e, and I’m not telling you you have to quit D&D5e, I’m just asking you to try some other games. If you don’t like them, and you really want to go back to D&D5e, then go back to D&D5e. But how can you really know you won’t like other games if you have literally never tried them? This post is a post about why and how to try them. If you’re thinking right now that you don’t want to try them, I urge you to look below to see if any of your reasons for not wanting to try them are covered there. Because the monopoly that WotC’s D&D5e has on TTRPGs as a whole is bad for me as a game designer, and it’s bad for you as a game player. It’s even bad for you if you like D&D5e. A fuller discussion of the why and how this is the case can be found in the links above, but it isn’t fully necessary for understanding this post, it’ll just give you a better perspective on it.

If you’re a D&D5e player, I’m sure at some point or another, you’ve been told “play a different game”, and it must get frustrating without the context of why and how. This post is here to give you the why and how.

[The following paragraph has been edited because the original wording made it sound like we think all weird TTRPGs suck.]

Before that though, one more thing to get out of the way. I'm going to level with you. There’s a lot of weird games out there.

You are gonna see a lot of weird TTRPGs when you take the plunge. Many of them try to completely reinvent what a TTRPG even is, and some fail spectacularly, others really do even up doing something very interesting even if they don't end up being what a core TTRPG player wants. But not every indie RPG is a Bladefish, lots and lots of them are more 'traditional' and will feel very familiar to you, I promise. (And you might even find that you like the weird experimental bladefish type ones, these are usually ideal for one-session plays when your usual group can't play your usual game for any reason.)

You're also going to probably see a lot of very bad games, and man have I got some stories of very bad games, but for now I'm just saying to make sure you read the reviews, or go through curators (several of which will be listed below), before you buy.

Now that that is out of the way, I’m going to go down a list of concerns you may have for why not, and then explain the how.

“I don’t want to learn a whole new set of rules after I already spent so much time learning D&D5e.”

Learning a new set of rules is not going to be as hard as you think. Most other TTRPGs aren’t like that. D&D5e is far on the high end of the scale for TTRPGs being hard and time-consuming to learn and play. If you’ve only played D&D5e, it might trick you into thinking that learning any TTRPG is an overwhelmingly time-consuming task, but this is really mostly a D&D5e problem, not a TTRPG problem as a whole.

“D&D5e has all of these extra online tools to help you play it.”

So what? People have been playing TTRPGs without the help of computers for 50 years. To play a well-designed TTRPG you won’t need a computer. Yes, even if you're bad at math. There are some TTRPGs out there that barely even use math.

“I’m too invested in the narrative and characters of my group’s current ongoing D&D5e campaign to switch to something else.”

There are other games, with better design made by better people for less money, that are the same kind of game as D&D5e, that your current characters, lore, and plot will fit right into and do it better. And no, it's not just Pathfinder, there's others.

“I can’t afford to play another TTRPG.”

You probably can. If you’ve only played D&D5e, you might have been made to think that TTRPGs are a very expensive hobby. They aren’t. D&D5e is actually uniquely expensive, costing more than 3x more than the next most expensive TTRPG I can think of right now. Even on the more expensive end, other TTRPG books will cost you no more than $60, most will cost you less than $20, and a whole lot of them are just free. If you somehow still can’t afford another TTRPG, come to the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book club mentioned below, nominate the game, and if it wins the vote we will straight up buy it for you.

(By the way, if you had any of the above concerns about trying other games besides D&D5e, that really makes it sound like you are in a textbook abusive relationship with D&D5e. This is how abusers control their partners, and how empires control their citizens, by teaching you to think that nothing could ever get any better, and even though they treat you bad, the Other will treat you even worse.)

“If I don’t play D&D5e, which TTRPG should I play?”

That’s a pretty limited question to be asking, because there will be no one TTRPG for everything. And no, D&D5e is not the one TTRPG for everything, Hasbro’s marketing team is just lying to you. (Pathfinder and PbtA are not the one system for everything either!) Do you only play one video game or only watch one movie or only read one book? When you finish watching an action movie like Mad Max, and then you want to watch a horror movie, do you just rewind Mad Max and watch it over again but this time you act scared the whole time? No, you watch a different movie. I’m asking you to give the artistic medium of TTRPGs the same respect you would give movies.

“I want to play something besides D&D5e, but my friends won’t play anything else!”

I have several answers to this.

Try showing them this post.

If that doesn’t work: Make them. Put your foot down. This works especially well if you are the DM. Tell them you won’t run another session of D&D5e until they agree to give what you want to do at least one try instead of always doing only what they want to do. This is, like, playing 101. We learned this in kindergarten. If your friend really wants to play something else, you should give their game a try, or you’re not really being a very good friend.

If that doesn’t work, find another group. This doesn’t even mean that you have to leave your existing group. A good place to start would be the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club which will be mentioned and linked below. You can also go to the subreddit of any game you’re interested in and probably meet people there who have the same problem you do and want to put together a group to play something other than D&D5e. You might get along great with these people, you might not, but you won’t know until you try. Just make sure to have a robust “session zero” so everyone is on the same page. This is a good practice for any group but it is especially important for a group made of players you’ve just met.

“I only watch actual plays.”

Then watch actual plays of games that aren’t D&D5e. These podcasts struggle for the same reasons that indie RPGs struggle, because of the brand recognition and brand loyalty D&D5e has, despite their merit. I don’t watch actual plays, or else I would be able to list more of them. So, anyone who does watch actual plays, please help me out by commenting on this post with some non-D&D5e actual plays you like. And please do me a favor and don’t list actual plays that only play one non-D&D5e system, list ones that go through a variety of systems. The first one I can think of is Tiny Table.

“I can just homebrew away all the problems with D&D5e.”

Even though I want to, I’m not going to try and argue that you can’t actually homebrew away all the problems with D&D5e. Instead, I’m going to ask you why you’re buying two $50 rulebooks just to throw away half the pages. In most other good RPGs, you don’t need to change the rules to make them fun, they’re fun right out the box.

“But homebrewing D&D5e into any kind of game is fun! You can homebrew anything out of D&D5e!”

Firstly, I promise that this is not unique to D&D5e. Secondly, then you would probably have more fun homebrewing a system that gives you a better starting point for reaching your goal. Also, what if I told you that there are entire RPG systems out there that are made just for this? There are RPG systems that were designed for the purpose of being a toolbox and set of materials for you to work with to make exactly the game you want to make. Some examples are GURPS, Savage Worlds, Basic RolePlaying, Caltrop Core, and (as much as I loathe it) PbtA.

“I’m not supporting WotC’s monopoly because I pirate all the D&D5e books.”

Then you’re still not supporting the smaller developers that this monopoly is crushing, either.

Now, here’s the how. Because I promise you, there’s not just one, but probably a dozen other RPGs out there that will scratch your exact itch.

Here’s how to find them. This won’t be a comprehensive list because I’ve already been typing this for like 3 hours already. Those reading this, please go ahead and comment more to help fill out the list.

First, I’m gonna plug one of my own major projects, because it’s my post. The A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club. It’s a discord server that treats playing TTRPGs like a book club, with the goal of introducing members to a wide variety of games other than D&D5e. RPGs are nominated by members, then we hold a vote to decide what to read and play for a short campaign, then we repeat. There is no financial, time, or schedule investment required to join this book club, I promise it is very schedule-friendly, because we assign people to different groups based of schedule compatibility. You don’t have to play each campaign, or any campaign, you can just read along and participate in discussion that way. And if you can’t afford to buy the rulebook we’re going to be reading, we will make sure you get a PDF of it for free. That is how committed we are to getting non-D&D5e RPGs into people’s hands. Here is an invite link.

Next, there are quite a few tumblr blogs you can follow to get recommendations shown to you frequently.

@indierpgnewsletter

@indie-ttrpg-of-the-day

@theresattrpgforthat

@haveyouplayedthisttrpg

@indiepressrevolution

Plenty of podcasts, journalists, and youtubers out there do in-depth discussions of different systems regularly, a couple I can think of off the top of my head are:

Storyteller Conclave (I’m actually going to be interviewed live on this show on April 10th!)

Seth Skorkowsky

Questing Beast

The Gaming Table

Rascal News

Lastly, you can just go looking. Browse r/rpg, drivethrurpg.com, indie press revolution, and itch.io.

Now, if you really want to support me and my team specifically Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy, our debut TTRPG, is going to launch on Kickstarter on April 10th and we need all the help we can get. Set a reminder from the Kickstarter page through this link.

If you’re interested in a more updated and improved version of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy than the free demo you got from our website, there’s plenty of ways to get one!

Subscribe to our Patreon where we frequently roll our new updates for the prerelease version!

Donate to our ko-fi and send us an email with proof that you did, and we’ll email you back with the full Eureka prerelease package with the most updated version at the time of responding! (The email address can be found if you scroll down to the bottom of our website.)

We also have merchanise.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

Hello! I hope you're having a good day! I was thinking about this Bakugou, where he penches his s/o lips whenever she teases him or compliments him, saying that her lips should be punished for driving him crazy or smth.

I just find this idea cute if you please can write about it 😭🤍

a/n:..wait...cus why are you a literal genius this got a lil kick teww ittttt.. (kinda soooorta angsty but like if you squint, katsuki is bad at feelings but he tries his hardest, kissing, no biting for once wow its been a while..dont worry yall its comin, short lil drabble, hope u enjoy ! <3)

"your eyes are so pretty katsu."

katsuki bakugou thinks he'll never be able to get used to you when he looks down at your head in his lap, raising a brow as a defensive mechanism to not turn red all the way down to his chest.

"where'd this come from ?" he leans into your hand almost reflexively when you place it against his cheek, still not breaking eye contact as you smile at him, he feels warmth crawl up his back and it makes him squint.

"nowhere," you run your finger across his cheek, than across his nose bridge "just wanted to tell you."

he gulps, clearing his throat his eyes fight to keep looking into yours, relaxed and happy and comfortable. it feels strange to see someone so comfortable around him.

"yeah ?"

"mhm, your lashes are so long too." you muse. it's casual, it comes out so easily.

he feels his heart beat loudly against his chest when you run your fingers over his eyebrows. you keep on touching him, and he likes it, usually. but it's overwhelmingly nice, you're overwhelmingly nice and he doesn't know what to do with it. because bakugou isn't sweet like you. he can't casually tell you that he loves your eyes, that he could be perfectly content staring at you doing whatever for hours on end, that random things he sees when he's out remind him of you and that you're the last thing he thinks about when he falls asleep.

because it comes out wrong, when he does. but even still your words make him so unbearably giddy. it's foreign receiving compliments, and if he does their almost always quirk related. but these are different and they're from you, so it feels even better and though embarrassment creeps up onto his body his heart buzzes and beats proudly. he feels like he can't sit still so he does the next best thing.

"shush." he mumbles, pinching your cheeks to make you pout. you splutter out a giggle when he leans down to place a sloppy wet kiss onto your duck lips. "you keep sayin' weird shit.." he dodges your grin when he lets go of your cheek.

"but they are long ! and your eyes are pretty ! that's not weird, it's the truth." you maintain, nodding afterwards like your word is law. fuck, he loves you.

"be quiet." he pinches your lips shut and you start flailing around with muffled giggles and squeals. katsuki follows, laughing through his nose and meanly moving your lips around in his grip.

"fuck, you drive me crazy.." your eyes snap open at his soft eyes and words. his eyes shine mischievously but his cheeks are bright as he smirks. you pout at him and it makes him want to squeeze you until you pop. ( he remembers you called it cute aggression or something)

"you talk too damn much." he pinches your cheek "needa be punished for drivin' me nuts all the damn time."

"jush shay yur not goo wif complimeshs." katsuki snorts at your attempts to talk with your cheek in his grip, and he can't help the half smirk on his face when you laugh. he releases your cheek in favor of leaning down to press his lips against yours.

"you're the pretty one, dummy."

"but we can both be pretty !"

"whatever, you're prettier then."

katsuki still feels his heart thump loudly in his chest, and he's sure he'll keep feeling like this for a long while. your words will keep sticking to his heart like they always do. and maybe he is 'pretty', he'll go along with that for you, but you're definitely prettier.

[fics-and-quotes-andthelike]

What Happens in the Shadows

Title: What Happens in the Shadows

Pairing: Alastor x reader

Word Count: ~5,155

In which Mimzy has suspicions about Alastor’s feelings towards the reader, and plans to use them to her advantage.

A/N: Part 4 of my Never and Always series

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING (attempted assault), angst, fluff

Mimzy was a lot of things. She was loud, she was brash, she was showy, and she was bold. She was also, however, good at picking up a scent. Whether it was a good deal to be made, money to be earned, or an advantage to be won, Mimzy was there.

This usually led to one of two things.

One, she would get too confident, pushing herself into a corner when the tables inevitably turned against her, leaving her scrambling to the closest ally she had as a defense.

The second option was much more rare, when she would take her time, allowing herself to gather enough facts to truly know a demon’s weaknesses before pouncing and closing a deal. Though it didn’t happen often, those that did manage to fall under Mimzy’s control were there for eternity, serving and slaving away as she ever so slowly gathered more power.

Mimzy was ever so hungry for power, after all, even if she was bad at obtaining it.

Which is why, when she witnessed the small spectacle at her club between her dear friend Alastor and a lowly sinner who had done nothing but dance with a woman, the gears in her head had started to turn.

She had never mentioned the incident to anyone else, of course. She wasn’t stupid. She knew that the Radio Demon would have her head if she so much as breathed a word of it. 

But he couldn’t stop her from thinking. He couldn’t stop her from watching. He couldn’t stop her from noticing. And he most definitely couldn’t stop her from coming.

~~~

“Ya think ya boyfriend would let mine go if you asked nicely?”

You flushed and looked away. “Alastor is not my boyfriend.”

Angel Dust winked over at you. “Uh-huh, sure. Whateva ya say, dollface.”

“He’s not,” you insisted. “We’re just friends.”

From his place behind the hotel bar, Husk put down the cup he was cleaning and looked up at you. “You and Angel are ‘just friends’. You and me? Just friends. You and Alastor?” He shook his head, picking up a new cup as he looked over at you with an expression of vague concern. “You’re more than that.”

“Ha!” Angel said as he pointed over at Husk in triumph.

You could feel embarrassment pooling into your stomach. “You’re both wrong. Al doesn’t-” you struggled to find the words. “Al doesn’t like anyone that way,” you said hesitantly. “And I know for a fact that he doesn’t like me that way. He just feels responsible for me now, that’s all.”

Husk huffed lightly, his eyes narrowing. “Alastor’s never felt responsible for anyone in his life. Not for the souls he’s collected, and definitely not for a sinner that doesn’t owe him any more than the dirt on her shoes.”

You looked away. “I do owe him,” you muttered. “He saved my life.”

Angel laughed forcefully. “That was his choice, toots. You don’t owe him nothin’, ya hear me?” He glanced over at you, his expression bordering on desperation as he searched your eyes. 

Maybe you didn’t agree, but it wouldn’t do anybody any good to have Angel and Husk worrying over you with each passing moment while you stubbornly believed that Alastor was a good man who had earned your trust long ago.

So instead, you nodded, smiling softly. “I know.”

Angel nodded firmly, but the concern in his eyes was still overwhelmingly present.

You couldn’t blame him, of course, but you wished with all of your undead heart that the three most important people in your life would just get along. Not that it would ever happen while Alastor held Husk’s soul. 

You let out a long exhale before you clapped your hands together and smiled over at the hotel’s bartender. “Alright, enough of that.” 

Angel Dust’s expression relaxed as he turned to Husk as well. “She’s right. Pour me a drink.”

Husk returned your grin with one of his own, pouring the three of you a glass and sliding yours over.

The three of you sat in silence for a moment, staring down at your drinks as you thought. You couldn’t say exactly what was going on in Husk and Angel’s heads, but you knew that you personally were thinking about a specific radio-themed Overlord. 

You hadn’t seen Alastor since the two of you had danced together in your bedroom a few days prior. It made sense that you hadn’t seen him the day after, of course. It was your day with Angel, and Alastor would love nothing less than to get involved in your makeover session.

The days after that though, were different. Normally, you’d at least catch a glimpse of the demon before he left the hotel to run his radio show or do whatever else Overlords did in their free time. If you weren’t able to catch him before he left, he would always drop by the hotel a little later on, even if just for a moment. But no matter what, he would always stop by your room at the end of the day, and the two of you would just talk.

But now, you hadn’t seen or heard from Alastor in days. You weren’t worried, per say. You knew he was more than capable of taking care of himself. You did miss him, though, and you would be lying if you said that you weren’t looking forward to your next evening conversation. 

You drummed your hands lightly on the counter before shifting off of your barstool. It wasn’t likely that Alastor had finally stopped by, but it wouldn’t hurt to check. “I think I’m going to turn in for the night.”

Angel Dust quirked an eyebrow at you playfully. “Sure thing, toots. Just goin’ to bed, nothin’ to do with Smiles at all, right?”

You blushed and turned away, walking towards the staircase leading up to your room. “Goodnight.”

“Have fun,” Angel called up after you as you climbed the stairs and walked down the hallway to your room as quickly as possible. 

You breathed a deep sigh of relief when you were able to reach your bedroom without any more comments from Angel. Though, that was probably courtesy of Husk. You made a mental note to thank him in the morning.

You closed your door behind you and leaned against it with a sigh. 

Something flitted across your vision. You jerked back.

The object popped up in front of you, causing you to bite back a scream before you recognized it as Alastor’s shadow. 

You huffed in annoyance and pushed away from your door, walking around the shadow and making your way to your bed before plopping yourself down. “That was absolutely unnecessary,” you said.

The shadow only smiled, quickly weaving its way over to sit beside you. It took your hand and raised it, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. 

You blushed. “Fine, I forgive you,” you said with a giggle. 

The shadow’s smile broadened, using its other hand to gently put its claws to your throat as your laughter slowed.

“Not that I don’t love to see you,” you said as your eyes took a quick scan of your room. “But where’s Alastor?” The shadow made a small noise before reaching back and pulling a note off of your nightstand. It turned your hand over to place the folded piece of paper in your palm. 

You pulled your hand back and opened the note, your eyes skimming over it as you tried to keep your heart from sinking. 

It was a short note, and straight to the point. Alastor wouldn’t be coming back to the hotel that night due to some unfinished business with gaining new territory. He didn’t know when he’d be back. He wished you a good night.

You folded the note again and placed it in between yourself and the shadow. “It’s alright,” you said, forcing a smile on your face. “I understand.”

But the shadow’s smile had lessened significantly, and it stared at you almost expectantly.

“I’m fine, really,” you insisted. “I know he’s busy. I’m just glad he’s okay.”

The shadow looked unconvinced. But, you noticed with disappointment, its eyes had started to flicker back to your window. 

“You need to go,” you said. It wasn’t a question.

The shadow looked back at you regretfully.

You reached out and placed your hands on its cheeks, lowering its head until your foreheads touched. “I’ll be okay,” you said quietly. “I promise.”

You released it and moved back.

The shadow caught your hands and pulled you back in, pressing a kiss to each of your palms before pressing them to its chest where its beating heart would have been. It gave you one last long look before it released you and melted back into the shadows, disappearing out your window.

You stared after it for a moment. Part of you wished that it had been Alastor who had come into your room and kissed your palms goodnight. The other, less selfish part of you knew that he had done the best that he could, and you appreciated it more than words could say.

“Don’t worry, he’s always like this,” a voice said from the other side of your room.

You nearly jumped out of your skin as you spun around, searching for its source.

Mimzy stepped forward from the shadows and gave you a sickening smile. “It doesn't mean he doesn't care about you.”

“What are you doing here?” you blurted without thinking. Your hands clutched your bed sheets as she approached you as casually as you would approach a friend in public. But you weren’t in public. And you most definitely weren’t friends.

“Oh, don’t give me that, doll,” Mimzy said with a wave of her hand. “I’ve been dying to see you ever since Al brought you to my club.”

“Why?” you asked before pressing your lips together. It wouldn’t do you any good to antagonize her, you knew. But you couldn’t seem to stop yourself. “What do you want from me?”

A small voice in the back of your head wondered how she had managed to slink into the shadows and avoid Alastor’s. Shadows were part of his domain, after all. Shouldn’t he have sensed her?

Mimzy’s smile changed into something more sinister. “I don’t want anything from you, doll. You’re a sweet little thing, but-” she looked you up and down with a note of disdain. “I have a feeling you wouldn’t make me much revenue.”

You felt an anger flare up inside of you. You stood, crossing your arms and pasting what you hoped was a firm expression on your face. “If you don’t want anything from me, why go out of your way to sneak into my room?”

The club owner’s smile only grew. “Relax, sugar, I’m not here to trick you into services. I’m here to talk about ol’ Alastor.”

You tried to hide the surprise and fear that shot through your core. “What about him?”

“Well,” Mimzy said with nonchalance as she began to stroll through your bedroom, poking at your belongings. “We both know that he tends to keep to himself. Not many friends, but loads of enemies, am I right? But he’s really just a sweetheart, that’s why we’ve been friends for years now.”

You blinked. “Alright.”

“But,” Mimzy continued, her voice oddly sweet. “I noticed the other night that he’s taken a bit of a shine to you.”

You dropped your arms and shook your head. “That’s not true. Alastor and I-”

Mimzy waved a hand dismissively. “Now, I’m not one to stir up unnecessary drama. But Al’s my friend, so I’ve been a bit worried about him since then.” She turned to look at you, her eyes boring intently into yours. “He’s an Overlord, you know. Lots of enemies. If any of them find out about you, think about what it’ll do to his reputation. Or worse,” she said, her eyes widening dramatically as she placed her hands on her cheeks. “His power.”

You flinched. 

If you were being honest, the very same thought had crossed your mind more than once. Every time you went out with Alastor, even for a brief moment, you worried about being seen with him. You worried what it would do for his image. 

He had been quick to ease your concerns, reassuring you that nobody would dare cross him, even if he were to be seen with you. 

Even so, you had noticed that he was careful to never touch you, and rarely ever look at you, when the two of you were in public.

But, it seemed, despite all of his precautions, that your night together at Mimzy’s might have started something that you had feared from the very beginning.

You swallowed heavily, meeting Mimzy’s gaze as you repeated the same words that Alastor had said to you, time and time again. “Nobody would dare cross the Radio Demon.”

Mimzy nodded enthusiastically in agreement. “Of course they wouldn’t, sugar. But they might mess with you. And if Al cares about you half as much as I think he does, well, that’ll be enough to ruin everything that he’s ever worked for.”

You bit your lip with worry. You were never quite as good as Alastor when it came to hiding your emotions. “So why did you come to me?”

The demoness shrugged. “I knew Al would never listen if I told him that you were bad for him.”

You winced.

“But,” she continued, “I thought maybe you could convince him.”

An alarm bell began to ring in the back of your mind. “Convince him of what?” you asked wearily.

“To keep his distance from you,” Mimzy said, a little too quickly for your liking. “The longer you stick around, the more he gets attached. And the more he gets attached, well…” she smiled, her teeth sharp and her eyes dark. “The more likely it is that our old friend gets tossed out of commission.”

Your gaze hardened. “You want me to stay away from Al? Fat chance.”

Mimzy laughed, the sound forced and brittle. “Not at all, sugar. I won’t be the one who ripped the two of you apart.” She began walking towards your bedroom door. “In fact, I think you two are adorable together. But, you see, it’s not just Alastor I’m looking out for. I’ve gotta take care of myself, too,” she said as she turned to face you.

You recoiled at the sight of her hardened eyes and cruel expression.

Your bedroom door opened, revealing two large demons that closed the door behind them, blocking your exit. You whirled around as another demon entered through your window, cutting off your only other means of escape.

“Mimzy-” you began.

“Don’t you worry, doll. They can’t exactly kill you again, can they?” she giggled. “They’ll just rough you up a little so that Alastor can finally come to his senses.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked as panic began to set in.

“Let me explain it in simple terms for you, hun. I need you to help me break Alastor and get him away from you. Whether or not you help me willingly is completely up to you,” she said with a shrug.

“If Al does care about me,” you said desperately, “then it won’t do any good for you to hurt me. This is just going to make things worse for him. It’ll make him angry. He’ll lash out.”

Mimzy’s eerie grin only grew in size. “Oh, I’m counting on it, sugar. I can’t exactly gain more territory with the Radio Demon breathing down everyone’s neck. If I can get to him through you, he’ll be too upset to think straight.” She chuckled. “If I’m lucky, he’ll be the cause of his own downfall. With him out of the way, things can be the way they’re meant to be.”

The three demons surrounding you came closer.

“Mimzy,” you gasped. “Please, don’t do this. Alastor’s one of your oldest friends, he doesn’t deserve this.”

The club owner tilted her head in consideration. “Well, I suppose I can make an exception.” Her teeth flashed. “If you were willing to cut a deal with me.”

The demons grew closer still.

You could feel your resolve faltering. One measly deal to get out of this mess didn’t sound too bad. But as you looked back over at Mimzy, her eyes flashing and her smile turning into a snarl, the voice in your head that screamed out to protect Alastor came to the forefront of your mind with full force. Any deal that you made with Mimzy would only be used to hurt Alastor, and you would never forget how you had met him in the first place.

He had saved you once. You weren’t going to make him save you again.

You straightened and stared straight into Mimzy’s eyes. “I hope you get what’s coming to you,” you spat.

The sinner shrugged. “Whatever you say, doll. Have fun, fellas!”

You heard your door open and close as the demons drew nearer, blocking your view. 

A deep fear spread throughout your body, starting in your chest and working its way out. You could scream, but you were almost certain that Mimzy had found a way to mute the sounds from your room to the rest of the hotel. Nobody was coming to save you.

You squeezed your eyes shut and braced yourself as a feeling of regret shot through your heart. You had never thanked Husk for having your back. You had never finished your makeover with Anthony. You had never told your friends how much they had helped you, and how much you appreciated them.

You had never told Alastor that you loved him.

You let out a sob. You cursed yourself for crying.

A hand grabbed your arm roughly, your eyes flying open in horror. But before the demon could do so much as pull you closer, a shadow swept through your window and across the room, knocking the other two demons away from you. The third demon tightened his grip on your arm, but it was already much too late.

The lights in your room began to flicker as a new shadow entered your room. It grew in size, becoming more and more solid until it finally took the shape of one of the most feared Overlords in Hell.

“I do believe,” Alastor said to the last standing demon as his antlers began to grow and his eyes began to flicker. “You have something that belongs to me.”

You didn’t wait to hear the demon’s response before you shut your eyes and turned away. You knew what came next, and though you had yet to argue with Alastor over his methods, you had no wish to see them for yourself.

The demon’s hand was ripped from your arm. Even without your sight, you were able to hear the screams of all three intruders as Alastor and his shadow punished them a mere feet away from you.

You sank down onto the ground, keeping your eyes closed as you pulled your knees up to your chest and buried your head in your arms. The tears that had begun to flow earlier suddenly returned with a vengeance, making their way down your cheeks as you sobbed violently.

You’re safe. You’re safe. Al is here now. You’re safe, you thought to yourself as you pulled your knees in tighter.

But another, horrible voice spoke up as you cried. He wasn’t able to see Mimzy, it said. Why wasn’t he able to see Mimzy? If this happens again, will he know? Will he miss it? 

Can he save me?

You gasped and whipped your head up when a gentle hand brushed your arm.

Alastor was staring right back at you, kneeling on your floor. His smile was tense and close-lipped, his expression concerned. “It’s only me, mon chere.”

You glanced behind him and noticed vaguely that Mimzy’s three demons were nowhere to be seen.

Your chest began to hitch as you tried to hold your tears back. “I’m so sorry, Al,” you said, hating the way your voice broke. “I should have been able to defend myself, I’m so sorry.” The tears began again, your body slumping forward as you began to weep. 

A pair of arms caught you and gathered your body closer until you were resting against a warm chest. 

Al’s shadow, you thought to yourself as you nuzzled closer.

One of its arms wrapped around your back, holding you close, while its other hand grasped one of yours and pressed it to its chest. It held you tightly, allowing you to cry and hiccup into its shoulder.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there before your sobs became whimpers, and your whimpers became hiccups. You weren’t sure how long it held you before you were able to breathe properly.

The hand holding yours released you gently, coming up to wipe your tears away from your face.

You finally opened your swollen eyes, already regretting having been found in such a vulnerable state. 

You came face to face with Alastor’s shadow. Holding Alastor’s staff.

Standing across the room.

You gasped and pulled back violently, causing yourself to fall out of Alastor’s lap and onto your floor. 

The Overlord didn’t react, instead watching you with an expressionless smile on his face.

“I thought you were your shadow,” you stammered. “I didn’t realize-”

“I do hope you aren’t going to apologize for reacting to the given situation, my dear,” Alastor said as he tilted his head at you. He sounded, much to your surprise, mildly annoyed.

You froze. “Are you mad at me?”

A flash of irritation appeared in the Overlord’s eyes as his teeth gleamed. “We’ve now spent a notable amount of time together. I do hope you know me a bit better than that.” His voice held a note of challenge.

You sniffed and brought your knees to your chest once again without a response.

Alastor’s eyes softened and his smile eased at the sight of your trembling form. He sighed, the sound revealing an internal exhaustion that he would never admit to out loud. “I assure you, mon chere, my anger does not lie with you.”

You nodded, looking away. 

Silence. Deep silence.

But you couldn’t avoid the upcoming conversation forever.

“People have seen us together, Al,” you finally said, your throat raw. You looked up at him. “People who want to take your power.”

You didn’t miss the way the demon’s smile tensed. 

“I won’t be the reason that you lose everything you’ve built so far,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “You deserve more than what I can give you.”

Alastor stood abruptly, climbing gracefully to his feet before offering you one of his clawed hands and pulling you up beside him.

He released you and grasped your chin in between his fingers, tilting your head up to face him. 

“Any demon who hopes to steal my power is going to find themselves sorely disappointed, my dear, regardless of whether or not your presence is noticed.” His eyes hardened. “I am more than capable of holding on to what I’ve gained.”

“You couldn’t sense Mimzy,” you blurted, regretting the words as they left your lips, but unable to stop them. “You didn’t realize she was there until-” you swallowed. “What if it happens again, but this time they come for you?” You hated how desperate you sounded. “What if they hurt you, Al?”

The Overlord tilted his head. His smile twitched and his grip only strengthened as he looked down at you with something resembling regret. “I do admit that both myself and my shadow were a bit distracted during its visit, and I do apologize for not preventing this whole ordeal before it ever began.”

“That’s not what I meant-” you started weakly.

Alastor’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Though I can promise you that such a thing will never happen again, mon chere. Not while I still stand.”

You didn’t respond. Not because you doubted his ability to take care of you, of course. But because you didn’t want this added responsibility to prevent him from taking care of himself.

“I do hope,” the demon continued, the static in his voice suddenly disappearing as he searched your gaze. “That you haven’t finally begun to doubt me.”

You shook your head as well as you were able to with his fingers still clutching your jaw. “No,” you whispered. “Never.”

And in a rare display of courage, you reached out, placing your hands gently on either side of the Radio Demon’s face as he released your jaw. You pulled him down until your foreheads met. “Never,” you repeated, your voice firm. “And if you really aren’t worried, and you want me to stay, then I will.” You pulled back to look into his eyes. “I’ll stay with you. Always.”

Alastor’s hands reached up and settled on top of yours as his eyes bore into you. “That’s quite the commitment, my dear,” he said. There was something strange in his voice, something that sounded almost like uncertainty, almost like tension, almost like fear.

Your grip on his face tightened as you looked up at him. “I mean it, Al. I’ll stay with you, if you’ll have me. If you’re sure.”

Now, there were a great many things that Alastor would never do. He’d never make a deal that he wasn’t in control of. He’d never submit to the Vees. He’d never tell Charlie the real reason that he was in her hotel.

He’d never tell you that he loved you.

But, he found as he stared into your eyes, he would absolutely give up everything that he’d ever built if it meant that he got to keep you.

“I don’t intend to lose anything, my dear. Least of all you.”

You blushed, maintaining eye contact as a gentle smile took the place of your previous frown.

Alastor leaned forward. You followed his lead, expecting to press your forehead to his, when he surprised you by placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

You pulled back and smiled up at him before pulling him down to place your own kiss on his cheek.

Maybe Mimzy was right. Maybe you were something of a danger to the Radio Demon. But you’d be double-damned if you were going to give up on him so easily.

“Now,” Alastor said, his eyes flashing dangerously as he released you and stepped back. His shadow surged forward, returning Alastor’s staff to its rightful owner and standing behind its master with a chilling grin. 

Alastor faced you, his smile gentle and his eyes hard as the static returned to his voice with full force. “Would you care to give me the name of the foolish soul who tried to harm what was mine?”

~~~

Nobody had seen or heard from Mimzy in days.

Three new screams had joined the Radio Demon’s broadcast.

You’d been too afraid to leave the hotel for a few days.

Alastor had begun checking your room every night before leaving you alone.

Nobody else at the hotel knew what had happened to you. Not even Angel and Husk.

You gained back your courage in the following weeks with help from Alastor.

The two of you had grown closer than ever.

Nobody had seen or heard from Mimzy in weeks.

~~~

You leaned back against your bed’s headboard, watching as Alastor had his shadow sweep through your room once again.

“I’m fine, Al,” you said, trying to contain your laughter. “Really. Nobody else is going to get in. There’s locks on the windows, and your room is close enough to be able to hear if something goes wrong.”

Alastor hummed in acknowledgement, though his eyes continued to roam around your room until he was satisfied.

He turned to you with a grin. “I’m only protecting what is mine, mon cœur.” He turned to your door, walking away from you with his shadow following close behind. “I do expect to see you bright and early in the morning for a short stroll.”

It was your turn to hum in agreement. 

You were more than thrilled with the offer, of course, but you felt a sense of unease that threatened to keep you up all night. You didn’t doubt Alastor’s abilities, of course, but you worried about what might happen to him if he was attacked while he was momentarily distracted with keeping you safe.

Alastor’s hand reached towards your doorknob. “I bid you a good night, my dear.”

“Will you stay with me tonight?” you blurted before you could lose your courage.

Alastor froze in place, his hand hovering. His shadow, however, was much more reactive. It leapt up in excitement and made its way back over to your bed, jumping in beside you and nuzzling its head against your cheek. 

You giggled and pulled away, allowing the shadow to slowly run a clawed hand from the base of your throat up to your chin before looking back over at its owner.

He had turned to look at you, a fond expression on his face as he watched the interaction. 

“Only if you want to, of course,” you said hurriedly as your smile began to slip. “I don’t mean to pressure you.”

Alastor waved a hand dismissively before he made his way over to you. “You couldn’t pressure me if you tried, my dear.”

Your heart soared as you moved over, giving him enough room to not have to even brush against you during the night.

The Overlord climbed into your bed easily, settling against your headboard before looking down at you with a raised eyebrow. “I do hope you weren’t expecting me to sleep.”

You smiled. “Not at all.” You began to shuffle around to get comfortable and to avoid looking into his eyes when you said, “I just feel safer when you’re here, that’s all.”

The last words of your sentence had hardly left your lips before Alastor’s shadow finally moved from its place on your other side. You laughed as it nudged you over before wrapping its arms around you and pulling your back to its chest, giving you a sense of security that you had never found with anyone else.

You closed your eyes and nuzzled in, allowing yourself to be swept away in a wave of comfort and exhaustion. “Goodnight, Al,” you murmured as you drifted away. “Thank you. For everything.”

You fell asleep before you could hear his response.

So you didn’t see his eyes soften. You didn’t see him reach out and grasp one of your hands in his own. You didn’t see him lean down and press a soft kiss to your temple. You didn’t hear his last words before he began to doze as well. 

“Thank you, mon cœur.”

Part 5 Here!

A/N 2: I really hope you guys enjoyed this one!! This is an ongoing series, so let me know if you’d like to be tagged! 

I’d also like to continue writing for Hazbin Hotel, so send me requests and let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any those as well :))

Taglist: @severusminerva @anh4125 @midorichoco @rapturenyx @maybememoriesx @martinys-world @axellovesalastor @mo-0-o @looking1016 @saturn-alone @sirens-and-moonflowers

[weird-is-life]

hii! So I've never made a request before- but I was wondering if you could write a sunshine!reader × spencer where reader is a but dimmer(less sunshiney? Idk lol) than usual? Something sort of fluffy and comfort like if that makes sense :) I love your work sm and i saw your requests were open so- <33

Hii lovely ty for the request🥰! And thank you for loving my work, ily😭 hope this is okay. Warnings: fluff, reader is a bit upset, mentions of food/drink, use of pet names(0.9k)

You come to work without your usual cheery aura. You greet everybody with a smile, but Spencer sees right through it. He can tell the difference between your real smile, and between this fake smile. I mean, he would be kind of a bad boyfriend if he couldn't differ them.

Spencer comes up to your desk, his hand immediately finds yours, "hi, sweetheart."

You look up at him, fake smile already plastered on your pretty face, "hi, Spence."

"Are you okay?" Spencer whispers, trying not to draw any attention to you.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I guess I just didn't sleep well," you respond way too quickly so Spencer knows you're lying right away.

"Really?" Spencer asks softly, trying to get the real answer.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Really." You form another fake smile on your face. But Spencer doesn't push you, he knows you'll tell him in your own time if you want to.

Spencer squeezes your shoulder lovingly, and lets you get back to work. And even though he isn't going to try, and force you to tell him what's wrong, he's not letting it go.

Spencer settles on the plan to try to cheer you up, even if just a little.

Spencer goes to grab a coffee to a little café near the Bau so he grabs a drink and some sweet pastries for you as well. He even buys you a flower, just one simple flower not a bouquet, but it's your favourite so he hopes that you'll like it.

As soon as Spencer gets back to the office he makes a beeline for you. You don't notice him coming, too focused on the papers, until the beautiful flower is right in front of your face.

"Oh," you yelp in surprise, small but genuine smile right away on your lips, "what's this?"

"This," he also puts the drink and the pastries on your table," is for you."

"For me? Why?" you ask a little confused, but Spencer already can see that your mood has been lifted even if just a bit.

"Just because," Spencer beams at you.

You raise your brows at him, "just because?" you giggle. Your giggle makes Spencer almost melt away.

"Yeah, " Spencer shrugs his shoulders. He would have bought you thousands of flowers if it meant that you would smile at him like this again. He overwhelmingly wants to kiss you, but he just can't kiss you in the middle of the office.

He decides that a little peck on your cheek wouldn't hurt. He quickly looks around, and then does it.

You cheeks go rosy, "thank you, handsome. This is really nice."

"Of course," Spencer smiles at you one more time before he leaves you be. He sits at his desk, and takes a sip of his coffee.

It's missing the very much needed sugar, even if he did ask for more sugar at the café It's still not enough. He goes straight to the small office kitchen.

You notice Spencer going there, and follow him. You can't believe how sweet Spence is. I mean, you know he's literally the sweetest person on the earth, but still it takes you by a surprise every time. It makes you love him even more everytime, too.

You swear, you were very close to crying when he brought you the flower. You haven't been feeling very well since the morning. It's just one of those days when you wake up with an upset mood, and there's no actual reason behind it. It's just this way sometimes.

You know Spencer noticed this bad mood. And of course, he's trying everything he can to make you feel better without being forceful. So you want to thank him again.

"Hi, sweetheart, need more sugar too?" Spencer notices you straight away.

"No, I just wanted to say thank you again, Spence," you say sheepishly.

"No need to say thanks again. I'm glad you like my little surprise," Spencer can't help it when you're around him, his hand immediately lands on your hip.

You try to give him a smile, but you just anxiously look at him, "I just... Y-you were right. I-I don't feel good today."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Spencer softly asks in hushed voice, his hand starts to do circles on your exposed skin where your sweater has risen.

"Can we talk about it later?" You don't feel like talking about it right now. Especially not at work. You'd rather do it later with Spencer's arms around you.

"Definitely, lovely. You can come to my apartment if you want to. We don't even have to talk, we could just put on a movie or something. Does that sound okay?" Spencer proposes unsurely, he doesn't want to make you even more sad. He wouldn't survive it for sure. He's so used to your happy smiles and cheerful mood that it's weird seeing you so sullen. He doesn't like seeing you like this at all, it breaks his heart a little.

"Sounds perfect." You look at him like you want to ask him also something else, and Spencer doesn't even need to guess to know what to do. He's seen those puppy eyes on your numerous times.

Spencer quickly wraps his arms around you, instantly whispering sweet things in your ear, "I love you, y'know that?"

"I know, love you, too," you say into his shirt, already feeling a small amount of tension leave your body.

You stay like that until you are positive that you are blushing like crazy from his compliments, and until someone else comes into the kitchen for a coffee (you don't want to be another lecture about inappropriate behaviour at work, you leave that to other people).

[evilbihan]

This is probably the most unpopular of all unpopular opinions out there, but hear me out for just a second:

Can we please start to acknowledge Kuai Liang's flaws? It's perfectly fine to like a character while also acknowledging their negative traits and the bad things they've done. I'm genuinely confused by the whole "aww Kuai Liang is so nice :)" thing the fandom has going on. I understand that, being a Bi-Han fan, I might sound biased, but I promise this is coming from a completely neutral standpoint.

I don't see how any of the positive traits fans associate with Kuai Liang (kindness, selflessness, a caring nature) are backed up by any canon material we know of. Those traits belong to Tomas, not Kuai Liang. The version of Kuai Liang that is a loving brother to Tomas and the prime example of a good man only exists in fanon.

Vengeful, short-tempered, regressive — those are Kuai Liang's actual traits.

May I remind you, the real Kuai Liang looks like this.

His face expresses arrogance, he's looking down on whoever is in front of him. He doesn't smile, doesn't display any expression that one could interpret for kindness. He looks cold. Does that arrogance and coldness look familiar at all?

It's the same expression as this one. Bi-Han is also shown looking down on others, with the exact same confidence stemming from the idea that he is superior to others. Kuai Liang mirrors that expression perfectly. They're brothers, they're similar in the way they act and think, in the way they were raised. Let's not forget that Kuai Liang was second in line for the grandmaster title while with the Lin Kuei. He is grandmaster of the Shirai Ryu now. They are both arrogant.

Tomas is the only one of the three who smiles and has a warm, kind aura to him. I'm not saying he's a perfect ray of sunshine, he's certainly capable of being ruthless just like his brothers, but he doesn't share their overwhelmingly negative traits.

There is no warmth to Kuai Liang at all, which is ironic given that his element is fire. Kuai Liang's fire, however, burns cold to match Bi-Han's ice. They are not opposites, they are the same.

Hanzo as Scorpion was driven by grief and ultimately love for his family, Kuai Liang's fire is only fueled by hatred for his brother.

While Bi-Han is obsessed with power, Kuai Liang's obsession with honor and tradition is crossing the line to fanaticism. Am I the only one to find it concerning how he worships his father and his father's ideals almost religiously? It's pretty much all he ever talks about at any given chance.

to Bi-Han: "His teachings did not pass with him. They should still guide us." to Bi-Han: "Father would turn in his grave if he saw this." to Smoke: "We must chart a new course. One that both honors our Father's legacy and serves Earthrealm." to Kitana: "Death before dishonor." to Smoke: "Only if we honor tradition."

Is this how a normal person talks? I don't think so. Admittedly, Bi-Han's methods are wrong, but since when is it a good thing to be completely against progress? Kuai Liang is stuck holding onto outdated traditions that don't allow for growth. It's not necessarily a bad thing that he looks up to his father, but idolizing someone to the point of never questioning anything they do or say and giving up any critical thinking is dangerous.

There's plenty more examples in the story mode and intros where Kuai Liang brings up honor and tradition, but this post is going to be long enough as it is so I only named a few.

I want to focus more on how Kuai Liang treats other characters throughout the story.

Tomas:

Why does the fandom claim he's such a good brother to Tomas when this is the only scene in the story mode where Kuai Liang expresses any sort of care towards Tomas — in a moment where he needs Tomas on his side?

Oddly enough, he's playing at Tomas' vulnerability here by bringing up family and reassuring him that they're brothers even if they don't share blood, in direct contrast to how Bi-Han said Tomas' blood was not Lin Kuei earlier. Words he chose carefully and deliberately, not out of the goodness of his heart because he wanted to comfort Tomas, but to achieve the desired effect: to sway Tomas to his side.

Similar to Bi-Han, Kuai Liang is a manipulative and calculating character. I would even dare to go as far as to say he's even more manipulative since Bi-Han lacks the charisma and patience to be a successful manipulator. Bi-Han makes no effort to convince Tomas to join him. He can't even keep up the lie he told Kuai Liang for very long. Bi-Han's actions are impulsive and poorly planned out, he's the naive one being manipulated by characters like Shang Tsung while Kuai Liang makes smart, calculated moves. He knew exactly what he was doing when speaking to Tomas.

I don't see how that was even necessary since Tomas would have picked Kuai Liang's side regardless simply because it's the one aligning with his own beliefs, but Kuai Liang's words were a subtle "Hey, remember that I'm the one who considers you part of this family and he does not. If you don't side with me, you're going to betray your own brother."

One of the key signs to recognize a manipulator by is how they try and convince a person close to them that it's "the two of them against everyone else" or in this case "them against their older brother". Manipulators know someone's weaknesses (Tomas' desire to be a part of their family) and how to exploit them to get what they want.

There was never even the slightest chance that Tomas would have sided with Bi-Han in that fight anyway, but he also appears way more passive in it as opposed to Kuai Liang. Tomas doesn't want to fight his own brother, but at the end of the day he cares more about doing the right thing and saving innocent lives than about his inner conflict. For Kuai Liang, it's a quest for vengeance and the pursue of his own goals above all else.

I also think it's interesting that Tomas looks slightly surprised/ confused at the hand being placed on his arm by Kuai Liang. It's almost like he's not used to being reassured like this which makes you wonder how often Kuai Liang really comforted Tomas or showed any support towards him. Like Liu Kang and everyone else, Kuai Liang barely acknowledged Smoke's presence before. They're only seen exchanging occasional glances.

What has me doubt the sincerety of Kuai Liang's words even more is this scene.

Personally, I don't believe that Bi-Han has ever snapped at Tomas like that before this incident here, but I know the fandom likes to think otherwise so just for this take let's go with the wrong assumption that Bi-Han used to put Tomas down like that regularly.

Why did Kuai Liang not step in to defend Tomas in this scene? If he knew where this was going why did he let Bi-Han finish his sentence? It's certainly not out of respect or because Bi-Han is their grandmaster. Kuai Liang has no issue talking back to him and contradicting him in other situations but he was surprisingly silent when this whole thing went down.

He was either just as surprised as Tomas that Bi-Han would snap at their brother like that because it hasn't happened before or because he simply didn't care to interrupt since he had nothing to gain from it, unlike later when he wanted Tomas' loyalty for himself.

Kuai Liang could have been standing up for Tomas in this situation if he was the good brother everyone sees him as, but for some reason he didn't. Make of that what you will.

As for the intros between them, there's only one where Kuai Liang asks about Tomas' family. In every other intro with Tomas he only speaks of his own goals. Honor, tradition, training the Shirai Ryu, defeating the Lin Kuei... At one point he praises Tomas for his loyalty towards him, only to question said loyalty later on.

Scorpion: Our resolve cannot waver, brother. Smoke: I'm offended that you think mine has.

If I'm not mistaken, that's a prime example of manipulation right here. Guilt tripping/shaming someone into doing something they don't even want to do.

Kuai Liang seems to always be working an angle with Tomas. Why is he suddenly doubting him? Because he knows Tomas wants peace, not war between the brothers?

Ultimately, it seems he doesn't care about what Tomas wants. We know that Tomas is torn in this conflict, he resents Bi-Han, but he also doesn't want his brothers to fight. Otherwise, he wouldn't have asked for Liu Kang to reunite them.

Tomas' intros are a whole paradox of their own.

Smoke: Are we to be enemies for life? Sub-Zero: Unless you submit, Tomas.

Smoke: I'll never forgive Bi-Han. Scorpion: His betrayal has seared both our hearts.

Scorpion: We'll soon meet the Lin Kuei in battle. Smoke: It will be our last with them. Smoke: For Earthrealm's sake, my brothers must reunite. Raiden: There's little hope for that, Tomas.

Smoke: Can I get the brothers to reconcile? Liu Kang: They must choose their own path, Tomas.

What Tomas says to other characters contradicts everything he says to Kuai Liang. But why? Why does he never tell Kuai Liang directly that he'd just wish him and Bi-Han would stop fighting? Why if not because he's afraid of Kuai Liang's reaction and that he will lose him as a brother unless he agrees with everything Kuai Liang says?

SPOILERS: It's interesting how Kuai Liang in this scene asks Tomas to help him bring Bi-Han back with them so he won't be able to aid Shang Tsung, but according to leaks he's going to leave Bi-Han behind with Havik in the dlc, not even caring about the consequences that might have for Bi-Han or for Earthrealm. Now that Tomas isn't there he no longer has to keep up the facade. Tomas' absence also makes me wonder if he maybe got tired of Kuai Liang's spitefulness and blind hatred.

To sum it up, here's what we know about how Kuai Liang treats Tomas:

Kuai Liang initialy doesn't defend Tomas against Bi-Han's harsh words

He picks an odd timing to comfort Tomas at the Ying Fortress, possibly to assure that Tomas will join his side, not Bi-Han's

He's trying to push his own agenda onto Tomas who agrees with him in their intros but doesn't seem to share Kuai Liang's goals when speaking to other characters like Liu Kang or Raiden

SPOILERS: It seems that Tomas won't be attending Kuai Liang's wedding as he's not mentioned at all in any of the dlc leaks. He might be trying to stay out of the fight between his brothers entirely.

Bi-Han:

Another detail I've noticed is how quickly Kuai Liang comes up with the idea to create the Shirai Ryu. How likely is it that he made the decision to form an entire new clan on the spot? He seems way too prepared for this scenario.

Smoke: Once he's exposed, won't you be grandmaster? Scorpion: You forget Cyrax and Sektor. Their loyalty to Bi-Han is absolute. They'll sooner abet his corruption than follow me. We must chart a new course.

Why did Tomas not know about this when they're part of the same clan but Kuai Liang knows the answer immediately? It's almost like he has thought it through before, tried to figure out exactly who would side with him and who wouldn't if it came down to important Lin Kuei members choosing between him and Bi-Han. And that's because he has. It even says so in his official bio.

Kuai Liang always intended to overthrow Bi-Han.

He admitted that he was aware of Bi-Han's frustrations all along and yet he never brought up his concerns to Liu Kang or anyone else. It seems that he intended to take advantage of how mentally unstable his brother was in order to become grandmaster himself. I'm not saying he always wanted the title to himself, Kuai Liang doesn't care about power, but his obsession with tradition equals Bi-Han's obsession with power. He wanted to rule the Lin Kuei himself to enforce his own ideals and when he realized that wouldn't work out, he settled for the next best thing: creating his own clan.

Kitana in comparison also knows that Mileena is impulsive and many people doubt that she's fit to lead but she supports her sister regardless. Her loyalty to Mileena is unwavering. Kitana loves and supports her sister unconditionally. It doesn't even once cross her mind to take Mileena's place on the throne.

Kuai Liang and Kitana share similar values, yet Kitana's loyalty to her sister outweighs all that while Kuai Liang didn't hesitate to plot against Bi-Han way before Bi-Han even sided with Shang Tsung. Just Bi-Han's frustration alone was reason enough for Kuai Liang to want to overthrow his brother.

Ashrah, a complete stranger, cares more about redeeming Bi-Han than his own brother does. And no, Kuai Liang's actions can't be justified by bringing up that Bi-Han let their father die or betrayed Earthrealm etc. because Kuai Liang gave up on him long before any of that happened. In fact, the way Kuai Liang constantly brings up their father at every chance he gets probably added to Bi-Han's frustrations and is part of the reason why he was driven to madness.

Scorpion: Glory? We fight for duty. Sub-Zero: Does our father's ghost possess you? All I hear is his voice.

Bi-Han seems haunted by their father's ghost and Kuai Liang knows, yet he doesn't shy away from bringing it up at every opportunity. Was it done on purpose? Who knows.

But it's noteworthy that it's again manipulative behavior. The way Kuai Liang constantly criticizes Bi-Han, undermines his authority, compares him to their father whenever he can although he knows about Bi-Han's frustrations, then claims a shadow has fallen on Bi-Han's soul when he at the very least partially helped cast that shadow.

I'm not sure why people claim Kuai Liang was supportive of Bi-Han before his betrayal because there's no evidence of that at all. At least, none that I could find. Kuai Liang seems reluctant to follow Bi-Han's orders and he also doesn't seem to respect him much. Again, compare that to how Kitana shows actual concern for Mileena while Kuai Liang just seems fed up with Bi-Han.

Personally, I believe Kuai Liang's goals are far bigger than we know at this point. Something about the line "The Shirai Ryu won't rest until Bi-Han is defeated and the Lin Kuei's honor is restored" suggests that, while he built his own clan, Kuai Liang still has some interest in the Lin Kuei. I doubt that he's just planning to take down Bi-Han to let someone else be grandmaster in his place. I think that Kuai Liang wants to merge both clans once Bi-Han is defeated. After all, Kuai Liang's bio mentions that he's willing to fight his brother for control of the Lin Kuei's legacy. He might think it would be in his father's interest if he became grandmaster of both clans. However, that's just an educated guess and might not be true at all.

How Kuai Liang treats Bi-Han:

Kuai Liang never trusted Bi-Han's leadership skills or acknowledged his authority

The conflict of interest between the brothers always existed, even before Bi-Han switched sides and Kuai Liang always planned to take the grandmaster title from Bi-Han

Kuai Liang attempted to (and would have) killed Bi-Han but was interrupted in doing so

He's eager to fight Bi-Han, while Tomas is reluctant

He seems to have always held very little love for Bi-Han, if any at all, although he claims they used to be close once

Harumi:

Does no one else think it's a little bit suspicious that the woman Kuai Liang ends up "falling in love with" is a capable fighter and head of her own clan, someone with exactly the resources, knowledge and means to provide Kuai Liang with everything he needs to build his own clan? He even names the Shirai Ryu after Harumi, a clan whose goal it is to take down Kuai Liang's hated brother, someone Harumi probably knows little about or never even met. Maybe I'm the only one to think that's kind of messed up and not a romantic gesture, but at least he's giving her some credit, right? Does Harumi lead the Shirai Ryu with Kuai Liang or did he take her own clan from her to build his own? I couldn't really find any information regarding that but it would be even more messed up if the Shirai Ryu are originally Harumi's clan that Kuai Liang simply took over.

Another weird detail is how Smoke calls Harumi Kuai Liang's "good friend" in his own ending, which makes you wonder if he left the Shirai Ryu before Kuai Liang and Harumi became a couple? Does he know Kuai Liang doesn't actually love Harumi? It's confusing because Tomas is the person closest to Kuai Liang. Shouldn't he be the first to know if his brother fell in love and is planning to get married?

Kuai Liang's reaction when Kitana congratulates him on his marriage is rather cold as well. He doesn't seem like a happy, newly married man and it makes me think their marriage wasn't necessarily out of love, at least not on Kuai Liang's side.

How Kuai Liang treats Harumi:

There's not enough known about their relationship yet to really know if Kuai Liang's love for Harumi is genuine

He benefitted a lot from his friendship with her when creating the Shirai Ryu

It's strange that Tomas only calls Harumi Kuai Liang's "good friend"

Final conclusion:

Kuai Liang seems to follow a pattern of binding people to him emotionally (Tomas, Harumi... ) to be able to use them to his own advantage. I'm not saying that he doesn't care about them at all, but first and foremost, they're assets to him and family second.

For someone who claims to care about honor, Kuai Liang sure has very little of it. SPOILERS: The fact that Kuai Liang is willing to let Bi-Han die and deny him treatment when he gets infected with chaos magic says a lot about the type of person he is. How is it honorable to kick a man when he's down? How is it honorable that he wants to kill Frost during his own wedding and Harumi has to beg him to spare her life?

To get this straight, this is not an attempt to paint Kuai Liang as the epitome of all evil or to say he doesn't care at all about the people in his life, just that he's much more cold and calculating than people give him credit for. Just because Kuai Liang has chosen the good side while Bi-Han went down the wrong path doesn't necessarily make him a nice person. He's still vindictive and selfish. He still shows toxic behavior.

I know someone will try and twist this post into something it isn't, so let me say this is NOT a personal attack on Kuai Liang fans or an attempt to spread negativity, it's just my opinion that you're free to disagree with. I blame the writers and their obvious bias for Scorpion that Kuai Liang's bad traits are so often overlooked. This post is only me sharing my thoughts. If it offends you, block me. I don't want to see this reblogged with paragraphs from people trying to defend Kuai Liang.

[dadsbongos]

for honor. and duty.

3.2k words / warnings - forced breeding, injections, drugging, unhappy end, reader is written as a woman

summary - it's his job to carry on the bloodline, and its your job to love Satoru Gojo; thankless as both gigs are.

kinktober: day nine - breeding, aphrodisiac ~~~

Satoru was disinterested in fathering children. 

While he loved teaching, and teasing Megumi throughout the years was a joy, raising an entire person from scratch? An unnecessary addition to his plate he would rather be without. Besides, he was only scratching at his late 20s, why should he rush into having babies?

His feelings were not hidden, either. Everything about Satoru screamed childfree. Most respected the decision; for the Gojo clan to be written into history with Satoru as the cataclysmic final bang -- the sole pillar maintaining his clan’s status in the big three. It would be an honor and a pleasure, were he humble enough to silently accept both.

But Satoru loves whining.

“Too bad the Six Eyes and Limitless will be totally lost to time when I die…” he pouts every time he says it. Purely to gloat that not only does he have both, but he will be the last one in history, “If only someone could take them off my hands, huh?”

Maybe he should’ve just shut his mouth.

… 

“Why don’t you donate, then?” Shoko snarks one random Wednesday, finally fed up with Satoru’s haughty huffs this particular lunch break, “I’m sure your swimmers wouldn’t be unwelcome if they could make another special grade.”

“Gross, Sho,” you gag, then pointing at the man, “Don’t respond to that.”

Predictably, you’re ignored, “But who would be worthy, Shoko? Huh?” Satoru snickers when you gag even louder, “It’d have to be another sorcerer, you know? Can’t just put a super baby in any ole lady.”

“I’m sure you could find someone for a good price,” Shoko leans onto her palm, “Some high up clan girl. A Zen’in? It’d make her life better by getting out of that place, I bet.”

“Can we not talk about this while I’m eating, please?” you gesture to your lunch, though you hardly have the appetite for it now anyway. 

“You can say you’re jealous,” Satoru teases into your ear, laying his head on your shoulder. There’s no warmth of skin to feel, and if you closed your eyes the weight wouldn’t be reasonable for a human head either -- much lighter. Airier. As if he isn’t there at all.

“I’m not jealous of not being your incubator, Gojo.”

“Harsh!” he dramatically clutches over his heart, sucking in a breath like he’d been stabbed, “What happened to first name privileges?”

“Revoked,” you flick his head knowing it’ll never land. Knowing he’ll never feel you.

Shoko simpers, long nails tapping against the creaky break room table. When you shoot over a quizzical glance, those nails stretch over her lips; covering so you alone can make out what she mouths: ‘jealous’. 

You mimic the motion to mouth back: ‘fuck you’.

“Hey,” Satoru wraps both arms around you (no warmth, no weight), “Secrets among friends is asking for trouble.”

“Donating out soldier serum is asking for trouble,” Shoto snickers.

“You suggested it!” 

You roll your eyes at the pair, hoping this was the last you would hear of Satoru’s semen stumper, “Well, I’d love to stick around, but you two are disgusting.”

“Boo,” Shoko wads up the shrink of her microwave meal and tosses it at your head.

“Boo!” Satoru echoes the sentiments louder, fingers clinging to your uniform until his long arms can stretch no further.

“Yeah, whatever!” you holler back, “As if the higher ups will even let you just donate!”

Those traditional old heads will want a “proper” heir, and there is no way Satoru would get suckered into that.

It’s part of why loving him is so difficult.

Because loving Satoru means having to share him: always. He is overwhelmingly busy between his work as a sorcerer and his passion as a mentor. Your love for him will forever be yours to own, but Satoru himself could never be.

Perhaps that’s what Suguru realized when he tried years ago, when Satoru was always gone and the space between them only grew. Perhaps that’s why he decided to close Satoru out completely.

“You actually gonna donate sperm?” Shoko returns her tired gaze to her friend, quirking a brow when he laughs and shakes out his phone.

“Nah, the geezers just keep pestering me,” he mimics a flapping mouth with his hand, “Blah, blah spreading the genes- blah, blah good of the clan. As if they care about the good of the clan.”

“They might,” she snorts, clapping a hand over her mouth to hide a grin.

Both of them know full well otherwise.

“I’m just gonna tell them,” he re-pockets his phone, purposefully ignoring the buzzing call of Gakuganji, “Face to face this time, so they can’t ignore it.”

“Ooh, yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“What’re you gonna say, big man?”

Satoru smiles bright, all cocky and sure and cool, “‘There is no way that you bags of bones will ever convince me to have kids.’”

. . .

A cold, soaked cotton pad is swiped over the triangle of your inner elbow, disinfecting the area before introducing a syringe.

You once asked Satoru why he bothered remaining a sorcerer under Jujutsu Tech when he obviously hates the higher-ups. His response, of course, was lackluster and chock full of holes (“Nobody else can do what I do,” he rolls his hand laxly, “Also, it's the only thing that doesn’t make me so bored I contemplate blowing my brains out.”).

You remember rolling your eyes with a single word reply, deeply unimpressed with his typical lack of tact (“Inspiring.”). Similarly, you remember thinking that you wanted to stay by his side, despite his annoying insensitivity.

When you got the panicked call from Shoko, you considered it a test. The universe cruelly examining your dedication. Ever the fool, you sped for the address she spat over the phone to prove yourself.

Now, you can’t even have the shame of reconsideration.

The bedroom has a camera in the far right corner, on the wall opposite a large observation mirror. Men in white coats pace back and forth, scribbling notes and judging every exact twinge in Satoru’s muscles. Satoru is positioned on a king bed with white sheets, hands latched behind his back in solid shackles with a radiant lock.

“He’s not hurt, right?”

“No,” the lead man steadies a needle to the sterilized juncture, “We never want to hurt Gojo,” his eyes flick up to the pinch in your face as the needle punctures your skin, “Or you.”

“He looks miserable…”

Three doctors turn to you, glaring. The man administering a blue, gluey serum into your veins sighs loudly, “Yes, well… you will be, too…”

The doctor folding your discarded clothes on the left scoffs, shaking his head.

Sometimes you spend so much time with Satoru that you forget how mean men can be.

“It should begin taking effect in just minutes,” the man steps back, letting one of his many assistants undo your tethers, “Mostly an additive,” he clarifies, “You don’t really need it, your stamina doesn’t matter much to us here. You can head in for him now.”

Your stamina may not matter to them, but you’d personally like to be awake as long as possible for this.

“Did you tell him it was me?”

Your question is ignored. So you step through the men and creep into the other room. Casting a curious glance over your shoulder to confirm the study window only reflects yourself. And Satoru.

Satoru.

Satoru.

The name is saccharine sweet in your mind. His head twists in your direction, blindfold gone and eyes comically wide. His eyes are dimmer than usual, though that isn’t very surprising when you were explicitly told the drug dampened cursed energy.

Your eyes rake over his body -- red and writhing and naked. Satoru’s gaze falls from your face to your chest to between your thighs, eyes widening further. You know he’s had partners before (lots of them, in fact), so the shock is unwarranted. Unless, of course, it’s because it’s you and not the random woman from a high up clan he assumed it’d be.

A stern voice breaks out from the far right corner of the room.

“He is willing.”

You gnaw your bottom lip anxiously, squinting through harsh overhead lights to the two-way mirror over your shoulder. Then, your eyes return to Satoru, knelt on the mattress and bare -sans the stocks cuffed around his wrist.

“Satoru…?” your face boils, gut fairing no better. Veins direct gutters for the goopy blue in your system, and it's pumping fast.

He copies your quiet, uttering your name through the still observation room, “You?”

“Is it…” you crawl onto the bed, convinced that his skin on yours could cure the overwhelming swelter in the room, “Am I okay?”

He nods limply, hair falling into crystalline eyes, “It’s you.”

Bright fluorescents dim to a more bearable, faint glow. Swallowing the last of your reservations with the swell in your throat, you turn your back to Satoru -- both knees firm on the plush mattress. 

Though his chest beats in sporadic, panicked breaths, Satoru’s lean hips are still -- perfect for reaching between your thighs and grasping his stood cock. He clenches his angel eyes shut to your flesh, but the waves and dips of your cursed energy stubbornly persist in his vision. He sees the wavering as your lust grows, he knows his is the same. Worse, even. So swallowed up in his belly by enforced desire that a stable flow is impossible to maintain.

Satoru is easy in your grasp, slipping inside you with whimpered pleas and huffs. You curve him into you, backing onto Satoru until your soft flesh is flush with his. Heat tickles up your spine, chilling at your neck and causing a rabid shiver all down your shoulders. 

Leaning forward onto your elbows, you slip over Satoru’s cock -- sliding along him with manufactured fervor (if you focus hard enough, you can still feel the needle incision stretch in your arm). 

The stocks rattle as Satoru jerks forward with a thick groan, hips now eager to pap, pap pap! onto yours. Bonds creak, splinters wailing in protest of his strength as he claws out to reach you. Satoru throws his head back, every sensitive nerve set ablaze just by the warmth and squeeze of your cunt.

His shortburst thrusts don’t dig far enough even though you’re kissing hips every time -- he feels overstimulated and yet unfulfilled. He needs to have both hands bound on your hips -squeezing the flesh on your bones and flipping and bending and making you keen under his lithe fingers.

He cannot discern if the need is driven by drooly chemical injection or longstanding affection, and he isn’t bothering himself with the question now. 

“Wanna touch,” he mumbles pathetically, red in the face and sweat beading down his forehead, white bangs slick to the skin, “Need it…” he gasps as you arch, stretching one of your legs to curl around his thigh, “Need to touch!"

As if spontaneously occurring to the crew that Satoru is pleading with them, the leading man jingles over with his key. He looks at the sedation team for extra assurance before unlocking Satoru’s stocks. 

Once the bonds clatter to the floor, Satoru is raking his nails across your body -- thighs, stomach, back, anywhere he can reach he’s eagerly clawing. Pulling and pushing before he collapses over you, his chest scorching your back. He stretches his neck to press his cheek to yours, lips loose and babbling,

“So good, so good, love how you feel -- wanna fuck you,” his brain must be falling through his lips because he seems to forget he’s already fucking you, “Wanna fuck you, wanna fuck you, wanna fuck you,” he lays sloppy kisses over your shoulder, teething at the sensitive bone, “Gonna let me cum in you, pretty girl? Yeah? Gonna make me a daddy, yeah?”

Hanging one arm below, he swirls the soft pads of his fingers over your clit -- soaked with the syrup his cock fucks free. His large hand expands over the pouch of your tummy to snugly press his thumb into your doughy skin; thumping where he’s battering your insides.

“Feel me there, mama? S’wet ‘n’ desperate, you want me bad,” he giggles deliriously, humping at your sex in plasticine frenzy before twitching to completion.

Satoru thinks he could go all day.

Thick arms tied around your waist, keeping your chest bare to his with both knees crimped over Satoru’s shoulders. His overconfidence proves itself as he thrusts up into you, lips pressing wetly onto yours while drooling out affectionate slurs,

“Best girl, pretty and hot and so fuckin’ wet for me, aren’t you? You love me, sweet girl? I think you do- know you do.”

Satoru stills only when more cum is pumped into your womb, pitiful mewls bobbing the apple of his throat.

You’re nodding with a heavy crown, forehead thumping into his sweaty collarbones and biting cresents in his biceps with your nails, “Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh - love you, ‘Toru! Love you so much…!”

Nuzzling along your flaming cheek, Satoru wriggles you loose just to flip you around to kneel in the sheets.

“I’m tired,” he muses, fingers dancing in the baby hairs at the base of your neck, “How about you do something, princess?”

You groan and pout, but don’t disobey.

Your knees are tingling and arms shaking as you twist to nestle against Satoru. Stretching back, you splay your palms over his broad chest to balance over his standing cock; then reach between your spread legs to grasp his erection. Skin soft and warm in your palm, he whimpers at the contact and throws his head back into the plush white pillow. Snowy hair tousled against the case, hips twitching up in you.

His cock bumps against your clit in his desperation and the sensation makes you clamp your knees around his waist tighter. You’re all heavy breaths and whines by the time you finally sink base-down. His cock feels hot and thick inside you, you’re not sure if it's all the eyes or whatever they stuck in your arm or the fact you’re with Satoru but your entire body is simmering.

Satoru’s hands unwind from the sheets to cling around your hips, forcefully rocking you down on him: as if to grind both your bones into paste. Cool air catches in the back of his swollen throat, your cunt wet and swallowing him back in as he tries slipping out. He lifts his head -jaw limping open and drool pooling around his raw-bitten lips- just to watch as he lifts and drops you over his cock.

Clumsily, he jerks his knees up and feet flat on the bed as the lava scorching through his veins inspires him to fuck you faster. Sweat beading and swamping all along his hairline and joints, leaving his skin sticky and sucking against yours with every thrust. Satoru’s fingers squeeze harshly around the fat of your hips, marking the skin with plum stains in the shape of his hand. If a baby isn’t enough, then these bruises surely will be bountiful evidence of your tryst.

Suddenly, Satoru sits up fully, lips pressing into your shoulder before he stabs into bone and flesh with his teeth. His arms swiftly move to curl around your waist, flushing your back to his chest as he pumps into you. One of his hands finds your breast, squishing the swells by the handful, and the other hand swooping to toy with your clit. He works slow circles into quicker swishes, thrusts speeding as the heat climbs and climbs from where he’s inside you up to your necks. Suffocating. Enveloping. 

Ragged breaths pull with terrible effort from both you and Satoru. Wet slaps of skin and syrupy squelching echoing in the otherwise still room. Oddly, the sound is far from grotesque, instead spurring another sweetened gush around Satoru. The dirty, primal nature far overshadows the lurking men in white coats around the edges of the room.

You can almost pretend you’re wrapped around Satoru for real pleasure rather than duty.

Again, Satoru sloppily mouths at your skin, from the bend in your shoulder along your neck and unto the softness of your jaw. Arms clenching around your waist until you’re practically immobile in his embrace, bouncing along his cock only because he puppeteers you to do so. 

Satoru moans hotly against the slope of your neck, licking the sweat off your skin just because he can. You lean into the coolness of Satoru’s tongue as your gut swirls and tightens before you’re seizing in the man’s grasp. His gaping mouth is pressed against your collarbone, slobber inking across your tit and down your arm. He hugs you tighter and soaks in full the clench of your orgasm, continuing to lathe his fingers over your clit until you’re jerking and huffing in overstimulation.

You think you hear him muttering (you hope you hear him muttering), “Thank you, thank you, thank you...”

The unbearable heat is replaced by normal, merely uncomfortable heat. Satoru cuddles you against him still as he plugs you with his cum.

Soft murmurs float back into your ears, men stretching necks to gaze at the both of you and whisper amongst themselves. Satoru lazily drags the sheets high over your chest and settles back against the steely headboard. 

He yelps, back arching and eyes wide, sitting upright from the board.

“What…?” you groan, exhaustion overtaking you -- limbs numb and strewn out uselessly.

“It’s cold,” he grumbles into your ear, yawning and laying against the metal headboard again (this time prepared for the stinging temperature change), “Be nice to me.”

Weakly, you make a sound of protest from the back of your throat. Brain too fried to form words.

Satoru caresses his fingers gently over your stomach, gaze fluttering to the labcoats stiffly remaining in the room. They put much effort into avoiding his stare, heads kept low and ducking behind their collars. Rolling onto his side, Satoru keeps you caged in his arms while shielding you from the mens’ stares. 

He soothes his nails along the bulb of your cheek, six eyes searing through every layer of skin and muscle down to the beating of your heart. He knows, of course, that it beats for him.

Which makes him feel sick, beneath exasperated euphoria, because he knows why you’re here.

He knows the only way to give it back is with a baby neither of you really want.

[freelancearsonist]

I Was Fixed On Your Hand of Gold

➔ Lucien Flores x afab!Reader - 1k

➔ When Lucien gets bored, his hands start to wander. OR Lucien uses his fingers for good evil underneath the table at dinner with your friends.

➔ Rated MA for exhibitionism kink, fingering (r receiving), pet names (baby), references to smoking/nicotine use, no use of y/n, reader has female anatomy but no pronouns used. [please let me know if i missed any :)]

➔ i don't know anything about this man other than that he looks scummy and i'm in love with him. thank you to the dieter bravo brainrot club discord server for feeding my madness and to @shakespeareanwannabe for proofreading this incoherent horny babble <3 title is from 'would that i' by hozier wow what a surprise another cece fic named after a hozier song

“Don’t. Fucking. Move.”

It’s growled so low in your ear that you could almost believe it’s imagined. But with the way his fingers are dancing against your burning skin, tracing little circles along the length of your thigh, there’s nothing but intention in his voice–regardless of how raspy and deep it is.

Eager fingers push your skirt out of the way, impatient yet calculated. He moves slowly and with deliberation, careful not to show anything above the tablecloth.

“Don’t ignore your friends, baby,” he murmurs low into your ear so only you can hear.

It reminds you of where you are, and why this can’t happen right now. There’s five other people gathered around the table, all smiles and camaraderie and little sips of cheap wine. It’s been a good evening, really. But they’re your friends, not Lucien’s. He won them over within five minutes of meeting them and he’s been bored ever since. And when Lucien gets bored, his hands start to wander.

It’s wrong and you should really stop him. You should push his hand away before his nomadic fingers can climb any further up your thigh than they already have. But he finds the wet spot that’s pooling against your panties, and there’s no denying how much you want it.

It takes every ounce of your restraint not to moan when he finds your clit. It’s like his fingers gravitate to it, like there’s some kind of magnetic pull–even through the barrier of your panties, the cocky bastard doesn’t struggle at all.

He doesn’t even blink. His thick, practiced fingers swirl against the seat of your panties with ease and he doesn’t react even remotely when his fingers immediately come away soaked.

You’ve never been so wet in your life, watching him chuckle at the story your best friend is telling across the table and all the while pretending that his greedy, heavy fingers aren’t pushing your panties aside to swipe through the gathering slick.

Your knee jolts before you can control it and knocks against his thigh, thankfully not causing any noticeable disturbance to the rest of the table’s occupants. But the look he gives you is enough warning–head tipped down, dark eyes impossibly darker, jaw set. He looks dangerous, and it makes your traitorous cunt soak his fingers even further. He’ll only tell you once: if you can’t sit still, you’ll be going home aching and unsatisfied.

You need to come so bad in this moment that you feel like you might cry–so, despite feeling rather like a scolded child under his gaze–you lock every muscle in your body to the best of your ability and let the horrible, delicious onslaught continue.

You swallow thickly when you feel the first real press of his finger. It swirls from your clit down to your entrance, and that’s all the warning you get before he slowly, torturously presses it into your cunt.

He lets it rest, just for a moment, knuckle deep–he knows that even this single finger is a slight stretch. After a moment or two to adjust, he withdraws completely and you have to fight back the whine that builds in your throat. But before you can betray your impatience he’s back, overwhelmingly so, two fingers pressed deep and curled in the exact way that he knows will make you shatter. It’s cruel to do this to you right now, to find that most sensitive spot when you can’t moan or even shudder in reaction to the delicious onslaught of pleasure.

His fingers are relentless–there’s a skilled craft to the way his arm stays completely motionless while his middle and ring fingers flutter and scissor against your g-spot.

Your thighs shake from the sensation the closer he brings you to release. As much as you try to ignore it–to focus on the current story about something that happened in a grocery store parking lot last Thursday–he’s bringing you to the brink so fucking fast that there’s no denying it. There’s no hope for composure, especially once his calloused thumb joins in to swirl tight, rapid circles over your clit.

Above the table, you make eye contact with one of your closest friends and laugh breathlessly at the meaningless story they tell. They never even suspect that below the table, you’re squeezing and fluttering around Lucien’s hand as the most intense orgasm of your life sweeps through you.

It takes a solid few moments for you to be able to breathe normally again. And Lucien, the smug bastard, just leans back in his chair and spreads his leg comfortably, free hand resting behind his head in the most casual manner possible like he didn’t just make you come all over his fingers. And then, when he’s sure no one is looking, he brings his right hand up to his lips and sucks his fingers deep into his mouth–looking directly into your eyes as he does so. He licks every drop of your cum from his digits so carelessly in front of your friends that it nearly makes you come again.

You think he’s had his fill. Your head stops swirling and he laughs along with your friends and you think he’s done. You’re wrong. 

He takes your hand in his and laces your fingers together, guiding you ever-so-slowly to palm him through his loose sweatpants. His cock is straining, hard and insistent, against the thick cotton fabric–it makes you squirm in your own seat a little bit.

He’s impossibly casual about your touch as he wiggles a half-spent pack of Marlboros from his breast pocket.

“Go ahead, baby,” he mutters right into your ear. “Take care of your fuckin’ mess.”

And who are you to decline after he so generously took care of you?

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[luv-unknwn]

Serene

daryl dixon x fem!reader

summary - ♡ you and daryl go on a run and things dont go entirely as planned....but in a good way

SMUT SMUT SMUT

a/n - ♡ ik this isnt that good i haven't slept and its almost 6 am so i aint editing it anywaysss, im watching the show for the first time rn and i just could NOT resist writing smth for daryl so enjoy!! 🤭

(changed the name cause i realized i forgot to change it so it didn't make sense pls)

"no- god damn it girl gon get us killed out here if you keep lookin round so much" daryl grabbed your wrist to pull you along the muddy trail, nearly falling on your ass from his fast pace. "keep up, quit draggin your feet"

"fuck off man its nice to get out of that damn prison sometimes and see the world even if it is filled with walkers and assholes like you" you snort, pushing forward so you're walking ahead of him. "besides, the slower i walk, the more time we spend together, and i know that you love hanging out with me so much, dont you, D?”

going on runs had become a favorite activity of yours, somehow even with daryl being such a grumpy gus, it was serene. walking through completely empty towns; the opposite of the now packed prison you were living in.

“oh come on, don’t pretend you don't love me” you giggle at daryl's annoyed look. you'd grown somewhat of a crush for daryl in the last months, as much as you wish you hadn't, it's been nice having something to focus on rather than the overwhelmingly loud but silent nights in the prison.

it was the simple head nods as you pass each other, and him asking specifically to take you on runs, always staying in front of you when something goes wrong. those were the things that really fueled this crush, which carol had pointed out to you. you'd honestly always thought there was something going on with those two but when she asked you about how close you and daryl had gotten she assured you they were only best friends.

“ain't got time for your wanderin today girl, lets go-” a twig snaps to your left. “get behind me”

the walker stumbles out from the trees grunting, growling, and drooling toward daryl before he shoots an arrow right into his left eye. not so aware of your surroundings a walker comes out of the trees behind you grabbing onto you, you fight against its hold. just as you get a hand free to reach for your knife, daryl shoots the walker and it falls loudly to the ground.

“-shit” you gasp in big breaths of air. you reach for daryl's arm grabbing hold for stability, “thanks, D.”

“‘course, won't let nothin’ bad happen to you” you practically melt at his words and the vulnerable look in his eyes when he says it, like he's telling you an important secret he's never told anyone else.

you're so close you can feel the heat coming off his body as your eyes move from his to his mouth. never wanting something so bad in your entire life.

he's pulling away before you can even think to move toward him.

“best keep goin ‘fore it gets dark” his words are dismissive, completely ignoring the clear sparks flying between the two of you just seconds ago.

“right, you're right” clearing your throat a bit awkwardly, you speed up so you're walking ahead of him, trying to focus as hard as you can just on the task at hand.

the first few houses you search were pretty much empty save for a can of beans. the next one however had an entire cabinet filled with things you could take back to the prison, but not before you and daryl have a few snacks to refuel for the trip back.

“maybe we should stay the night here? we can hit a few houses on the way back in the morning, it's getting late and i dont wanna be walkin’ back in the dark” you suggest to daryl from the living room of the house.

“‘kay, lets find some blankets n stuff we'll camp out in here” daryl's voice is right behind you when he speaks, startling you from looking at broken picture frames of the family who used to be here.

you managed a makeshift bed on the floor with the few blankets and pillows you found in the bedrooms. you and daryl now laying there staring quietly up at the ceiling.

“were-” daryl starts to say something but stops before he can even get the first word out.

“what is it, D?” you whisper, turning your body so you're laying on your side facing him.

“were you gonna kiss me earlier?” daryl's uncharacteristically hesitant voice whispers into the quiet room.

the air in the room is suddenly thicker than before and the closeness of you and daryl seems almost too close.

“was i- was i gonna kiss you? i mean i don't know you were so close and just you know it's not like i meant t-” you're cut off by daryl suddenly pressing his lips against yours gently, staying unmoving for a few seconds until your brain catches up with you enough for you to kiss back.

the kiss deepens when you reach your hands around his neck to pull him impossibly closer to you, his own hands sliding down from your cheeks to your shoulders to your hips.

“daryl i- i need you,” you whisper against his lips when you pull away a bit for air.

he pulls back farther to look into your eyes.

“you sure ‘bout this?” his voice is genuine, even as his hands are already under your shirt going farther up until he reaches your bra, stilling there while he waits for your answer.

“yes, please daryl” you'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about this many times. daryle above you while you're begging for him.

the moment the words left your mouth he was sitting you up to pull your shirt over your head, quickly reconnecting your lips with a moan so low it could have been a growl.

daryl pulled away to reach around you and unhook your bra, letting it fall between you.

“fuck,” he sighed, letting his head fall to your shoulder at the sight of how perfectly your boobs fell naturally.

seconds later you were pushing his vest off and pulling his shirt over his head, throwing it across the room and leaning down to kiss over his muscular shoulders. daryl's hands fell to your boobs while you left reddish-purple spots all over his throat and shoulders.

“lemme get these off baby” he was already unbuttoning your jeans when you rose to your knees to help him pull them down off your ass, sitting back on the floor so he could pull them and your shoes completely off. he was feeling up and down your soft legs, the way he was squeezing your thighs making your core tighten around nothing. “so pretty f'me.”

daryl's hands trailed up your legs to the soft cotton of your panties, he groaned when his rough fingertips grazed the wet spot leaking through them.

“lift ya pretty legs honey” he grunts out, when you listen he pulls your panties down your legs. the cool air of the room hitting your wetness makes you whimper quietly. “s'even prettier than i imagined,”

daryl pushes your knees farther apart to get a better look at you before he bring a finger up to graze your wet entrance, sliding it up to press gentle circles against your clit, making you gasp from the stimulation.

“god that feels good, please don't stop” you're whining when he finally pushes two fingers into you, starting a steady pace while keeping his thumb on your clit moving quicker each second. you're an absolute moaning mess below him, your back arching against him.

“y'like that sweetheart? like how m'fingers feel inside you, yea? y’gonna cum f’me baby?” his words are only pushing you closer and closer to the edge, your legs shaking around his hand.

“fuck- shit you're g-” you cut yourself off with a louder moan when he quickens the pace of his fingers, “s’good at this”

“c'mon baby, cum f'me, all over my fingers. thats right, good girl.” his words are what push you over the edge, the filthy words mixed in with his gentle praise has you shaking as you ride the intense waves of your orgasm. “such a good girl f'me”

when your breathing starts to slow back to a normal pace you feel daryl pull his fingers out of you and being them up to his lips, sucking your juices off his own fingers.

“that was- wow” you saw still trying to catch your breath, legs not fully stopped shaking either. before daryl can say anything else you're reaching for his belt to undo it.

“no, s'alright. wanted to make you feel good, go to sleep” he says grabbing your t-shirt and pulling it over your head.

“but-”

“nah if ya really feelin’ up for it, in the mornin’ you can, but we gotta get some sleep tonight” daryl leans over and kisses your forehead and pulls you down to lay on his chest.

and that's exactly how you woke up in the morning, cuddled up on the floor, clothes thrown around the room, hickies everywhere.

[steddieas-shegoes]

i could listen all night

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is wanting to hear every detail of their day'

rated t | 803 words | cw: recreational drug use (weed) | tags: established relationship, stargazing, they're so in love

💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟

"And it's not even that I'm worried about failing the test!" Steve said as he leaned back against the wall of their too-small balcony. "I did a practice test yesterday and only missed one question. I just feel like it's too easy."

"I think you're just smarter than you give yourself credit for, Stevie," Eddie said as he exhaled smoke.

"I don't think that's it."

Eddie rolled his eyes fondly.

They didn't love their apartment. It was on the third floor of a three story townhome that seemed to be a revolving door of large families who couldn't make rent after a couple of months. They'd get close to someone on the first floor and they'd be evicted two months later. They'd finally have a quiet neighbor below them only to find out it was an old man who was moved to a nursing home a month after moving in.

But they at least had this balcony that faced a parking lot of some business that was empty and closed by the time they needed to smoke.

And when Steve graduated, they could move closer to whatever school he ended up working at.

"What if I don't graduate?" Steve asked quietly, reaching out for the joint Eddie had just taken a third pull off of. "What if I'm doing all this for nothing?"

Eddie turned to Steve as much as he could, covered his hand in comfort. "If anyone knows what it's like not to graduate, it's me. And it's not the end of the world. It may feel like it at first, but just because you don't do it when you think you should doesn't mean you won't ever. You're smart and you work hard, sunshine, you're gonna graduate."

"You have to say that. You're my boyfriend."

"I don't have to say anything! I told you just this morning that you were stupid if you thought I wasn't gonna wake up just to kiss you goodbye," Eddie pecked his cheek and took the join back from him.

He knew Steve got emotional if he smoked too much, and he'd already reached the glassy eye part of the high. Better to stop him now.

"Other than your professor scaring you, what happened today?" Eddie asked casually. He wanted to hear about everything, and Steve liked talking about it.

"I had the best cup of tea. The library was giving free cups to students who donated $1 to the writer's club. So I guess it wasn't really free, but still, $1 for the best cup of tea I've ever had isn't bad." Steve leaned his head on Eddie's shoulder. "I studied for an hour between classes and saw these two women making out. One was like, a lot older than the other and I'm almost certain she was a professor with a student. Don't know what that's about."

Eddie raised his brows, but stayed quiet as Steve continued.

"And then I managed to eat my sandwich after my second class. Best one you've made yet. Perfect ham to turkey ratio," Steve kissed his neck.

"Glad you liked it, sweetheart."

"Oh! And there's gonna be a student run show next Friday. I get two free tickets if you wanna go. Maybe we could make it a date night?"

"I think that sounds lovely. Write it on the fridge and I'll make sure I'm home in time to get ready for it," Eddie took one last drag from the joint before putting it out in the ash tray he grabbed from the flea market downtown when they first moved in. "Anything else today?"

"I got to sit outside and look at the stars with my boyfriend. That's been pretty nice," Steve whispered.

Eddie felt his cheeks heat up, never quite used to how easily Steve shared his love and affection. He'd been like that before they were even together, overwhelmingly honest.

"Was he good company?" Eddie teased, leaning his head on top of Steve's and looking up at the few stars they could see in the city.

"He's always good company."

Eddie kissed the top of Steve's head and settled back.

"What about your day?" Steve asked, sinking further into his side.

"My day was boring." Eddie sighed. "But we have new releases hitting the shelves tomorrow. Those days are always fun."

"Any you want?" Steve sounded tired.

It was barely eight at night, but the weed was hitting and he'd been up since five that morning going nonstop.

"Might grab this local band's demo. We're the only place carrying it and they're hoping to do a show in our basement next month, but we'll see. Brad said we had to see how the demos sell."

"Sounds like fun," Steve said.

"You wanna go inside, sweetheart?"

"Not yet. Keep talking. Wanna hear about everything."

"Mkay, baby."

[nylibrty]

wus good / curious ⸝ ⸝ ⸝ b.stewart

「pairing」 breanna stewart x rival!reader

「summary」 getting stuck in an elevator with your rival ends in unexpected ways

「cw」 smut. a lot of yap, semi-public sex, choking(??), hate sex

「notes」 elevator fic.. rushed ending my bad...

you were already in a bad mood. it was a blowout game, 98-72, your rival team winning. so when you walked down the long concrete hallways of barclays and saw the only elevator quickly closing, the anger inside you only bubbled.

from your distance, you could only make out the figure of a tall person standing in the elevator. "hey! wait—hold the door!" you shouted, picking up your pace as you approached the doors.

relief washed over you as you saw a hand poke through the closing doors to open them once more. that relief was quickly taken away from you as you saw just who exactly opened the door.

"you've got to be kidding me." you groaned under your breath.

breanna stewart—your career long rival—was standing there, a smug smirk coming across her face as she watched you walk in. "not too hurt after that loss, right?" she grinned, raising her eyebrow.

your sour mood returned just as fast as it left, thanking god you were only forced to stand so close to her for the short elevator ride. "shut up, stewart." you retort, forcing yourself into the furthest corner from her.

she let out a breathy laugh, returning to looking at whatever was on her phone.

the ride was going smoothly, you were practically counting down the seconds until you could get the hell out of this elevator and catch a cab to your hotel. the storm outside raged on, it scared you slightly, but you could never show fear to something so silly in front of your rival.

the one that you fucking despised.

the elevator shook slightly, causing breanna's head to shoot up. It abruptly stopped with a loud bang and the shaking of the elevator cab. then it went pitch black, only being slightly illuminated by the emergency light in the corner, it was small and only glowed blue.

"oh you've got to be fucking kidding me right now." you sighed, a little louder than you wanted, breanna took a step closer to you.

"no way you're scared right now," she laughed.

"how are you not?!" you let your head fall back against the metal walls of the small elevator.

"it's just the storm, it happens all the time." she shrugs, tapping the red emergency call button. but to her dismay, it didn't make the beeping noise it normally did. she gulped, fumbling her phone into her pants pocket to attempt to hit the button again. but once again, nothing happened.

"do something!" you shouted at her.

"what the fuck do you want me to do? i pressed the button!"

"i don't know, stewart! just fucking fix it so i don't have to be here with you anymore," you groaned, desperate to get out of this tiny elevator.

she scoffed, crossing her arms and stalking towards you. "how is this my fault? its not my fault your team lost."

"no, actually, it is your fault we lost. you blocked me like 50 times," you argued back. as much as you were angry at her, you couldn't help but clench your thighs together. her impossibly calm demeanor and the soft blue light glowing on her made her stupidly attractive.

"you shouldn't be so easy to block." she laughed, raising her eyebrows slightly at you.

you groaned again, only getting more annoyed by her cockiness. "i fucking hate you stew—"

and before you could finish your sentence, you felt her lips crash against yours, her slim hand finding your hair. she pulled away from you, light blue eyes looking into yours, "is this okay?" she asked, her hand still laced in your hair.

"please, stewart," you whined, your hands running down her body, attempting to grab wherever you could. before you knew it, her lips were smashing into yours once more. she overwhelmed your senses. she tasted like something was so uniquely breanna, but also of vanilla and citrus. she smelled overwhelmingly like men's cologne, almost intoxicatingly so. one of her hands planted firmly on your ass, squeezing it slightly while the other tugged your hair.

you two sat there for a moment, fully immersed in one another. breanna pulled away, out of breath, "if you're loud, i'll stop." she said firmly, her hand traveling down to the button of your jeans. with ease, she popped the button open and slid the zipper down. you whimpered at the feeling of her long, cold fingers dipping into your panties and swiping through your folds.

"somebody's excited, hm?" she teased, feeling how impossibly wet you were. you turned your head away, letting it fall gently back against the metal wall. her hand found your chin, cupping it lightly and moving your head to look at her once more.

"keep your eyes on me." her fingers dipped into your soaked cunt, sliding in easily. you struggled to hold back the moan that was forming in your throat, letting it slip. her free hand was brought up to your face, two fingers pressing on your lips, begging for entrance. you parted your lips slightly, surprised to feel her pointer and middle finger press down on your tongue.

she raised her eyebrow, "what did i say about being quiet?" you attempted to come up with a response, but were unable to say anything back due to her fingers in your mouth. she slipped them further into your mouth, causing you to gag slightly.

the pace of her fingers inside you sped up while her thumb circled tightly across your clit. you struggled to moan around her fingers, successfully keeping you quiet. she leaned into you, and you felt her hot breath against your ear while her fingers kept up a relentless pace. her other hand was snugly against your mouth, fingers deep in the back of your mouth which only added to the arousal.

a part of you hated that you were giving yourself to your rival so damn easily, but the other part knew that this was coming sooner than later. you two could feel the sexual tension every time you had a game, and you were sure as hell everybody else could, too.

you could feel your orgasm quickly approaching, her fingers moved impossibly fast, and you weren't gonna last much longer. your fingers weaved in her hair, tugging slightly. to your surprise, a small moan left her throat when you did that. you grinned at that, tugging again but harder and recieving an even louder moan in the process.

"i thou—fuck—thought i was the one who was supposed to be quiet." you grinned, still teasing her even if shes knuckle deep inside you.

"shut up," she thrusted her fingers faster into you, throwing you off the edge and head first into your orgasm. your nails clawed down her white tank top as you rode out the climax.

"doin' so good for me babygirl," she mumbled against your ear, not letting up on her pace.

as if the elevator knew, the red emergency button began to beep rapidly. breanna removed her fingers, licking them clean before walking over to the set of buttons.

"are you just gonna pretend like that didn't happen?" you frowned.

"do you still want to be in this damn elevator?"

she made a good point. while she talked to the responder through the small speaker, you stood and watched her. maybe the feelings you had towards her weren't only anger and hatred.

after what felt like forever, the cab began moving again, and you two were being pulled out of the elevator by two firefighters.

"do you wanna.. uhm, come home with me?" she asked sheepishly.

[hvman-scvm]

NECROLUST || SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

PAIRING ;; SIMON “GHOST” RILEY / SENTIENT ! ZOMBIE ! READER (MALE, YOU/YOUR PRNS USED)

SUMMARY ;; love beyond the grave ig

CW ;; Simon is kinda sick on the head but we love him anyways, borderline romantic necrophilia ?? I guess. No actual smut included tho, usual zombie stuff like rotting n whatnot, established relationship, kind of silly ngl ?

WRITER’S NOTE ;; the title is a mayhem song bcuz I’m a total poser. There’s so much stuff 4 zombie ! Ghost which - don’t get me wrong- I like, but there’s barely any love 4 zombie ! Reader, and luckily ghost is just full of it.

Simon sighed in focus, a medical needle in hand as he sewed up your jaw for what had to be the 100th time, not that he minded; he loved taking care of you. It was hard to keep your jaw in place with how soft your rotting flesh is, how it kept ripping with the smallest movements.

He shook off a maggot that crawled into his hand, tying off the last thread and leaning in to kiss the newly sewed up, slimy skin where your jaw connects to the top of your skull.

“Better?” He spoke softly, he knew you understood him, although you never spoke back. The way your clouded eyes landed on his briefly let him knew that you not only hear him, but understand what he’s saying to you. As you moved your jaw up and down experimentally, you rapidly moved forward, trying to latch your teeth on whatever of ghost’s flesh you would reach first. But he was faster, tutting as he put a hand over your mouth, not affected by the sight of your maggots crawling over his gloves.

“Bad. No biting.” He said as if he was speaking to an untrained dog, before patting your head almost condescendingly. He reached around for the muzzle they keep on you and quickly attached it over your head, receiving a growl in response.

“You’ll be fine, love.” He said sincerely, looking at you sadly; he missed you. He missed being able to have conversations with you and feeling your warm skin on his own. He brought you to his chest, getting another growl. He sniffled, tears threatening to spill from his eyes as he kissed the top of your head. “They’ll find a cure, I promise.”

It was a daily routine; he’d patch you up, then getting overwhelmingly sad at your helpless state- at his helpless state. He wished he could find a way to bring you back. But a part of him, a part he buried deep inside himself, found enjoyment in this. He loved how reliant you were on him in your rotting state, loved the way your clouded eyes held eye contact with him and how incomprehensible growls would leave your rotting vocal cords whenever he would ask a question.

He caressed the top of your head, kissing it gently as he leaned his face on it. The smell of rot filled his nostrils, and he found himself taking it in by inhaling deeply. It was intoxicating.

[dailyadventureprompts]

Tableskills: Creating Dread

I've often had a lot of problems telling scary stories at my table, whether it be in d&d or other horror focused games. I personally don't get scared easily, especially around "traditionally horrifying" things so it's hard for me to recreate that experience in others. Likewise, you can't just port horror movie iconography into tabletop and expect it to evoke genuine fear: I've already spoken of being bored out of my mind during the zombie apocalypse, and my few trips into ravenloft have all been filled with similar levels of limp and derivative grimdark.

It took me a long time (and a lot of video essays about films I'd never watched) to realize that in terms of an experience fear is a lot like a joke, in that it requires multiple steps of setup and payoff. Dread is that setup, it's the rising tension in a scene that makes the revelation worth it, the slow and literal rising of a rollercoaster before the drop. It's way easier to inspire dread in your party than it is to scare them apropos of nothing, which has the added flexibility of letting you choose just the right time to deliver the frights.

TLDR: You start with one of the basic human fears (guide to that below) to emotionally prime your players and introduce it to your party in a initially non-threataning manor. Then you introduce a more severe version of it in a way that has stakes but is not overwhelmingly scary just yet. You wait until they're neck deep in this second scenario before throwing in some kind of twist that forces them to confront their discomfort head on.

More advice (and spoilers for The Magnus Archives) below the cut.

Before we go any farther it's vitally important that you learn your party's limits and triggers before a game begins. A lot of ttrpg content can be downright horrifying without even trying to be, so it's critical you know how everyone in your party is going to react to something before you go into it. Whether or not you're running an actual horror game or just wanting to add some tension to an otherwise heroic romp, you and your group need to be on the same page about this, and discuss safety systems from session 0 onwards.

The Fundamental Fears: It may seem a bit basic but one of the greatest tools to help me understand different aspects of horror was the taxonomy invented by Jonathan Sims of The Magnus Archives podcast. He breaks down fear into different thematic and emotional through lines, each given a snappy name and iconography that's so memorable that I often joke it's the queer-horror version of pokemon types or hogwarts houses. If we start with a basic understanding of WHY people find things scary we learn just what dials we need turn in order to build dread in our players.

Implementation: Each of these examples is like a colour we can paint a scene or encounter with, flavouring it just so to tickle a particular, primal part of our party's brains. You don't have to do much, just something along the lines of "the upcoming cave tunnel is getting a little too close for comfort" or "the all-too thin walkway creaks under your weight ", or "what you don't see is the movement at the edge of the room". Once the seed is planted your party's' minds will do most of the work: humans are social, pattern seeking creatures, and the hint of danger to one member of the group will lay the groundwork of fear in all the rest.

The trick here is not to over commit, which is the mistake most ttrpgs make with horror: actually showing the monster, putting the party into a dangerous situation, that’s the finisher, the  punchline of the joke. It’s also a release valve on all the pressure you’ve been hard at work building.

There’s nothing all that scary about fighting a level-appropriate number of skeletons, but forcing your party to creep through a series of dark, cobweb infested catacombs with the THREAT of being attacked by undead? That’s going to have them climbing the walls.

Let narration and bad dice rolls be your main tools here, driving home the discomfort, the risk, the looming threat.

Surprise: Now that you’ve got your party marinating in dread, what you want to do to really scare them is to throw a curve ball. Go back to that list and find another fear which either compliments or contrasts the original one you set up, and have it lurking juuuust out of reach ready to pop up at a moment of perfect tension like a jack in the box. The party is climbing down a slick interior of an underdark cavern, bottom nowhere in sight? They expect to to fall, but what they couldn't possibly expect is for a giant arm to reach out of the darkness and pull one of them down. Have the party figured out that there's a shapeshifter that's infiltrated the rebel meeting and is killing their allies? They suspect suspicion and lies but what they don't expect is for the rebel base to suddenly be on FIRE forcing them to run.

My expert advice is to lightly tease this second threat LONG before you introduce the initial scare. Your players will think you're a genius for doing what amounts to a little extra work, and curse themselves for not paying more attention.

Restraint: Less is more when it comes to scares, as if you do this trick too often your players are going to be inured to it. Try to do it maybe once an adventure, or dungeon level. Scares hit so much harder when the party isn't expecting them. If you're specifically playing in a "horror" game, it's a good idea to introduce a few false scares, or make multiple encounters part of the same bait and switch scare tactic: If we're going into the filthy gross sewer with mould and rot and rats and the like, you'll get more punch if the final challenge isn't corruption based, but is instead some new threat that we could have never prepared for.

Art