#lucky fools campaign

[wtfforged]

my campaign hiatus has gone on for too long so to cope ive combined my interests at their maximum potency and had some dnd-strawhats thoughts

thoughts in depth under read more... :)!

this is SO self indulgent. their designs literally did not change. but i am a firm believer that dnd doesnt have to be european high fantasy. and also one piece literally IS fantasy. no changes are necessary to fit into dnd. ive already imagined plenty of campaign/oneshot ideas inspired by one piece. so this was basically just an exercise of trying to replicate their canon abilities in dnd 5e as much as possible without totally homebrewing everything. well. aside from luffy. you just cant take away or change his stretching.

LUFFY: (human monk. drunken master subclass. outlander)

the only plain human of the crew to balance out with the fact that he still has rubber powers. obviously a monk. but drunken master subclass specifically because i think the flavor(not the fact that its about being a drunkard) and abilities both fit him really well. this line in the subclass' flavortext especially fits him: "A drunken master often enjoys playing the fool to bring gladness to the despondent or to demonstrate humility to the arrogant, but when battle is joined, the drunken master can be a maddening, masterful foe."

ZORO: (tiefling fighter. samurai subclass. bounty hunter)

a fighter with the samurai subclass is so very incredibly obvious... but i actually had a lot of fun geeking out while comparing the abilities to what he can do in canon; Fighting Spirit, Rapid Strike, and Strength Before Death especially! tiefling is also pretty on the nose for his demon pirate hunter shtick and asura form, but i thought he'd be really human-passing for a tiefling and theorized about his tail getting cut off at some point or another before joining the strawhats. initially wasnt gonna give him a feat, but i gave sanji a feat so i thought itd be unfair to not give him one as well, so sentinel fits the bill pretty well i think!

NAMI: (tabaxi rogue. arcane trickster subclass. criminal)

cat burglar -> full grown literal humanoid cat. this one is INCREDIBLY self indulgent... i love... cats... theres nothing deeper to this and no other reasoning. i took cat burglar and ran with it. can you tell that i love izutsumi dungeon meshi? rogue for the aforementioned burglar-ing as well, and the arcane trickster subclass for when she picks up climatact! the mage hand will be very useful for her pickpocketing. in the future as she levels up with timeskip, i can totally see her multiclassing into wizard as well! weather wizard!

USOPP: (lightfoot halfling artificer. artillerist subclass. urchin)

I HAD SO MUCH FUN THINKING ABOUT HIS CHARACTER SHEET. halfling's Naturally Stealthy ability lets him hide behind his crewmates since theyre (almost) all bigger than him, so its perfect for hiding behind zoro or sanji all the time. Lucky is also perfect for him, and I think Brave fits pretty well too when he puts on the sogeking mask. artillerist artificer is also very fun! tinkering and making magic items for his crew, and i think Eldritch Canon or Arcane Firearm could both be easily reflavored as kabuto or any of his inventions. for emphasizing his sniper-ness, the spell sniper feat was also necessary. i think hes my favorite of all the concepts. big ears and long nose combo is so cute to me.

SANJI: (half-elf monk. drunken master subclass. guild artisan (cook!))

race was mostly based on vibes i wont lie. squints. and that vinsmoke balogna or whatever too ig. but mostly vibes. along with the idea that i think a dwarf zeff raising him would be really funny and cute. monk is also obvious, and same subclass as luffy for mostly the same reasons. though the flavor fits him much less, i think the abilities still fit him perfectly, and this blurb specifically; "Your martial arts technique mixes combat training with the precision of a dancer." i really wanted to give him a different subclass from luffy, but i dislike all the other monk subclasses a lot and i found none of them fit him as well anyways, so to try and give them SOME differences, i gave him the crusher feat.

CHOPPER: (awakened deer(shifter statblock) cleric. life subclass. hermit)

this ones definitely a mouthful im sorry. awakened deer for obvious reasons, but due to magic instead of devil fruit stuff. when i was struggling with his race, i looked a lot at shifter because of his forms, but it occurred to me that itd be super cool if he could shift between all of the different shifter options instead of being stuck with just one to replicate his rumble balls. something like heavy point/guard point=beasthide, horn point/arm point(?maybe?)=longtooth, walk point/jumping point=swiftstride, and brain point=wildhunt. hed definitely need some kind of nerf though to balance out that homebrew... and cleric for class. duh.

ROBIN: (high elf wizard. order of scribes subclass. criminal)

robin is definitely the one i struggled the most with just because of her class. elf came pretty easily- shes very elegant and i think shed look cute with super long ears- and i landed on high elf instead of wood elf for the int-based abilities. i was really on the fence between sorcerer and wizard for her because i knew shed be a full spellcaster, but i didnt feel that any of the subclasses really fit her. i ended up going with wizard for order of the scribes since it focuses on texts and knowing everything. but also because robin with a flying talking sentient book would be crazy cool. it could also be similar to how she spawns mouths and eyes places to talk to or watch people. my "fuck it, why not. this would be rad. its my house" mindset kicked in with her i will admit. also the One with the Word ability made me cackle out loud when i read it. thats the funniest ability ever. anyways, i cant really think of a way to replicate her powers, but maybe we could just reflavor a bunch of spells to be her limbs or clutch; hold person, maximillian's earthen grasp, or evard's black tentacles. thatd probably work okay, and theres a handful of spells to replicate her ability to spawn eyes or mouths. unrelated, but i imagine nico olvia to be a drow. why? her hair is white. i am a simple man!

[sterek-stuffs]

Do you get annoyed when people say the Sterek fandom is dead? Well, prove them wrong by reblogging this fresh new rec list of fics published in the past three years!

Pulling Strings by Gia279 54k words, M

Stiles and Derek pull off the ultimate game of survival charades: fooling the alpha pack into thinking their leader, alpha of alphas, demon wolf Deucalion himself, is still alive, in order to find the location of the Darach and save Beacon Hills and their pack, while Stiles learns to control this brand new, unusual power.

The Curse of the Love Sweater by HisBeloved 56k words, E

The "sweater curse" or "curse of the love sweater" is a term used by knitters to describe the belief that if a knitter gives a hand-knit sweater to a significant other, it will lead to the recipient breaking up with the knitter. When Stiles and Derek were children, a misunderstanding created a rift between Claudia Stilinski, owner of The Hale Yarn Company, and Talia Hale, the best knitter and spinner in the county, leading to the opening of Lucky Ewe, Claudia Stilinski's yarn store. Stiles and Derek have been lifelong competitors at the Beacon County Fair and after their mothers died, became owners of competing yarn shops. Derek is a budding knitwear designer on the eve of the release of his first book of patterns. Stiles wants him on his popular knitting YouTube show despite the decade-long feud between the Stilinski's and Hales. Hijinks, fluff, and ridiculousness ensue, and the boys get their happy ending.

Don't they know it's the end of the world? by flemoncake, mute90 20k words, M

Stiles thought being in love in a dangerous, post-apocalyptic world was a bad idea. He voted for pleasant, casual sex all the way. But being afraid of love doesn't stop it from coming after you. Being afraid doesn’t stop anything from coming after you.

love in suspension by creationmyth 6k words, T

They walk side by side back to the camaro, Derek’s all tensed up while Stiles hums some unnamable tune under his breath. When they finally break the treeline, Stiles pulls Derek by the arm so they’re face to face. “Thank you,” Stiles tells him quietly, making sure Derek knows he’s sincere. “It’s what we do.” It is. It really is. (or: Stiles and Derek learn, over time, how loyalty becomes love.)

ouroboros (get it right) by yesimirreputable 5k words, M

You try again, and the story's always the same: you never make it past eighteen.

a light and darkness in the heart of the forest by thedaughterofkings 10k words, T

There's a beast in the forest, they say. If you call to it, it will answer. To save his mom, Stiles will face up to it and hope the price won't be higher than the reward.

nothing but hope and virtue by dappledawndrawn, LeafZelindor 60k words, T

Senator Derek Hale, a California Democrat, had considered a future where he needed to hire a new campaign manager. He'd always expected to hire someone from inside the campaign. They'd have been familiar, respectful, come into his office carefully, with nervous excitement, and called him "sir" too much when asking for their first assignment. They'd have been familiar with the ins and outs of working with a werewolf pack, and everything would have been fine. Not great, maybe, but fine. But instead, Deaton retires with no warning, and almost sight-unseen, he hires Stiles Stilinksi, who is sprawled across his office couch, entering random contacts from Derek's Rolodex into his phone. Derek's a little in love with him. It's going to be a long campaign.

Fairy Wings and Beastly Tails by Bliz, PalenDrome (nerdherderette) 8k words, T

The prince knows it’s risky. He thinks about how he could manage without his wings; what his life would be like without flying or the ability to do spells. He thinks about his father and Scott, and all the others he’d leave behind if he fails. But then he thinks about the creature and the sadness in those green eyes, and how the image haunts his dreams. “I’ll do it,” he says as the Oak Witch’s grin grows wide.

Bite the Moonlight & Bleed Gold by raisesomehale 86k words, E

Seven years after being tricked and imprisoned by the Argents, Derek Hale finds himself off the blistering coasts of Antarctica aboard the Argentum Domina, an illegal prison ship out of which the Argents operate their behemoth, underground poaching empire. Bitter and packless, Derek spends his days working off his servitude by poaching creatures for Gerard to sell on the Black Magic Market, no future or end in sight. Until, Allison Argent brings him a capture case with a reward price so ludicrous that he has no choice but to accept. The only problem is, the target creature shouldn't even exist. Derek is flung fast into the deep webbings of a bigger mystery than he could have ever imagined. And discovers that, like this enchanting creature, not everything is as it seems.

My Soul to Keep by jacyevans, Jmeelee 18k words, T

Stiles came with a whiteboard, and blue dry erase marker, flapping it over his head like a white flag on a battlefield. "Come on," he coaxed. "You must want to say something. You've never gone this long without telling me to shut up." He waggled the marker in Derek's face. Stinging alcohol and pungent polymer singed Derek's nose hairs. His fingers itched to pick up the board, and not because he wanted to tell Stiles to be quiet. He enjoyed the babble that filled the apartment every few days, the hearty food, Stiles' particular, reassuring smell: maple sugar buzz, spicy-sweet deodorant, milk-sour frustration, floral shampoo, and spring grass at night. It soaked into Derek's couch, his bed, his skull. If any of it were real, Derek would take the board and write: thank you.

A Functioning Adult’s Field Guide to Enemies With Benefits by BisexualGoblin (LadyBoBo) 31k words, E

The six years Stiles was away for college, he certainly missed a lot—namely the whole best friend turned into a werewolf thing. But he didn’t think he missed enough to get replaced by a douche bag like Derek Hale. Now with Scott’s wedding looming, it’s the perfect chance for Stiles to show Derek who the real brains of the operation is. If only he could stop jumping into bed with him…

Let's build a beehive by GreyHaven 25k words, G

Ten years after he last saw Derek, Stiles' life is in ruins and he has nowhere else to turn. He has Derek's address but will he be welcomed? A post canon AU about healing, growth, acceptance, and love.

Handstands For You by Fenris13 15k words, E

"No, really, you don't have to—!" Stiles hisses, flinching as Derek rubs soap with needless intensity into the cut. "Shut up and keep still," Derek growls back. Stiles whines in response, squirming in Derek’s grip but otherwise following the order. Stupid werewolves and their stupid regeneratey-healy powers. It’s not Stiles’ fault that he’s wimpy and human, so when he gets thrown down a flight of stairs and through a rotten wooden wall by lake monsters, he still remembers it the next morning.

Shaking the wings of their terrible youths by Daisyapples 29k words, N/r

Stiles didn't expect much when he stopped a stranger being attacked in an alleyway. He didn't expect the wolf following him around New York, didn't expect the help when he was sick, didn't expect the psycho blond attacking him, or the place to stay. He didn't expect the new family. Oh, and he definitely didn't expect werewolves.

Dear Fellow Traveler by lanalua (this is me!) 32k words, M

Years after shit went down in Beacon Hills a traumatized Stiles is dating Lydia and living in New York, trying to avoid and get over anything related to the supernatural. When he finally decides to go back to his hometown and face his fears, he will be lead down a path of self-discovery that will change the course he had set for his life. Stiles shook his head. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Derek, it was just that he couldn’t. If he’d had magic the whole time, did it mean he could have been less useless back in highschool? Did it mean he could have helped, maybe kept Erica and Boyd alive? Kept Derek and Scott from leaving? It was too much. Guilt tore through his stomach like an arrow. He felt himself start to hyperventilate again.

As always, check the tags in individual fics to find out if they're right for you, and don't forget to leave the authors some love!

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Do You Play?

Day #3 - Prompt: Best Friends | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Goodie (Freak) | Pairing: None | Tags: Making New Friends, Playing D&D

"Can I sit?" a voice beside him asks, startling him.

Goodie looks up, annoyed. He's engrossed in his book, and now there's a boy he's never seen before standing over his lunch table. 

"Uh, I guess?" he answers, because nobody's ever asked to sit with him before. Not even the new kids. Everyone learns pretty fast to stay away from the freak. 

"Cool, thanks," the other boy says. Then adds, "I'm Jeff. My first day," he explains, gesturing around. Yeah, Goodie's aware. He wouldn't be approaching Goodie if he knew anything about anything in this shitty middle school.

Goodie nods as he sits, his lunch tray slapping against the table.

"This is the part where you tell me your name," Jeff prompts, and Goodie sighs. 

"Goodie," he says. Waiting for it: Goody-goody. Little goody two-shoes. Sam Goody.

He's heard it all. He doesn't give a shit anymore. It's unoriginal and tired, and he refuses to play along. Not even for the new kid.

"Do you play?" Jeff asks, seeming to bypass the usual foolishness.

"Play?" Goodie asks.

And Jeff flicks the book in Goodie's hand: Dungeons & Dragons: Rules for Fantastic Medieval Wargames Campaigns Playable with Paper and Pencil and Miniature Figures.

Oh. This is what he's gonna make fun of, then. Great.

"Trying to learn, if I could get this read," Goodie says, pointed. Dismissive. 

"Me too," Jeff says, opening his backpack, holding it out for Goodie to look into, and sure enough, there's a copy of a similar book on top of all Jeff's textbooks.

Goodie admits, "That's cool."

"We'd need a referee. Or, a Dungeon Master as they call them in the later books. Do you want to do it?" Jeff asks.

And Goodie does not. He shakes his head no.

"You know anybody else that plays, then?" Jeff asks. 

Goodie doesn't, and he shakes his head again. 

Jeff nods, accepting his answer, "Well. The two of us can play, but one of us has to be the Dungeon Master," Jeff says, picking up his square piece of pizza and taking a big bite. 

Fine. Goodie will be the referee, the Dungeon Master, but he doesn't want to. Not at all.

They have their stuff spread out on the picnic table in the woods outside of the high school, the only secluded place Goodie knew about. They can't exactly do this in the library. Ms. Waterson would have their asses.

But they're finally playing. It took a couple weeks to read, and learn, but he thinks they finally have a working campaign, as basic as it is.

They are both laughing, having a good time, as Jeff rolls the dice again and Goodie reads from behind his folded out Trapper Keeper he's using as a makeshift screen.

He's about to tell Jeff his fate, when Goodie catches movement out of the corner of his eye, but it's gone in a flash, and he feels a sense of dread. 

"Somebody's here," he hisses, and Jeff turns to look. "Don't look, dummy!"

And Jeff swings his head back around, pretending he wasn't looking. Too late for that.

Goodie tries to ignore the bear, or whatever the fuck it might be lurking in the woods, and goes back to stumbling through the shoddy campaign he's tried to cobble together. It's awful. He wants to play, not host. 

Then he sees it again, the movement behind one of the trees.

"Okay, I know you're there. Come kick our asses or whatever, and then leave us the hell alone!" Goodie hollers, not willing to play peek-a-boo all afternoon.

He thinks nothing is gonna happen, but finally a face pops around from behind the tree.

Eddie Munson.

Great.

The eighth-grader with the buzzcut. The one that's an actual freak. Just what they needed.

From everything he's heard, Eddie Munson is mad at the world, and Goodie isn't about to draw any of that negative attention towards himself. He's no fool. So, he looks away, and hopes Eddie will just leave.

They aren't that lucky. Goodie never is, so he doesn't know why he thought today would be any different.

"What're you boys up to?" Eddie asks, walking over towards the table, and Goodie pro-actively reaches out, trying to protect the set-up. They spent weeks on this, and all of their allowance money. He doesn't want to dig the pieces out of the dead leaves on the ground.

"Just playing a game. Dungeons & Dragons. Ever heard of it?" Jeff asks, like a goddamn fool. 

Goodie glares at his new best friend, trying to relay that this is not the kid to talk to. Abort mission, shut up, Jeff.

But Jeff didn't shut up, and now Eddie nods, sitting down at the table, right next to Goodie, and Goodie resists the urge to scoot away. But he doesn't. Show no weakness. That's what his dad always says. Easier said than done.

Eddie picks up his hand-painted dragon miniature and looks at it closely. Carefully. 

And then Eddie smiles, the barest hint of a grin, "Can I join?"

Can Eddie Munson play with them? Oh, sure, and then later they'll all go to The Hideout for a few beers, Goodie thinks, sarcastically.

"Sure!" Jeff says, excited, "Do you want to be the Dungeon Master? Goodie's terrible at it."

Goodie scoffs.

"Hey, either of you play an instrument? There's a talent show coming up. If we win, that'd be some nice cash to get a new campaign going."

Jeff looks at Goodie, and Goodie shakes his head, adamantly.

"Goodie can play the bass! He's pretty good!" Jeff shouts, and Eddie grins. 

"Excellent," Eddie says, a smile splitting his face, "that's excellent."

Goodie can't help it, he grins back, just a little. Maybe this won't be terrible, after all. For now, he pushes his notes towards Eddie so he can get up to speed on what they do have right now, while they all dream about what they might be able to play together in the future.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

I got a good idea, what if the reader became aware that the bsd characters are self aware. So they stop reading and watching it, and playing the game because they think their hurting the characters.(this would happen before the bsd characters got into our world)

I am aware that you are aware

Self-Aware! BSD Characters x GN! Reader

Description: You liked BSD Mayoi Inu Kaikitan game. So many features, so many cards and story up to fourth season. You still baffled, that the game not that popular.

Why others think that your new cards is a fanart? Why people tell, that you can't get multiple SSR tickets from Marble Shining? Why The Internet tell, that game only describes two seasons and part of Dead Apple? And why people can have different nicknames in game, isn't it supposed to be your real name?

Warning: OOC. English is my second language.

🐾 You just wanted to show, how lucky your pulls were in current scouts "Casino - Rats in the house of the Dead" and "Casino - Decay of Angels"

🐾 You made a screenshot of 2821 Fyodor D. "Casino", 3711 Pushkin "Casino", 5243 N. Gogol "Casino" and 1638 Sigma "Casino"¹ and post it on BSD Mayoi Subreddit.

🐾 You got comments. Lots of comments, praising the fanart... Or asking, why did you post an April Fools' joke now, not on First of April?

🐾 Fanart? Joke? What do they mean? It wasn't a fanart, it's an official card! You clearly remember doing a daily free 11-scout! And getting them!

🐾 But, a tiny seed of doubt appears in your soul. Was it possible, that so many people didn't get the cards? Or... Didn't see the scout?

______

🐾 Next strange thing happened, when you Shine the Marble for Ranpo. For this week it was a Campaign "10 shines for one click". The Marble Turned prismatic, and you exchange it for SSR Scout Ticket. Well, for a few SSR Tickets. You got lucky again and win "Detective Chance". A familiar phrase appeared in a text box near Ranpo's chibi:

"Great Job, [Y/N]! You deserve a little bonus! Let's collect more cool marbles later!"

🐾 You smiled. It was cute.

🐾 Unfortunately, one of your fellow students saw everything you were doing.

🐾 And they blamed you for playing a hacked game.

🐾 You snarled at them. If they are playing BSD Mayoi and were unlucky with Marble Shining today, it's not your fault. You aren't cheating. Besides, they were looking on your phone screen without your permission. And what if you were texting some private information during that?

🐾 They spat at you, mumbling something about 'there is no marble campaign right now' and 'never they gave you five tickets for a marble'.

🐾 They were rude, yes. They were in the wrong by looking at your phone screen. But... They won't gain too anything by lying. Especially, to you. You also play BSD Mayoi, you could check.

🐾 Could you?

🐾 You didn't notice, that chibi Ranpo opened his eyes. And his look wasn't the friendliest.

🐾 The next day you learned, that yesterday's student got some serious private information leaked. Something about blackmail and stealing other students projects. They will face some trouble.

🐾 ... Quite an interesting coincidence...

_______

🐾 You don't know, what made you do it, but, when your grandma asked you to download an app, that will remind her taking her medication, you decide to look up BSD Mayoi Inu Kaikitan game in app store.

🐾 Different icon. Not yours. Different screens. And comments...

🐾 Asking, when third season will be added... For more Fyodor cards... For adding Gogol cards... Asking for a Dead Apple Scout rerun... That was up last time almost five years ago.

🐾 This comment was from two days ago. But, Dead Apple Scout was just one month ago! You got Dazai's, Fyodor's and Shibusawa's cards!

🐾 They were wrong! Or... You were wrong...? Or no one was wrong.

🐾 You download necessary apps for your grandma.

🐾 And start thinking.

_______

🐾 You spend two hours in the library, using the university's computer.

🐾 Search information about BSD Mayoi in any language you could think of.

🐾 Online translators might not be the most accurate, but they let you understand the main idea.

🐾 There was no more story in game outside The Dragon Head Conflict. And the situation didn't change for years.

🐾 Aya, Rimbaud, Flags, Adam, Verlaine, Karma, Katai, Oda's orphans, Pushkin, Goncharov, Oguri, Gogol, Sigma, Tetchou, Teruko, Fukuchi, Jounou and Bram didn't have any cards on any server. And Tachihara didn't have a Hunting Dogs version of his card.

🐾 Some Scouts didn't have a rerun for ages.

🐾 Marble Exchange can give you one SSR Ticket for Max Level Marble.

🐾 There were never Junchirou's menu with daily recipes. Or Katai's menu with tips for keeping your phone safe. Or Mori's with fashion tips.

🐾 Devs never gave away SSR Cards as present for Maintenance end.

🐾 Characters never send notes with gifts to Players, thanking them.

🐾 Players could choose any nicknames, not their real names.

🐾 Either you get a special version of an app... Or... Characters were... But, it's impossible, right?

🐾 Were there any way for you to prove it?

______

"I love BSD for using small Easter eggs for people, who liked literature. But, I wish, they would do it more often. For example, real-life Junchirou Tanizaki and Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald were friends! They even play shogi together. And in BSD Tanizaki and Francis are barely interacting with each other."

After you finish talking with your friend, Ango immediately rushed to get the camera, and Junchirou and Francis start to set a scene. Tomorrow you will get a card you want! Card, that reflects their other world counterparts.

[Next Day]

"Oh! SSR card with Fitzgerald and Junchirou playing shogi? And it's called "Old friends"? Good... So Devs knew about that... story..."

Your voice sounded... Off. And Little Light trembled for some reason.

"Story, that I made up two days ago to test my theory. You... All of you can hear me, right?"

BSD Cast feel, like they were struck by lightning. They wanted to make a surprise to you and reveal, that they are self-aware, only when they got into your world.... Well, doesn't matter, they could try to speak to you, now...

Why are you crying? Who have hurt you?

Your voice were pleading. You sobbed.

"I am sorry! I am sorry for not realizing it sooner! I am sorry for every hit you got, when marble hit spikes or poison, or when enemies hit you! I am sorry, for reading about your lives, for learning your secrets without permission! For... Making you relive your lives... And for... Hurting you... Killing you..."

At the end, you were hysterical. You were the reason for Rimbaud's, Flags', Oda's, his kids', Gide's and Shibusawa's death. You were the reason, they got hurt. You howl, remembering that time, Kunikida lost his arms.

"I am sorry! I am sorry! I am so sorry!"

BSD Cast were in distress. You misunderstood the situation! They weren't angry! They liked you and will never hate you!

But with next words their world shatter.

"I... I won't read about your lives anymore. Or watch about it... I... won't play the game anymore... I won't delete it, because I am not sure, if this won't hurt you... I am sorry!"

You close the app.

Little Light fall on a floor, sobbing.

_____

Few days later you got an email from yourself. And from them.

"Dear [Y/N],

Please, listen to us. You didn't hurt us in any way! We aren't angry, we promise! You... Your love and understanding let us through our darkest times. We were lost, confused, we didn't know who we are. But you, you were here. You treat us and our emotions like we were real for you.

Please, open the app... We add chat, we want to talk to you.

BSD cast"

You re-read the letter a few more times. Then again. And again.

After some thinking, you opened the app.

______

You were chatting for a long time. You asked about how they became self-aware, what were happening, when you read new chapters. You asked about deceased ones, whose cards you got (you have never been happier in your life, after learning, that they were alive. Because of you). You asked if they felt pain, when they loose HP in game.

And BSD Gang asked you about your life, your interest, if they can add something else in the app that you need.

And about wanting to get into your world. About wanting to live in reality. And be your friends.

You have a feeling, that it was a beginning of something unique.

______

🐾 You keep your decision about not watching and reading BSD. They weren't characters anymore. They were real people.

🐾 You also stopped cleaning Battle Stages in Mayoi. Instead, you were chatting with the gang.

🐾 Slowly but surely you learned more about each other.

🐾 So, when they finally appeared in your world, you greet them like old friends.

______

¹ Something interesting about numbers:

2821 - "The Gambler" by Dostoevsky was the author's 28th work. And it was written in 21 days, because Dostoevsky lost all money he had by gambling and need money as soon as possible.

3711 - In "The Queen of Spades" by Pushkin the winning combination in the card game were three, seven and ace (considered 11 in some games and in the novel)

5243 - "The Gamblers" play by Gogol was played on stage for the first time in 1843, on 5 of February.

1638 - Year, when the first Casino in Europe was open.

[morganbritton132]

Idk why this popped into my brain but it occurred to me that Eddie was probably on those celebrity editions of game shows. Celebrity Jeopardy, Celebrity Who Wants to be a Millionaire, etc…

And it just made me laugh so hard. The idea of Eddie Munson with Regis. Of calling Steve as a phone a friend for a basketball question and Steve being like Eddie I don’t know everything about basketball. But the answer is Larry Bird.

Just TikTok finding clips of Eddie yelling “suck it, Dan Cortese!” after obliterating them all at final jeopardy.

This fills me with so much joy! I love it so much.

Eddie does not go on Celebrity Who Wants to be a Millionaire by choice. He pissed off the band’s manager just enough that they signed him up for it without his knowledge, and he’s not doing it. He got the letter in the mail and it’s not happening.

Eddie ‘Six Years of High School’ Munson is not going on national television and making himself look like an idiot when he doesn’t even get to be in on the joke. No way.

“Dick move, man,” Gareth shrugs after Eddie put his foot down. “Even if you fuck the first question, they’re still gonna donate to your charity of choice. And like, maybe this is just the amount of money needed to cure cancer. Or epilepsy.”

“…You fucking suck, Gareth.”

“Yeah, I do!”

Eddie begrudgingly shows up and goes through the whole rigmarole to get mic’ed up, just ready to make a fool out of himself and call it a day. It turns out that he knows a lot more than he thought he did because he breezes through the first round of questions.

He knows enough about history, music, and the arts just from planning his D&D campaigns and reading about things he likes. He’s surprised by how much surface knowledge he’s gained from listening to the kids logic their way through their science and math homework, but sports are a bust.

He gets lucky on a few questions, but ends up using his Phone a Friend to call his partner, Steve. Steve and Eddie spend the first fifteen seconds arguing about how Eddie shouldn’t have wasted his phone a friend on Steve because he doesn’t know anything. And then once he hears the question, he’s like, “Larry Bird” and hangs up.

Eddie doesn’t win a millionaire dollars for his charity, but he wins quite a bit.

Afterwards when he’s still so hyped up about not being dumb, Steve’s just like ???? “Ed, you were never dumb. You just had trouble taking tests and none of your teachers accommodated your very obvious ADHD. You’ve always been brilliant.”

“Now everybody knows it.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “Yeah, they do.”

Eddie signs up for Celebrity Jeopardy himself.

One of the first things that Steve and Wayne bonded over was a love for Jeopardy. Wayne has watched Jeopardy before he left for work for as long as Eddie has known him, and Steve was more than happy to sit with him when it was on. They both continued to watched even after Steve and Eddie moved to Chicago and sometimes they’d call each other if Final Jeopardy was “crazy.”

The band wasn’t touring as much as they used too and they’re all pretty much working on their own projects at this point. Steve’s finishing up his master’s degree while teaching full time and doesn’t really have a lot of time for him. Eddie is in between projects and creatively tapped out, and worst of all, he’s bored.

So when his manager passively mentions Celebrity Jeopardy, Eddie tells him to sign him up for it. When they accept his application, the only people he tells about it are Dustin and Nancy.

He only tells them because he wants their help studying for it because he wants to win this time. So, they study and it sucks. If Eddie ever sees another world famous Nancy Wheeler flashcard again, he’ll tear off his arm. He hates every second of their study sessions.

Eddie makes it through the quarterfinals and then he makes it to the semi-finals (knocking out Dan Cortese). He doesn’t win the tournament because he bets big on a Daily Double and gets it wrong, but he’s fairly close to the lead after Final Jeopardy.

It’s not bad for a guy that failed his senior year three times.

The fun part comes when it airs. He painstakingly sets up their camcorder so Steve won’t notice it before the show starts. The video he gets has a good five minutes of Steve fussing with a blanket up until they say ‘Eddie Munson.’

Steve looks up and then looks at Eddie, and then back at the tv, “Wha- what? Is that – that’s you! You’re on Jeopardy! Eddie, you’re on – oh my god, we’ve got to call Wayne.”

Before Steve can even do that, their phone is ringing and Steve answers it like, “HE DIDN’T TELL ME EITHER!” while Eddie is laughing his ass off.

When Eddie posts a TikTok about it like, ‘LOL remember when I was on Jeopardy?’ it includes this moment. It also includes footage from the semi-finales where Steve is just pacing the living room and repeatedly telling Eddie to just tell him if he won or not. Steve cheers like he’s at a football game when Eddie wins.

It’s just as tense when the video cuts to Steve watching the finale. Steve knows the answer to the daily double that Eddie gets wrong and is like, ‘This is why they should do Jeopardy Couples, we’d win so hard.’ Steve’s not even disappointed that Eddie lost, keeping the same enthusiasm through the show and then is like, “I’m married to a Jeopardy contestant. I’m so telling Janet about this at the staff meeting tomorrow.” 

[cacoetheswriting]

celebrity skin. (part six)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 6.2k summary: moving on is not as easy as it may seem. unless, of course, revenge is in the mix.

a/n: this chapter also features steve harrington x popstar!fem!reader

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, post-breakup emotional hurt / very little comfort, minor use of pet names, mentions of recreational alcohol & drug consumption — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!

& psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that she’s a little shorter than eddie.

celebrity skin. masterlist

Falling in love was not nearly as magical as you grew up to believe. 

Turns out, not everyone is as lucky as your parents. Not everyone gets to find the person they want to be with and just live out the rest of their time together, just like that. No muss, no fuss… no pain.

And recently, all you’ve felt was pain. 

Heartbreak caused by the man that’s done it before. You should’ve been smarter than to let him do it a second time, but lost in the chocolate of his eyes and the softness of his skin, you believed in the love you so desperately craved since you were a kid. You believed in his love. Believed he wouldn’t hurt you again, simply because he promised he wouldn’t. Hushed mantras in between the kisses he trailed along your jawline. “You make me the happiest I’ve ever been,” he’d repeat like a prayer. In reality, a fool is what he made you.

For the whole world to see at that.

ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST

EVEN HONESTY COULDN’T KEEP THEM TOGETHER

WHY HEAVEN AND HELL DON’T MIX

The list of borderline patronising, and also rather sexist, articles on the downfall of your short-lived relationship with the Corroded Coffin frontman haunted you for months. It didn’t help that they were all lies. Figments of journalistic imagination that only had one thing in common: you were nothing but a lovesick girl, and Eddie ever the conqueror of Hollywood’s elite. Gone was the title of America’s favourite popstar. Replaced instead by “Oh, you’re Eddie Munsons ex, right?”.

Your management team was scrambling to get out of this PR nightmare as quickly and effortlessly as humanly possible, because they didn’t grow your career to the superstardom level it was at, only for you to be regarded as an ex-girlfriend of someone far less popular than you. The team did everything, from pushing brand advertising campaigns forward, releasing a previously stashed single with no promotion, and even faking sightings of you with New York’s most eligible bachelors — (it was actually Val in disguise, more than willing to help). 

While all of this was going on, you resigned to rotting away in bed.

The New York apartment you called home yet again, was cold in comparison to Eddie’s mansion. Every item of furniture, every decorative piece, all carefully picked out by you back when you first bought the place, seemed out of place. No longer bringing you the intended joy. You missed the blank walls of Eddie’s living room, the feel of the hardwood floors underneath your bare feet, the once unused kitchen, his display of vintage guitars. You missed his California King. Missed the way it would form perfectly around your frame every time your head hit the pillows. Most of all, despite desperately trying not to, you fucking missed him.

Eddie Munson was your downfall, yet every fibre of your being ached to be close to him once more.

Memories of your time with the metalhead flashed before your eyes every minute of every day that’s passed since he stomped all over your heart, making it bleed. What made matters worse, you were convinced Eddie didn’t miss you, didn’t think about you nearly as much as you thought about him, if even at all.

The reality couldn’t have been more different, but you didn’t know that because the morning Eddie broke you for a second time, his actions were accompanied by a conscious decision to stay out of your life for good. It wasn’t what he wanted. He just didn’t see an alternative, your grandmother’s threat ringing in his ears as the look on your face visibly changed in front of his very eyes from awe to despair.

In the months that followed the split, Eddie also thought about you all the damn time. 

Everywhere he went, there you were. Or rather the ghost of you. A memory so vivid, he instantly felt nauseous. He screwed everything up for a second time and even if he wanted to somehow fix it, he knew the only way to do that would be by telling the truth, but even Eddie Munson wasn't an asshole enough to come between a girl and her Nana — no matter how evil the old hag was.

Instead, Eddie focused on his music. 

The resounding success that was Honesty, a song about you, performed with you, made the pretext of spending day and night at the studio a little more realistic ‘cause “the band needs a few more songs to complete the album”, he’d say to Marianne. She knew the real reason behind the hours Eddie spent locked inside the recording booth was the sudden, and by all accounts, unexplained breakdown of his relationship with you. She also knew not to say anything.

By all accounts, things were going quite smoothly for Eddie. Sure he felt like a fucking prick for hurting you the way he did — yet again — and on most days, the guilt was eating Eddie alive, but his actions, and their unfortunate consequences, fueled an endless supply of songs he couldn’t deny were about you. Songs that would undoubtedly make the album the best thing Corroded Coffin have ever released. Shit. Did that also make him selfish? He wondered if it was fair that his creativity blossomed while you were hurting. He wondered if profiting off this heartache was the right thing to do. Would it make you more mad? Would it break you even more?

Then he saw it.

MISS AMERICANA MOVES ON 

What the fuck.

-

“Did you forget that you promised to come help me shop for dresses?”

You groan at Val’s question, pulling the blankets over your head until your face is entirely hidden and a faint darkness envelops around you. This is your safe space now. This is where you wish you could stay for all eternity, but alas, the universe always seems to have other plans.

“Val,” you mumble under your breath, “I say this with all sincerity, please fuck off. I’m clearly in no shape to hold up to my promise, so just take my credit card and ask a friend to go with you instead. Please.”

She huffs, and even though you can’t see her, you know she’s rolling her eyes. Then, without skipping a beat, she does the exact opposite to what you asked her to do, opting to yank the covers off you entirely with a wicked grin. 

“I am done letting you wither away, okay?” She states, “It’s been months of self-pity and I’m fucking sick of it. Everyone is sick of it. Jesus, he broke your heart, big deal. People get their heart broken all the damn time and you don’t see them wasting away in bed.”

“Because they don’t have the privilege to.” 

It was the wrong thing to say.

“Nana calls you an ungrateful brat all the time, behind your back of course. I think you just proved her point.”

The sting of Val’s words causes you to visibly grimace, but you can’t say you didn’t deserve her hostile push back. You were acting like a brat. Saying the wrong things in the heat of the moment, you knew better than that. You were taught better than that. Just like you were also taught to uphold your promises, keep your word and do the things you said you would do. 

With an exaggerated sigh, you stand, and for the first time in months, you go get dressed in something that’s not an overpriced pyjama set. Val cheers you on, proud of  herself for being the person that could convince you to leave the confines of your apartment, even if it was only for one afternoon.

Fifth Avenue is a Manhattan staple. Stretching from Greenwich Village, where you grew up, all the way to Harlem, a secret favourite, if anyone ever asked. Personally, you opted to steer clear of Fifth Avenue as much as you could, though, being one of the most expensive shopping streets in the world, it made sense this is where Val asked Hank to escort you two. Especially, since after hours of browsing stores your little sister normally couldn’t afford on her own, your journey’s end is Saks.

“Tell me again why we’re dress shopping? You hate dresses.”

“Because, since you’ve pretty much turned yourself into a recluse, Nana asked me to join her at the upcoming charity function she’s throwing. Her one demand was that I need a dress.” Val explains, browsing through a carefully crafted selection of garments. “Preferably expensive.”

“She didn’t say anything to me,” you say, furrowing your brows.

“Like I said, recluse.”

You sigh. Nails, overdue a manicure, now at the brim of your lips, threatening to push through at any given moment. It was a bad habit. Something you’ve recently done a lot because speaking your mind clearly wasn’t good enough and only led to misfortune. This was the only way you could ease the anxiety surrounding the mess you’ve made of your life, as gross as it was.

“Well, I didn’t want Nana, or anyone else for that matter, saying I told you so, or thinking I had it coming since apparently I was the only person that had blinders on when it came to…”

His name got stuck in your throat like a bad apple. A choking hazard that brought tears to your eyes and caused your chest to heave suddenly with bated breaths. Clearly, you hadn’t gotten over him, otherwise you wouldn’t spend your days locked up in your apartment. What you didn’t realise though, was that you hadn’t said his name out loud since that fateful morning in his kitchen.

“Fuck you, Eddie.”

The vile tone behind those three words rings in your ears. Of course he deserved it then, there’s no denying that. He still deserves it today. If you were ever to see him at any Hollywood function, you’d either ignore his presence entirely or greet him the same exact way you said your goodbye: “Fuck you, Eddie.”. But for a split second, you feel sad that this is the way you remember his name on your tongue.

“We wouldn’t have made you feel worse, sis.” Val says, oblivious to your inner turmoil. “What do you think of this one?” She proceeds to steer you further away from your deprecating thoughts by holding up a simple red dress. Single strap, maxi length. Exactly the opposite of her usual style, primarily because it was a dress and Val always said she’d rather be caught dead than wearing something designed to limit her movements.

“It’s gorgeous,” you compliment, “Exactly your style.”

If she detected your tiny, white lie, she didn’t say anything. Although, judging by the elated look on her face, no one's opinion really mattered anyway. Not even the one she asked for. The one from her famous older sister.

“It really is, isn’t it? I’m gonna try it on.”

Wanting to see your genuine reaction to her wearing the garment, Val asks you to momentarily join Hank, and wait outside the private dressing suite. You giggle at her, missing the fact that this was the first genuine laugh you let out since Los Angeles, and step outside the heavy door without protest.

Hank greets you with a tight lipped smile, but doesn’t say anything. He never does. You liked that about him, especially considering everyone else in your life always had too much to say. Hank’s silence was like a breath of fresh air. However, unknown to you yet, this time, Hank should have been talking, saying literally anything, repeating any old story, ‘cause then, his deep voice would mask what unfortunately catches your attention next.

It’s not really a squeal, not really a groan either. It’s honestly not really any distinct sound, just something that echoes down the hall, reaching your ears and causing Hank to stop the tune he was quietly humming. Both your heads snap in the direction of the noise, just in case it is something you should worry about, like a paparazzo that somehow snuck in, despite the heavy Saks security. Unfortunately for you, the person that comes rushing around the corner is a lot worse than any ol’ shutterbug.

Suddenly, at the end of the hallway, in all her redheaded glory, appears Max Mayfield.

Recognition feigns across her features as her movements come to a halt the second she sees you perched up against the corridor wall. Her mouth parts in shock, proving that she’s clearly just as surprised to see you here. 

Having never officially met, Max still knew exactly who you were. And not because of your fame, the articles about you and her brother. No. Judging by the look in her piercing eyes, Max knew you more intimately. She knew you from the stories that fell directly from Eddie’s lips. She knew details of your relationship that were kept secret from the public. Hell, she might’ve even known more than you.

You don’t get to ask her though. You don’t even get to say ‘hello’ because she glances behind her shoulder, your gaze following just as quickly. Holy shit, you think, knees now wobbling underneath you. If Eddie walks around that corner you might… Well, frankly, you don’t know how you’d react. You also didn’t really want to find out. Not now. Not here. Not like this.

So your fingers reach for the door handle and you’re just about to push it open, retreat back inside, when the person that’s with Max comes into view.

The disappointment that briefly rushes through you is unmatched. Even if you didn’t really want to see the rockstar, you still wished he was actually here. Instead, you’re now face to face with another brunette with hair just as wild as Eddie’s. Only his attire is different. The suit that’s perfectly tailored to his slender frame is also undoubtedly expensive. Armani, you notice.

“Jesus, when will you learn not to—”

He sees you then. The same exact look that Max is currently sporting spreads across his sharp features, so he must know you too. Difference being, you don’t know him.

“Oh shit. Sorry. We, eh, we were told no one was here.” He apologises, glancing between you and Hank, who’s posture is proper. Intimidating.

You step out in front of your bodyguard. An unspoken signal that says he doesn’t need to tell these people to get lost just yet. 

“That’s okay,” you reply to the stranger, quickly weighing your options in terms of what the next words to spill from your lips should be. One more glance in Max’s direction solidifies your decision. If her brother is going to repeatedly break your heart and get away with it, you’re going to play dumb and pretend he didn’t really matter to you.

With a polite smile and a swift extension of your hand, you introduce yourself. First to the mystery man, then to Max. The redhead is slightly more apprehensive about the hand shake, but she takes your extended fingers in hers regardless before saying her own name, as if you didn’t already know it.

The guy you now know as Steve clears his throat. 

“We’ll come back.” It’s simple. Meant to ease the awkwardness since the three of you clearly knew what — or rather, who — you had in common, but none of you seems willing to say the name aloud first.

“That’s okay,” you repeat, “Stay. We’re nearly finished anyway.”

And right on queue, Val calls your name from inside the private dressing room. You excuse yourself, leaving the two to exchange a knowing glance, and a whisper, undoubtedly about what they should do next.

Val, of course, looks breathtaking in the dress she picked out. Hand on your heart, you stare at your little sister in awe, wondering, probably for the first time ever, when the hell did she grow up so fast. And it’s an odd feeling that spreads through you. Pushing down the heartbreak momentarily, is melancholy for all the time you lost with your siblings because you were too busy being a star. It brings tears to your eyes, but you push them down quickly since you’ve been called dramatic enough for one day, and right now, it was all about Valentine.

“I think I understand why you’re always wearing skirts and dresses,” she says, spinning in front of the large mirror with the biggest smile on her face.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I feel like a fucking princess.”

A soft giggle escapes your lips. You agree with her sentiment, then add, “You look like mom.” Meaning it as the highest of compliments and her eyes twinkle at your words. 

“She’s going to love this dress.”

You nod. “She’s going to love you in this dress.”

It’s decided, just like that. The dress is being bought and Val thanks you ten times over for offering to pay for it, along with a pair of Louboutins to compliment it. You tell her it’s the least you can do for finally getting you out of bed, then you tell her that you’re glad you did this together — biting your tongue when it came to the apology for missing so many key moments in her life, because again, this moment was about her, not about the guilt you suddenly felt for focusing too much on your career and too little on your family.

Using the phone inside the private dressing room, Val calls for one of the Sales Assistants to come up, and while you two wait, you leave her again to get redressed in her normal clothes. 

Max and Steve are gone. 

That’s the first thing you notice when stepping back into the corridor. Hank doesn’t say anything as to their departure, unsurprisingly. He does, however, hand you a receipt from a nearby coffee shop. There’s scribbles on the back of it: ‘MEET ME’, along with an address in Brooklyn.

“From the redheaded girl,” Hank admits.

-

Max Mayfield has tolerated a lot of shitty behaviour in her lifetime.

The list of people that hurt her, and the people closest to her, was quite long, especially for a twenty-something year old. But her upbringing had a lot more downs than ups, and because of that, for the longest time, Max considered herself to be the most unlucky person on the planet. So she blamed the people around her for it, because how else is a kid supposed to judge universal injustice?

To this day, she remembers every single individual that has wronged her in any way, along with the associated place, and most importantly, the how. Max was never entirely sure what she’d do with that information, but she stored it at the back of her mind regardless — hence her thick skin and inability to tolerate any sort of bullshit. 

Which is why it sucks ten times more when it is the people close to her doing the hurting, with no rhyme nor reason.

If Eddie asked, that’s why she left you her address. If Eddie asked, that’s why she wanted to talk to you. He did the hurting. Then he spewed bullshit as to why he ended things with you. Max didn’t believe any of it. Anyone with half a brain wouldn’t believe it.

“I think she’s the love of my life,” Eddie announced one day, out of the blue. 

He called Max every Tuesday, when it hit four in the afternoon for him. Usually, the two of them talked about Max’s adventures in New York. How she’s doing with her studies, what she’s been up to with her friends (old and new), and if Sinclair has been driving her crazy, which he usually is. The odd time, Eddie would drop in some details about his whirlwind of a life, though he never talked about dating.

That is, until her older brother met you.

Then he wouldn’t fucking shut up.

Max liked this side of Eddie. A truly happy Eddie. And the redhead knows, better than anyone, the rockstar hasn’t been truly happy in all the years he’s been in a set presence in her life.

So to say she was surprised when the news broke, NO MORE SWEETHEART FOR EDDIE MUNSON, would be a vast understatement.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Max questioned her brother.

“Nothing,” Eddie answered plainly, as if it was the simplest thing in the world, “turns out she wasn’t anything special.”

“Eddie,” Max breathed, “you’re acting like a prick.”

She heard a sigh on the other line. Defeated. A little annoyed. Maybe even… sad?

“Whatever,” he brushed the comment off. “Listen, Red, I really don’t wanna talk about this, ‘cause if I did, I would’ve told you it ended myself.”

“That’s another problem I have—”

“Let’s not, okay?” Eddie snapped. “I really don’t wanna deal with shit from you, on top of everyone else, okay? We were never a real item, so it’s not a big deal.”

Max dropped it then and she swore she’d never bring it up again, but then, she bumped into you. She imagined meeting you many times over. The girl that made her brother happy. She wanted to know that girl. She wanted to thank her.

When it all went to hell, Max thought she’d never get the chance. Especially since, seemingly, you seemed okay with the downfall of your relationship with Eddie, spotted out on dates all over New York City. For a brief moment, Max let herself hate you. Clearly, you weren’t upset, which means, clearly, you didn’t care about Eddie nearly as much as he would have believed.

But then she saw you.

Max noticed how your face twitched with recognition the second your eyes locked together, how your hands shook slightly when Max looked behind her shoulder, the brief disappointment when it wasn’t Eddie who came around the corner, and how you tried to plaster on a pristine smile when you introduced yourself.

And now that she saw you, one thing was clear. Eddie hurt your feelings. He may have even broken your heart. That sort of behaviour, Max couldn’t stand for.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” you say with a delicate smile.

Your moves are apprehensive when Max further pushes her apartment door open, allowing you into her home. She leads you down the long hallway and offers up the couch for you to sit, while she steps towards the kitchen cabinets to grab a couple of wine glasses. 

In the time that Max opens up a bottle of Cabernet, you allow yourself to glance around the space. The furniture is all mismatched, definitely vintage, probably thrifted. There’s a fireplace, but you think it must be disconnected since instead it houses cream-coloured candles, all of different burn degrees. Otherwise, the decor is minimal, and it makes you think of Eddie and the empty walls of his Los Angeles mansion.

Though there is one prime feature. A framed Corroded Coffin poster, signed by all the members.

A faint smile circles your lips as you trail the details of the image. Though you haven’t been a fan before, having dated Eddie for a couple of months, you now knew the poster was from their first headline tour. The poor scribbles on an old photo, something that could one day be worth thousands. You’re sure though, that to Max, the value of this is priceless.

So your nerves bubble to the surface. Your leg starts to bounce, thumb back at your lips as you stare at the poster in front of you. The question of why exactly Max asked you to meet has been circling your mind ever since Hank handed you the address. It’s only intensified now that you are here. Now that you are looking at an A3 print of the brunette rockstar in his sister’s apartment. The guy that, despite your best efforts, you still cared for quite deeply.

“Here you go,” Max hails you back to reality by handing you a glass of wine. “It’s nothing fancy though, I eh, don’t usually host celebrities,” she tries to joke.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say and take the drink out of her grasp. “I-I actually prefer the cheaper stuff. Keeps me rich,” you try to joke.

Max seems to like your efforts ‘cause she huffs out a laugh while making herself comfortable on the armchair to your right.

“If only my idiotic brother carried the same principles as you,” she says. And just like that, the air is tense again. Your attempt at a joke is turned into an uncomfortable reminder of what the two of you have in common, and the reason for why you’re here tonight.

There’s a brief moment of slightly awkward silence. Then Max sighs softly.

“You’re probably wondering why I asked you to come.”

“The thought did cross my mind, yes.”

Max smiles, it’s small, yet genuine. 

“Look, Eddie has never been one for chatting about feelings. That’s one of the things we actually have in common, which is probably why we’ve always gotten along so well.” She pauses.

“Full transparency, I don’t know what went down between the two of you. All I know is one day, he’s telling me how he’s crazy about you, and the next, I’m reading in the tabloids how it’s over and Eddie’s not willing to give up any reasons why.”

Your face falls momentarily. Something Max picks up on instantly.

“You thought I knew more.”

“That obvious, huh?” You smirk.

“Just a little.”

There’s another moment of silence.

“I’ll be the first to say that Eddie can be a bit of a dickhead sometimes. Especially recently, when the money started rolling in and apparently no one in Hollywood understands setting boundaries, his ego has grown for sure. But I also know what he’s been through. Hawkins wasn’t the kindest to him.”

“Why are you telling me this?” It comes out as a whisper.

“He hurt you,” she’s blunt.

You don’t mean to, but you scoff. “No offence to you, or your brother, but I’m sure I wasn’t the first person he’s hurt, and I certainly won’t be the last, so do you sit down with all his ex-flings?”

Max sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing down momentarily, as she drops her gaze to the wine glass in her grasp. For a moment, you think you came off too bitchy and a little dismissive, after all, she hasn’t made her intentions known yet. Your instinct is to apologise, but then she clears her throat and looks back up at you.

“You’re the only one he’s ever talked about.”

-

“Do you wanna hurt him back?” — Max's question dings in your ears like the alarm bells you should have heard when she first asked it. 

Not now. Not the next night, after you had already agreed to her plan. After the plan was already in motion, you were simply just waiting for the other person to arrive.

Waiting for Steve Harrington.

This was all honestly a little too crazy, but again, you thought so a little too late. You should have been second guessing the idea the second Max presented it to you, like a pretty little gift, wrapped in a big bow known to most as ‘revenge’. Though last night, two bottles of wine in, you would have agreed to anything the redhead said. You did agree to everything ‘cause you realised that she just needed someone to vent her own feelings to, same as you.

She said Eddie didn’t want to talk about it, and she wanted to be sympathetic towards his feelings, but seeing you reminded her, he wasn’t the only person involved in this situation. She needed to talk to you. And honestly, you were glad for the opportunity, hence why you showed up at the scribbled address. Since all you got from your close circle was judgement, it couldn’t hurt to spend time with someone who’d refrain from commenting on how foolish you were.

As the night progressed, so did the topic of conversation.

The two of you had moved on from small talk relating to the person you both knew, and to the real reason Max asked you to come over: “Do you wanna hurt him back?”.

“I-I…” Clearly, the redhead caught you off guard, “Well, I-I haven’t really—”

“If you tell me you haven’t thought about it over the last few months, then I will say you’re full of shit, because no girl of your status gets her heartbroken so publicly, only to let the other person scot free.”

She moved from the armchair and sat back down next to you, then continued, “And I’m not saying this is about your career. It’s about principle. Taking away the fact that Eddie’s my brother, he’s an entitled rockstar who thinks other people’s feelings aren’t as important! Which personally, is just so baffling considering what he went through with Chrissy—”

“Who’s Chrissy?”

Max didn’t really answer your question, though the look in her eyes gave some of it away. Chrissy was, at one point in time, someone very important to Eddie. The name slipped out, you weren’t supposed to know it, that much was definitely clear. And you were smart enough to deduct that Max wasn’t going to tell you much else about this mystery girl, but maybe, whatever she had planned, would allow you to learn it from someone else. Maybe even Eddie himself.

“Okay,” you agreed, “What do you have in mind?”

That’s how you found yourself at Minetta Tavern, fifteen minutes early than agreed with Max ‘cause you knew you’d need a glass of wine before Steve arrived. There was a pit in your stomach. This whole situation was honestly so twisted, even for your standards. But you kept repeating to yourself how it was too late to back out now. Too late to call off this whole thing since the paparazzi you asked  Holly to arrange were already lurking outside.

Steve shows up about ten minutes before the agreed time.

The hostess walks him over to your table and you immediately notice how nervous he seems. He still offers you a charming smile and bends slightly to your level, greeting you with a half-hug. When he sits across from you, he’s quick to order a Jameson on ice, and only when the waiter is out of sight, Steve looks at you.

“Even if this is a fake date, I do have to say, you look really beautiful tonight.”

A timid smile circles your lips at the unexpected compliment. “Thank you, Steve. You look rather handsome too.”

“Nah,” he brushes you off with a smirk, “Not to be overly forward, but I’m all sweaty after a whole day’s work. Wanted to change shirts. Ended up running late this morning, so I didn’t take a second one with me. Then I tried to bribe one of my colleagues to give me his spare shirt, so he told me he’d bet me for it with a game of pool, which I clearly lost. It was a whole thing.” Steve dramatises, the smirk ever present. 

“Bet you’re regretting calling me handsome now, huh?”

“Not at all,” you reply honestly, “Actually, surprisingly, quite the opposite.”

He raises a brow. “Oh yeah?”

And you nod. “Not to be overly forward,” you repeat his earlier sentiment, “But I’ve never been on a date with someone that had a real job.”

Steve laughs. “I just told you I played a game of pool at work to win a clean shirt. That’s a real job to you?”

It’s rather effortless how he makes you laugh too.

“Well, I’m assuming that didn’t take the whole day, so for at least six hours today, you worked, no?”

Still smiling, he bops his head in agreement. “You got me there.”

Celebrating your mini victory, you take a sip of your wine. 

“So, what do you do, Steve?” You ask after the waiter brings over his drink and takes your food orders.

“Wall Street,” he answers plainly.

“Shit,” you reply with a grin, “You’re so right. That’s not a real job.”

When Steve laughs again, you forget why you’re both really here. When he laughs again, the slight shake of his head causing his hair to bounce in compliment, you forget the circumstances surrounding your date. As the night continued, with every spoken word, every little joke and giggle, you end up forgetting a lot of things actually.

You forget to ask Steve why he agreed to do this with you. Forget to ask about Eddie and what their friendship meant to him, since he’s here, acting out a revenge plot. Most importantly, you forget to ask about Chrissy, who she was, and what she really meant to the rockstar.

This fake date with Steve turned into one of the best dates of your young-adult life.

Apparently, you two had a lot in common, more than you could have ever imagined. You both came from families that always lived above the norm, which in itself was a challenge only people from similar backgrounds could understand. Steve had said how the weight of the world was always on his shoulders whenever he was around his parents, and that’s how you felt with your Nana. Nothing was ever good enough, yet you kept trying to impress them regardless. He shared the privilege you’ve always felt, so you bonded. Without ever meaning to.

It wasn’t until after dinner, which Steve paid for, by the way, you remembered the circumstances that brought you here together. He seemed to understand the apprehensive look in your eyes ‘cause he was quick to offer to leave first, before you, and not with you — just in case you had second thoughts — but you just shook your head, Max’s question humming in your ears once again: “Do you wanna hurt him back?”.

“He really hurt me, Steve.”

The brunette nods. “Let’s go then.”

The next morning, Page Six features a spread about you on a date with “a mystery brunette”. In the picture, Steve’s got his arm around you, hugging you close, as the two of you push through the paparazzi to get into his vintage car.

When Steve calls your apartment a few days later, you ask him if he regrets being put on blast like that.

“No,” he answers quickly, “Real or not, I had a really good night with you. Which honestly made me think about all the possible reasons Munson might’ve had to do what he did.”

“What did you come up with?”

“That he’s a fucking idiot. You’re incredible.”

You damn well know he can picture the smile you’re sporting right now as you wrap the cord around your wrist, like a little school girl talking to her crush. If your Nana saw, she’d tell you to snap out of it. Although, unlike Eddie, Steve was exactly the type of guy she’d want you to end up with.

Intelligent, charming, kind — and those were just the qualities you learned in a single night. The more you thought about your not-so-fake date, the more you found yourself wanting to learn even more about the handsome brunette.

There were just a couple of other questions you needed to get out of the way before you asked Steve out on a real date. Things you should’ve asked the first time around, instead of getting caught up in the moment.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“If Eddie’s your friend, why did you agree to Max’s plan?”

There’s a brief moment of silence. Albeit, very  brief.

“I guess the same reason Red even put this in motion in the first place.”

“Chrissy?”

You can hear him sigh into the receiver, but you don’t get to actually hear him confirm it, or ask any of the follow ups you should have actually asked him during your date, because there’s a knock on your door. Then again, only louder, more intense.

“Steve, I gotta call you back,” you say, attention now focused on whoever it was that’s on the other side of your front door and the eagerness behind their knocks.

“Sure thing, darling. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, someone’s just at my door. I’ll call you in a couple minutes, okay?”

“Okay,” Steve agrees, “Speak in a few.” 

The next thing you hear are three beeps, so you hurry to put the phone back before approaching your front door. You don’t really think to check who it might be through the peephole, since there’s only a limited number of people that would get past your doorman with no prior notice. That was a mistake.

On the other side of your apartment door, drenched from the September rain, stood none other than Corroded Coffin frontman himself, Mr Eddie Munson.

Your mouth parts slightly in shock as Eddie slides his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, meeting your wide gaze. He tries to smile, though the corners of his lips don’t really move that far upward.

And you’re not sure how long the two of you stand there, just looking at one another. It’s only when one of your neighbours comes out of their apartment, into the shared corridor, that you snap out of whatever spell you had found yourself under.

The panic sets in. 

He’s actually here. Eddie is standing in front of you. Now, Mrs McAllister has seen him, and she’s got a big mouth, yapping to the ladies at bingo about all your activities, gossip that somehow always travels back to your Nana — the last person you needed on your case, again.

So without really thinking, you slam the door shut.

Right in Eddie’s face.

thank you for reading! really appreciate the endless & continuous support!

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& tagging some cool ppl that expressed interest: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @astheni-a , @bebe07011 , @aysheashea , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie

[vibratingskull]

Hello!!! I love love love your yandere thrawn!!! Could I please request yandere thrawn x rut/heat?

Maybe as the rut approaches he gets more possessive and obsessive, watching reader more carefully and preparing his chambers for reader. Reader might notice the extra tension in thrawn but just assumes he's worried about his campaign or something. Then when the rut actually hits he's like in the middle of a meeting and kicks everyone out to take reader.

Thank you for all your writing!!!

OMG Yandere Thrawn in heat/ rut ????? So sexy! That's a brilliant idea I may steal it for my main yandere... Who knows... Stay tuned 😇

Thrawn x F!reader

Tags: Yandere behavior (duh), possessive, jealousy, Thrawn's first time, cunni, fingering, P in V, creampie, breeding kink

Everything is perfect.

Thrawn planned absolutely everything for you, you’re the only one missing now.

He takes a look around in his large suite on his ISD. He measures his chances. He truly does. He knows meeting his one and only is something that only happens to the most lucky, so many people live and die without ever meeting their true other half. So for him to have the chance of meeting you, he considers himself extremely lucky. And he harbors the hope you do too!

And soon he intends to honor you like you deserve to be.

He ordered a lot of new pillows everywhere to create nests for you to lay down and relax.

He will lay you down in all of them and take you tenderly all night long.

He added a lot of new surfaces in his quarters, if you're freaky enough he will gladly take you on them too. Anything to amuse you.

He is quite excited and a bit nervous actually. This is his first rut with a partner. Back at the Ascendancy nobody caught his eyes so he took pills to suppress his rut all his life to keep them at bay. He got through life watching couples flourishing and getting at it passionately when the rut came. To him it always was more of an annoyance and disturbance in his work. Try to keep a crew focused when their instincts are screaming at them to take their partners to bed! A real challenge. Thanks to the Warrior, the Syndicure passed a law forcing each warrior and officers to take suppressants, now calm and peace came back on the bridge and he could speak to level headed adults and not toddlers in uniforms consistently on the verge of implosion. Honestly, this aspect of the Chiss species was such a burden! What a shame to be diminished to a rabid animal when you are civilized like them! For those reasons Thrawn always hated that part of himself, what a relief he felt when Thrass offered him a pill to calm down his ardors when he developed his firsts pulsions. The sensation of freshness and renewed control he felt when he gulped down that little pill for the first time… Truly a blessing!

If there is something Thrawn absolutely despises, it’s the loss of control.

But then, he met you.

Perfect you.

Adorable you.

How could he have predicted you? So far away from his people and civilisations, in an empire of aliens, how could he have predicted to meet his perfect match? The first time he saw you, he knew. He knew the Warrior created you for him and him only. You were standing at attention, your back straight and head high with a little smile to greet him for his promotion to Grand Admiral. Did he find you beautiful? No idea. You just immediately caught his eyes, like a firefly is tempted by light he was drawn to you by a force beyond his understanding.

He felt like he was struck by lightning when he first heard your chuckle at one of his dry humored responses to a fool of an officer, and that was the sweetest sound he ever heard in his life! And you are so intelligent… He have the greatest pleasure inviting you to his office to strategize all night long

If only your stupid boyfriend wasn’t in the way. 

That jackass had no style nor class, why were you in a relationship with him in the first place? You must have felt pity for him, with such a great heart of yours, you must have felt bad for that poor fool and decided to offer him a chance once in his miserable life.

And that idiot did not take the measure of his chance! Taking you for granted, speaking loudly over you, pressing you against his sweaty body all day long, clearly undeserving of you��

But you still looked at him with heart eyes, drinking his words like gospel.

How?

Why?

Thrawn could not tolerate it, he felt love for the very first time he was not going to let you fly away from him that easily, especially for a loser such as him. So he started to take actions, giving you conflicting agendas to make it hard for the both of you to see each other, making one work when the other was sleeping. When he had no choice but to have you both on the bridge at the same time Thrawn made sure to humiliate him as much as possible with a stern expression and impossible questions, slowly but surely your view of your man was tarnished, slowly but surely you started to get disinterested and distanced yourself from him.

His plan was working to perfection.

And during that time, Thrawn worked to place himself in your life as a friend, a comforting presence and a shoulder to put your head on. He let you see parts of him he never revealed to anybody, not even Ar’alani nor Eli, you spend so many sleepless nights chatting on your comlinks and he truly felt your relationship growing more intimate and purposeful. He called you during your leave, innocently asking about your days and your daily routine. He once learned your favorite drinks and at your next shift they miraculously appeared on the menu of the Mess hall. Your little bedroom suddenly changed to a larger one for “suspicion of vermin infestation”, one suspiciously closer to Thrawn quarters and away from the other dumbass. You had full access to Thrawn office for you to take care of the Ysalamiry together, you who love them so much! He keeped showering you with privileges and special moments with him.

Everything was falling into place, as he wished.

Until that idiot had the absolute nerve to ask your hand in marriage on the bridge, in front of everyone else!

A last desperate act to keep you with him, in a sense Thrawn understands him, he would never want to get separated from you, under any circumstances either. But outside the obvious infringement to any rule in place it is a direct attack on his honor and he was ready to send him to a cell for that alone and have him tortured. In secrecy, obviously.

You had the right mind to ask for time, but you didn’t immediately say no either. To Thrawn's horror. With you impressed by the sudden boldness of the fool, all his hard work could go to waste.

So he had to intervene drastically and kill him off. It was quite simple, a land mission, a quick shot at the back of the head, dumping the body in the nearest river after plucking out all his teeth and cutting all his fingers and flying far away, abandoning the corpse to the unchained elements.

Oh you were devastated, in tears for days. Days that you spent in Thrawn’s arms, hugging you tightly to appease your pain and relieve you. He cradled you day and night, slowly infiltrating your daily life, making his presence an evidence.

He knows the kind of cold and imposing aura he gives off so he took care to be as tender and soft as possible, giving you glimpses of his loving, intimate side.

And you were hooked!

Soon after you shared your first kiss. He was caressing your cheek, his gaze traveling to your soft, plump lips and leaned forward to capture them. You froze, surprised, but responded quickly, circling his neck with your arms and opening your mouth for his tongue.

He was in heaven!

Finally!

He had you for himself! To avoid any miscommunications he immediately asked you to go official, you accepted and sealed your vows with another languorous kiss.

Which brings us to today.

He never forced himself on you, going at your pace for your comfort. But that doesn’t mean he can’t initiate actions, so he will seduce you out of your mind and take you to bed this week and he will taste the pleasure of the rut for the first time of his life. He will indulge so much! Keeping you in bed for a full week, breeding you over and over, authorizing you to leave the nests only for the most basic necessities and grabs you back in the sheets immediately.

He will get you addicted to him, to his cock. Absolutely ruining any other man for you. He will make sure you become pregnant, locking you with him forever. You are not a cruel woman to deny your child a father, no matter how horrible he might be.

But he doesn’t have to be horrible to you…

If you stay with him, he will be the most gentle, tender lover you ever met, satisfying you beyond measure.

If you ever look at another person, however…

You will taste his wrath and learn your mistake in pain. But he does it for you both, so you cannot be mad at him, he knows what’s truly good for you and that it is him!

Solely him.

You need no one else in your life. Not even our family, if they ever pose a threat to your happy couple he will cut them off entirely, or kill them altogether if they insist. You do not need them anyway, you will forget them rapidly when he will be plaguing our mind 24/7. Just as you do to him.

He absent-mindedly caresses a pillow of one of the nests. Younger him never knew why Chiss bedrooms were so large and had so many pillows in them. 

For the nests obviously.

Apparently it is quite common for couples to prefer a nest of pillows, plaids and plushies to their bed. And for the first time in his life he understands why.

Oh he cannot wait… 

Embracing you in those soft, fluffy nests and taking you languorously until you cry out of love and exhaustion while he keeps thrusting deep into you. Your cute face in tears and forced into the plushies while you squirt violently around his cock.

He caresses his lips with a deviant smile, oh he’s going to enjoy it so much… Having you completely cock drunk, a babbling mess while he towers over you in full control. Oh that is going to be so sweet…

And you will become pregnant! Let’s not forget that delicious fact.

He cannot wait to see you round with his child, maybe his twins or triplets. He will give you so many children! Chiss have very large families, by blood or association, he is no exception, his instincts scream at him to procreate as much as possible with you.

He wants to meet his children now, having them running around you both all day long… He will find you the perfect house or little cottage to raise them, they will have a swing and a dog and so, so many siblings to play with!

He knows you’re not on the same page considering your relationship. You are such a free spirit, always fluttering around to chances, to opportunities… He actually has the greatest difficulties keeping you chained down to him, you always seem to find a way to escape with a laugh and sparkling eyes, forcing him to sprint after you in hope to catch you. You're teasing him so much! You are his little birdie he desperately wants to cage. And as stimulating as it is for him it is also incredibly frustrating, why won’t you just settle with him? Why make things difficult? He has nothing against using chains and gags but he would like you to be happy at his side, not just a captive. But once pregnant you will do the only respectable thing to do and marry him, because you are so responsible!

Then you will be with him forever.

He also prepared for that, he modified his diet, intensified his training routine and started to take fertility boosters everyday. One morning you stayed to sleep in his suite, you asked him what was that small orange pill he took. He lied to you, pretending it was only vitamins. You would have been so scared, and he doesn’t want to scare you, only to back you into a corner.

You are two different species after all, he cannot let those things to the hazard.

One week ago when he felt the first symptoms of the heat he gulped down twice the dosage, just to be sure…

He used to hate those symptoms, those heat waves and sore muscles, but today he welcomes them with so much pleasure. He also felt growing territorial and possessive. He always tolerated you having friends, he’s not a complete monster, but those last few days? They realized how terrifying he could be with a single glance in their direction. They didn’t even have to speak with you, only standing in your vicinity was enough to send him into a boiling rage! Especially the males! He would appear from out of nowhere, his aura murderous and shooting them with his red gaze and dump them with even more chores and duties, especially on the other side of the Chimaera, far away from you, his darling.

One had the nerve to hug you and Thrawn pushed you into the shower and scrubbed your naked body for a full hour despite your complaints to get rid of his disgusting scent. He couldn’t help it, it was making him gag, smelling another male on you. He laid all night long on you, crushing you in place with his weight, until he could smell only his own musk on you when the morning came.

You didn’t see that friend from then on…

His alarm blares off, signaling him it is time to head to the board rooms where he organized a session with all his superior officers to strategize the next campaign. You’ll be here obviously. He will gorges himself of your scent and presence, boosting him for the rest of the day. 

No, for the whole month!

He walks peacefully towards the board room, back straight and head high when he starts to feel a heat wave approaching. Oh well, he will take a shower later.

He turns a corner and smiles.

You are here, waiting for him, your datapad in hand. You never wait for him at his suite, too visible and he likes his privacy, so you took the habits to wait for him mid-way. 

He doesn’t slow down, letting you adjust to his pace, and your two hands graze for a split second before going back to their places.

“Good morning, Grand Admiral.” You greet with a little smile.

He takes pleasure at seeing your face lightning up when he appears in a room, how your eyes sparkle and your smile grows larger.

“Good morning, Captain.”

“You seem tense. Are you alright?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

Oh sweet adorable you, you know him so well… And you always take care of him, noticing in one glare that something changed in him, not that he tried to hide it from you. You can see those parts of him, you are allowed.

And those heatwaves are not really comfortable…

“Am I?” He asks with a lopsided grin, “Quite the contrary, I feel full of energy.”

“Really? Good.” You smile gently at him. “We will need it for today!”

You think about the strategies, he thinks about the bed.

“I am sure it will be a productive day.” He slowly nods, approvingly.

“With you it is always a productive day.” You chuckle.

Your scent comes to brush his nose and he deeply inhales, inviting it deep into his lungs. It sets his nerves on fire, electrifying him to his core.

That feels so good…

You reach the board room where everyone else is waiting and take your place. Thrawn starts the holomap and the session can start.

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

Everything was going so well.

He was fully focused, mind set on his enemies and strategies, listening to his subordinates when it struck him.

Like a lightning.

All his muscles suddenly violently contracted, chasing all the air out of his lungs. His usually so well organized mind completely froze like stunted. It was so violent he almost lost his balance and collapsed. But he held on,standing firm on his feet.

And now there is only one thing he cares about.

You.

“Everyone… Out.” He says so coldly a shudder spreads through the assistance.

“Sir? Did we do-” One starts to speak to understand this sudden shift of behavior.

“Out!” He shouts.

Everyone scurries outside, it’s the very first time they ever heard him raise his voice and they don’t intend to hear more!

“Captain (F/n), you stay.” He orders harshly.

He feels his cock gorging itself with blood, getting warmer and constricted in his tight pants.

So this is how it truly feels…

The sudden craving, hunger for flesh, that urge commending all his senses and priorities. A desire so powerful his only thought is to breed you immediately, right here and there, like an animal.

You remain still, worried. You look at him, hugging your datapad against your plump breast, well hidden under that stupid green uniform. He wants to tear it all apart, destroying it completely to discover your sweet naked body.

His hard gaze is on those incompetents that still didn’t evacuate the room, he turns towards the young ensigns absolutely terrified, pressing themself at the door to leave as quickly as possible.  

If they don’t go away he will take you in front of them without any shame! 

They must have felt his black gaze on them because they suddenly manage to pass through the door and disappear away from him. 

The door shuts close.

And he now turns towards you.

You are now completely alone with a seemingly pissed off Grand Admiral Thrawn.

You are terrified beyond measure. He never raised his voice. Ever. He looks at you with a dark glare, like he could eat you up in one bite.

You gulp.

He starts to walk towards you, skirting the holomap, dark eyes fixed on you, frowning terribly. You press your datapad closer against you in a soothing manner. Did you do something? Said something? Angered him in some way?

“Thrawn? Is something wrong?” You ask with tremors in the voice.

You hope talking to him would snap him out of him but he keeps walking towards you like a carnivore having cornered a prey.

“Thrawn…” You call again.

In complete silence he seizes your datapad out of your grasp and just breaks it in half like it’s nothing before tossing it aside. You gasp, shocked.

“Thrawn, if I did-”

You have no time to finish your sentence, his large hand comes to grasp your throat and pushes you against the wall where he captures your lips in a demanding kiss.

What the fuck is going on?!

Everything was well, he listened patiently to his colleagues with a little smile and suddenly his eyes widened and he ordered everyone out. And now he is pressing you against the wall to kiss you.

Where is your sweet, tender boyfriend?

He presses his hot large body against yours, more petite in comparison. He squeezes your throat as he forces you to open your lips to let his tongue enter your mouth. He groans in the kiss like a pissed off tiger as his tongue meets and hugs yours.

You feel his erection against your pelvis, he brushes your groins together, leaving no doubt in your mind about what’s going to happen next. You moan pitifully, feeling a mixture of terror and excitement, feeling your southern muscles contract in response.

He suddenly grabs the back of your neck and pushes you unceremoniously against the console of the holomap, you’re bent over the metallic structure with your respiration cutted. You have no time to register what he just did, he is behind you, towering over your figure and gripping the fabric of your pants and violently pulling them. You hear the sound of teared off fabric.

“Thrawn!” You shout indignant. “What the hell?!”

He pulls on your sweet panties.

He childishly hoped you would not be wearing any undergarments, like a naughty girl, but opening you like a present is also nice. 

You try to rise up but are immediately pushed back down with his hand on the back of your neck.

“Do. Not. Move.” He orders with a chilling tone inviting zero resistance.

So you remain bent over, immobile, feeling the cold air hitting your exposed pussy. You gulp, throat dry, devoured by anxiety.

And anticipation…

You suddenly feel his wet tongue parting your folds. You grip the metal for dear life as he starts eating you out voraciously, like a starved animal. 

“Oh my god, Thrawn…” You gasp, out of your mind.

He locates your clit and starts teasing it with sweet laps, circling it, gliding across it. He moans loudly to excite you further and you start feeling your slick leaking out of your pussy to roll on your thighs. He takes your clit in his mouth and sucks on it avidly, like a lollipop, making it roll between his lips and titillating it with the tip of his warm tongue.

Where did he learned to eat out women so well?

He, himself, doesn’t know. He just acts on instincts right now and they are telling him to devour your sweet pussy first.

You press your hand on your mouth and immediately feel him bite the tender flesh of your thigh.

“I forbid you to remain silent.”

And to prove his point he takes a big, sloppy lap with the flat of his tongue from your clit to your perineum. You can’t help but moan in response, your legs starting to tremble under his care.

“You are getting so wet.Good.” He praises you but the tone is dark and… dangerous.

He parts your pussylips with two fingers and probs your entrance with his tongue, drinking your slick loudly.

“Ah! Thrawn…” You choke on your words.

“What is it darling? No man ever honored you this way? Such a shame.” He tuts.

He grabs your butt with his two hands and penetrates you with his long, warm tongue. You can feel it waves inside you, grazing your sweet spot so deliciously, he circles it and glides across it with the tip of his tongue.

Gosh, he wants to take you right now but you could never take his size without any preparation. And he has always been curious about your pussy’s taste, and despite his urges it seemed like a good choice to him. His instincts are always right.

And your sweet gasps go straight to his dick, he is getting so painfully hard just hearing and tasting you. This is so addictive. He suddenly understands all those couples he used to look at with disdain.

This is just so… Right!

He is not eating you out gently, but like a starved animal who just found a juicy piece of meat. He growls and purrs, satisfied by your tremors and quivers under his touch. 

This is how you should be with him all the time, a good girl for him to play all day long, a little bit fearful and dripping wet.

He expertly opens his trouser to free his erection and starts pumping it in rhythm with your sweet mewls. You are like a little bird who sang for him the sweetest melodies. 

He have no idea if you ever squirted in your life but this is now his mission, you are not leaving his embrace until you squirted for him, no matter how many tries it takes, how many hours he will have to fuck you, you’re going to do it. For him. For his pleasure.

He slurps down your essence loudly, satisfied with your taste. This is quite savory, you’re about to become his new favorite dish! 

“How does it feel?” He teases between sips, “Do you like it?”

You, on your end, just cannot respond. The only sounds passing your lips right now are desperate moans as he eats you out conscientiously. Your brain is freezed in a fight or flight response. 

“My little bird does not wish to sing to me?” He growls.

And he slaps your pussy with his palm. You shake with a groan of pain and pleasure.

“Ah! It… I’ve never done that…” You confess, panting.

Good.

Your pussy will only know his lips and no one else. Only him will make you feel this good.

“Vocalize your pleasure louder. I want the whole Chimaera to know who’s making you feel this good.”

He laughs at himself internally. Him who gave you specific hours to meet him, who refused to visit you to your cabin to not be seen, who took care of hiding your scandalous affair to anyone else is ready to throw everything through the window if it means everyone knows you belong to him and him only right now!

The rut is truly something else.

“Thrawn!” You call for him when he resumes tonguefucking you.

But he can’t help it, you just taste so good. He will eat you out every morning from now on, who cares if someone saw you come and go out of his quarters now?

Not him, not anymore.

You come really hard, so much you feel your pussy spurting something in his face with great force. Whatever it was, his purr gets way deeper. He reached his goal and you delivered splendidly! He licks his lips clean of your essence, feeling it beading from his chin.

That was even better than he anticipated, the little jump his heart did when you squirted in his mouth like if he was a young child being offered candy!

You try to catch your breath, still bent over the console, shaken by that orgasm. When was the last time you orgasmed like that? Have you ever?

“Oh thank the Maker it’s over…” you pant.

“Over?” You hear a dark chuckle freezing you down your core, “Oh sweet thing. This is only the beginning.”  

You feel his erection pressed against your spasming pussy, coating his shaft with your release. He feels… Large. Really large. Not that you are really surprised given his size, of course his penis would be as large as him. What you cannot determine however is his length.

You bite your lips in anticipation.

You feel his tip probing your entrance, before feeling him pushing it inside.

Oh dear gods! He is so massive! Your inner muscles work to welcome his size inside of you but you feel him splitting you up in two.

Your mouth opens in a perfect O trying to accommodate his size, that’s a real challenge! 

“Your little pussy struggles to take me, and I am not halfway through.” He sadistically notes.

He’s not halfway through?!

No way! How are you…? How could you…?

“Stop struggling.” He orders, “I feel you clenching all around my cock, if you do not want me ramming into you immediately it is best you relax.”

“I’m-I’m trying!” You complain.

He keeps pushing inside, filling you more and more, reaching depths you didn’t even know you had. 

“Relax, Cha’cah. Breath.” He talks you through it with a softer tone like he is pitying you. “We are almost there.”

You feel his ridges brushing your inner walls, you feel his cocks having some sort of scales made of somewhat hard flesh but they caress your soft flesh so deliciously…  You gasp, breathless when you feel his tip brushing your cervix deep inside you.

Such a curious sensation, none of your partners managed to do it without folding both of your bodies in weird angles, but Thrawn reaches it without any difficulties.

Finally… You feel his hips brushing your butt, he is fully in. And that’s a feat!

“You squeeze me so much, my darling.” He says in a gasp, “You were tailor made for my cock.”

“I feel so stuffed!” You manage to let out while you try to take back your breath.

Having his complete length inside you just chased all the air out of your lungs and your little pussy stretched to its maximum. If you were on your back and not your stomach you would see a bulge, that’s for sure.

“Well, thank you, my darling.” He darkly chuckles, “And this is all for you. Only for you. Now relax.”

And without leaving you anytime to adjust to his size he starts thrusting inside you. Deep, hard thrusts that punch air out of our lungs each time and threaten to knock you over the console. You feel his hips hitting your pussy harshly like a bull, assaulting your poor body.

“Oh Maker! Thrawn, slow down! Please!” You choke on your own words.

He rocks you so hard you almost bite your tongue at each back and forth movement. He fucks you roughly, without regards for your comfort on that sturdy console. You feel your poor pussy trying to take him ramming his whole length into you, a good thing he made you come before that, your release helps him slip inside easily but doesn’t help his massive size problem.

“I will not slow down.” He annonce, deaf to your cries, “You can take it, I know it. You can take anything I give.”

He grips your arms and holds them firmly with one hand on your back while the other holds your hip, preventing you from falling forward. 

He fucks you as voraciously as he ate you out, gluttonously and harshly. He keeps his merciless pace as you try desperately to conserve some dignity as you feel him fucking your brain out. You feel your pleasure growing, not softly and nicely but like a furious wave growing like a tsunami under his brutal rhythm. So much that a bit of drool starts dripping out of your mouth.

His tip hits your cervix relentlessly and his ridges scratch the inside of your pussy savagely, scratching every sweet spot at once and making you see hyperspace behind your eyelids.

“Blast!” You shout.

“What foul language, my darling. Should I also fuck your mouth to teach you manners?”

His hand holding your hip sneaks under your stomach to reach your nervous clit, pulsating with your heartbeat. He starts rolling it between his fingers while he rams into you like an animal. He pounds into you like it is his last day alive and you can’t do anything but take it, like a toy for him to play with. You can do so little you are barely more than a fuckdoll for him.

He is torn on his end.

On one hand this is so pleasurable, so fantastic, it sends him in such spirals of pleasure and heightens all his senses in such fashion! He gorges himself on your scent, of your pathetic moans of the wet sounds of your little pussy…It drives him so crazy, he wonders if he could ever slip out of you.

He would surely die if he ever did that.

And on the other end he hoped to take you nicely and languorously during hours on end for days, helping you reach new heights of pleasure and taking care of you romantically, not take you like a monster. Him who used to treat you so tenderly in each and every fashion like the fragile porcelain doll you are…

But this rut…

This is something so strong, so unstoppable and unfightable.

It took him by complete surprise, robbing him of his control.

But for once in his life he decides that is not so bad…

He gasps as he feels your small pussy clenching around his large girth. You strangle him so, so well, just the right size for him to enter and squeeze him deliciously. You truly are made for him and his cock.

And absolutely no one else!

He hopes you would be able to forgive him for fucking you in such a way! You deserve to be worshiped and idolized like a goddess all night long, and he had the firm attention to pamper and venerate you like his personal Empress, like the slave to your grandeur that he is… He will make it up to you! He will spend the next hours adoring you for you to pardon him for his transgression!

You feel your pussy clenching more and more under the growing waves spreading in your veins, setting fire to each nerve ending until you scream Thrawn’s name out loud.

It was completely unprompted, it escaped you while you tried to gasp for air but your orgasm crashed on you so suddenly it took you by surprise. The tsunami reached the shore and is devastating everything in its wake. 

“Keep screaming, cheo Cha’cah. I want everyone to know who is fucking you this good.”

You convulsing around him pushes him beyond pleasure and he comes inside you without your consent after three more deep thrusts, he buries himself deep, spurting his seed in your most secret place. He feels your entire body tensing then slump, like all your strength escaped your organism with a “oof.”

He gently caresses the cheeks of your butt with his large warm hands as he catches his breath, still deep inside. He slips his disheveled strands of hair back on his head and opens his jacket to get rid of his now sweaty shirt.

This is a really nice physical exercise! Far more enjoyable than those repetitive and boring reps. It could become his new routine! He always has been more than serious with his training, but he would look up to this new exercise each day, he would partake with so much enthusiasm!

You surely would not object! He would give you so much pleasure each and every day…

He slips out of you and makes you roll on your back. You are still catching your breath while he has already recovered. Humans are no match for Chiss stamina after all. He growls as he sees his semen oozing out of you. 

You are already wasting it!

He collects it with his fingers and pushes it back inside, penetrating your sex with his slender digits. He sees you shaking with this simple touch, you are still so sensitive after all… He cleans you with his fingers, fingering it back inside your greedy womb that tries to retain him inside. He grins lightly. Your body doesn’t seem satisfied with two orgasms and seems to already call for him and his skillful talents again. 

You, on the other hand, seem exhausted.

He enters you again, localizing your G-spot easily and starts brushing it eagerly. You mewl tiredly in response but your body answer is undeniably positive, your pussy stretches enthusiastically, dripping wet, and your legs spasm each time he scratches your spot with the pad of his fingers. 

“Thrawn…” You try to call, your hand lazily raising to grab his arm and stop him.

But you have no energy left and let your hand fall back to your side. He keeps fingering you, enjoying the ungodly wet noises of your pussy, stuffed with his white cum.

One won’t be enough.

You need to do it again. Over and over again, until your cute tummy is completely bloated with his semen. 

Then, and only then, he will consider he did a sufficient job.

He pushes a third finger inside and you whimper, like sweet music, he scissors you thoroughly admiring your entrance gaping around his fingers. He can’t believe such a little pussy could take him so well, he actually thought you would not and break under him. But you did. And quite well, considering it.

You gave him so much pleasure already, choking his shaft so lusciously, hugging his form so perfectly he felt like he could mold your insides for his specific shape, ensuring that any potential rival is terribly disappointing to you.

But there will be no potential rival. In any shape or form.

“Thrawn…” You pitifully call again, your chest rising up and down as you breathe.

“Is there a problem, cheo Cha’cah? Are you in pain?” He investigates, just to be sure.

He is not a monster after all.

“No… No but-” You throw your head back with pleasure as he accelerates his ministrations. “Ah!”

You’re in no pain, that’s all he wanted to know.

“Let it happen, my darling. There is no use fighting it, let me take care of everything.” He charms you with his enthralling deep, melodious voice.

He circles and crosses your G-spot, rubbing it roughly while adding pressure with a hand on your venus mound, earning sobs and moans from your part. He adds pressure on your clit with his thumb, gliding across it and flicking it, feeling you dripping off his hand as he hooks you from inside. He accelerates his care, stretching your pussy good as you tremble under his hand, knuckles deep, curling and spreading them, making his fingers twirl to caress any inner surfaces of your pussy. He then resumes fingering you mercilessly until you cry your eyes out, big tears rolling down as your pussy spasms around his soaked digits.

You come again, shuddering dramatically. While you try to catch your breath again, Thrawn lowers himself to the level of your pussy to make sure all of his potent semen was inside, where it should be. He traces your pussylips with his fingers, utterly fascinated by that jewel of nature.

He kisses your slit with reverence and raises back on his feet.

He looms over you and opens your green jacket and pulls your shirt over your bra. He takes out his hidden vibroblade and cuts it open, revealing your breast to his eyes. He feels his own eyes rounding up as he discovers them in plain sight, your nipples standing up to attention as the cold bites them.

Your boobs are just to his taste, just how he likes them.

He grabs them in his large hand and kneads them good, rolling your nipples between his fingers. He leans forward and takes one in his mouth, sucking on it.

Soon when he will do that again he will taste your milk. He will drink from your tits when they get heavy with milk. He cannot wait…

He kisses it and takes the other one in his mouth, licking across the soft skin, peppered it with soft kisses as you sobs, cheeks soaked, your hand coming to caress his hair.

He stands back straight, slicking his hair back, letting sweat roll on his gorgeous body, his deep blue skin glistening with all the flickering signals of the board room. His red eyes shine hungrily in the low light of the room, fixated on your form under him.

He pumps his cock one or two times, hardening already again and pushes it back inside, your essence acting up as lube. He watches fascinated how his penis disappears inside your body, a creamy O at his base. 

The bulge is consequent and he can’t help a dark snicker. You are going to be gorgeous, all round with his child…

He resumes his hard thrusting, gripping your hips harshly, digging his nails in your soft flesh to keep you in place. He watches your boobs bobbing up and down, hypnotized. You whimper, tears rolling down your cheeks as all of this is way too much for you. You’re oversensitive and he keeps the pleasure rolling longer and farther, teasing your nerves until you broke down completely.

But he wants more.

He broke down your sentiments but he wants to break down your mind, utterly destroying it. He wants you dumb and cockdrunk, stuffed with his seed like the good girl he knows you are. So he keeps burying his girth deep in you, brushing your G-spot with the edges of his ridges 

He needs to give you more loads or you’ll never get pregnant! 

What if the pills he took were not enough? He worries at the back of his mind. What if nothing was enough and you’ll never get pregnant? What if your two species are ultimately incompatible?

He pushes these thoughts back.

Of course he’s going to get you pregnant. He is the Grand Admiral Thrawn, a warrior, a Chiss. Nothing is impossible to him.

He would not allow any other results.

He rocks his hips into yours, reveling in the pleasure you are giving him, he undulates his body with delight meeting your dripping sex, the sounds of flesh hitting flesh echoing in the large room. He chases both of your releases while you fully tremble underneath him, he seizes your thighs with his large hands and spreads them wide open, throwing your legs on his shoulders, allowing him to deepen his thrusts.

Oh that is just so good…

He hoped his first time would have been romantic and sweet. He still has a heart full of love and devotion after all, he thought that after a date at a museum he would have treated you to a nice dinner before carrying you to the bed and honor you all night long. But instead he is ramming into you like a beast, in the middle of his boardroom on his ship for all his crew to hear, trying to break you in a million pieces under him.

You truly never know what life has in store for you.

In all honesty, he didn’t know it would go so well. He is not young anymore and he feared entering you for the first time would have him come undone right here and there, and it almost happened! He had to collect all his will to not explode inside of you just by entering you. His honor would have never recovered if he came before satisfying his darling first!

What kind of man would he be then? One that only chases his own pleasure like a self centered jerk? He likes to think of himself as above that.

Granted, you are in this situation because he couldn’t help but chase his own release, but that is completely beside the point!

He circles his hips to vary the sensations and you bite into your lips in response.

“What did I say about silencing yourself?” He scolds you, growling.

He seizes your jaw, pressing your cheeks like a fish and leans forward dangerously, shooting you with his feverish gaze. You look so silly like that.

“This is the last time I warn you, understood?” He demands with a dark tone.

You can only nod with your silly expression, eyes round with surprise and submission. That looks good on you. He leans further to lick your cheek as he rocks his hips realizing you soiled it with your drool smeared all over your jaw. Did you lose all control, He wonders snickering?

He captures your lips for a messy kiss, tongue dancing and drool exchanged. You whine, having your air robbed out of you and he accentuates his thrusts to have you reach higher notes. He lays fully on you, taking you in his arms to hug you tight, his thrusts are still mean and hard, hurting your pelvis with his raw strength. 

“Focus on kissing me, sweet thing.” He orders, between little kisses all over your jaw.

He feels you drooling on yourself as your lips meet again, that amuses him tremendously. He moans in the kisses, burying himself to the hilt as your pussy swallows him whole like it should.

His heart is singing. Is it what true bliss feels like? Being one with your other half…

He licks your lips as you roll your eyes inside your skull, too lost in the pleasure he gives you. He keeps bullying his length into you, embracing you with his long arms, he sneaks his hand under your shirt on your back and buries his nose in the crook of your neck to inhale your musk. His heart flutters, pumping his blood at 100 miles per hour. It has been so long since he felt excitement like that, such pure joy, having you close like that, sharing such an intimate and vulnerable moment with you. He brushes the tip of his nose on your neck, purring deeply while you keep whimpering in his ears, arms circled around his large form and legs circled around his waist, keeping him deep buried in your puffy pussy.

You long stopped trying to formulate sentences, your brain is too fried for you to speak proper Basic, instead just letting broken mewls escape you. But that is as good for him, that is a testimony of the overwhelming pleasure he is giving you and he revels in it with pride.

Your inner walls are all gorged with blood, fluffy and soft for his cock, your pussy is clenching almost painfully around him and your clit is pulsating furiously, begging for attention. You snake one hand between your two bodies to caress it, prompting Thrawn to look down at what you were doing.

“Sorry, my darling. You invaded all of my mind and I lost track of things.”He apologizes.

One of his large hands follows yours and starts to tease your bundle of nerves instead of your more petite hand.

What kind of idiot is he? How dare he lose himself so much to stop paying attention to your needs? He chastises himself.

He thoroughly rolls and presses your clit between his fingers as he undulates his hips with the energy of a beast. He resumes kissing you, feeling so light, like all his pressure and problems just vanished in your presence. He hugs your tongue with his, dancing with it, robbing you of your breath.

You feel the waves of pleasure spreading through your veins and your pussy, making it convulsing ferociously and you come for the fourth time, screaming Thrawn name.

Once again, your orgasm pushes his and he comes deep inside your womb for a second time. 

This time you notice.

“You came inside?” You ask breathlessly, visibly worried, “I’m not on the pill!” You warn.

Of course he knows it already.

“Oh my.” He responds with a lopsided grin, caressing the bulge made by his shaft with his warm hand, “Then we will have no other choice but to take care of a little one.”

Abortion is out of the question. He is a firm defender of this right for women, of course, but for you? With his child? Out of the question. He will not even entertain the idea.

“What? … Are you sure?” You ask dumbfounded, “Is it not-”

“I will take my responsibilities with you and the kid, do not worry about anything.” He puts his forehead against yours, red eyes buried in yours. “I will not disappear  and leave you alone.”

“It’s not what… I wasn’t accusing you of-”

“Everything will be alright. We will be together.” He embraces you tight. “You need not to worry.”

He cradles you gently, hearing your shallow, rapid breaths. He sighs, satisfied.

Well, not completely. Two is still not enough. He starts a back and forth movement again, but this time slow, gentle, loving, languorous…

“You are not tired yet?” You ask incredulously, at the end of your own rope.

“No.” He brushes his nose with yours, “I told you earlier I was full of energy today…”

He holds your cheeks in his hands, forehead against forehead, purring gently and deeply.

This.

This is true bliss. True happiness. You and him, locked together forever. Legacies tied in reputation and now blood.

“What will I do for my career if I get pregnant?” You start to worry.

He fights the urge to sigh, why won’t you drop the subject? Or better yet, why don’t you see it as the absolute marvelous good news for your couple as he does?

“You will not lose anything. I will keep you at my side whatever might happen. Like I said…” He looks into your eyes with the most serious expression you ever saw on his face and… Some underlying hunger and jealousy, “... Do not worry about anything.”

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay, @obbicrystaleo, @germie2037

[mayapapaya33]

I'm mid episode 103 and they just did the ritual to seal Delilah in the Aeorean crystal in Essek and Caleb's apartment. I see you Matt! She's contained "as long as you walk this realm" I see you. When Laudna finally dies permanently Delilah is free I think, or at least it'll be easier for her to get free. Maybe he meant she's just in Laudna's ribcage as long as she walks this realm, but eh... Campaign 7 Delilah's back! As we've seen, containment magic's aren't fool proof. She'll be free eventually, even if it takes decades or centuries. That woman has a drive and work ethic I can only envy, I have never felt that much motivation about anything in my life lol. Sylas is truly a lucky man. (If only they weren't evil, alas).

But wow, good for Laudna, I'm very happy for her not to have to put up with that shit anymore. Now she just needs to go see an actual qualified therapist like that lady who lived in the giant frog, and work on her terrible mental health lol.

[idolatrybarbie]

pairing: marcus pike x alex dozie (fem!OC)

word count & rating: 4.4k | explicit - 18+ only please and thanks

summary: marcus pike is the new congressman for the great state of Vermont. it's time to celebrate.

content tags: angst, takes place in 2022, alcohol, background american politics, smut - vaginal fingering, mentions of cockwarming in a way but it's more like Mormon soaking hey don't look at me like that, penis in vagina sex, painful sex, racism, slutshaming, misogyny (none of these from marcus.)

tags & notes: @atinylittlepain | still feel weird being here i am nawt back do not alert the authorities - gin really loves these two and that is inspiration enough to write and post for them.

It’s a cloudy November day when he wins. No rain, no smog; simply overcast. The weather could almost fool you into thinking that this is any other day. Another Tuesday nearing the end of the year, who cares?

If she lived a different life, maybe that would be the case. Alas, she does not—she lives this one. After a win in the primaries and an election sixteen months in the making, they’ve crossed the finish line. Well, he has. Marcus Pike, the latest (and greatest, though she’s biased) congressman Vermont is lucky to receive.

And who is she exactly? If you asked her, no one. Ask him, though—

“Everyone, please give it up for Miss Alex Dozie!” Marcus booms. His voice carries across the room easily, naturally. Like he’s made for this. He is.

They all follow his word like gospel, the raucous applause almost as loud as the heartbeat in her ears. Alex watches more then feels Marcus take her hand in his own, lacing their fingers together as he lifts their arms in the air. Together in victory. That’s what this is, isn’t it? A victory and this is their celebration party. Surrounded by staffers, donors, volunteers—you name it. A variety platter of New England’s who’s-who all here to celebrate the congressional win of Marcus Pike, a rising star and thought leader in the Democratic party.    

He’s a little too centrist for Alex’s liking, but despite being press secretary for his very political campaign, they never really get around to talking shop. Hard to chat about affordable housing with his tongue down her throat.

Alex sinks back into her body slowly. Marcus lets her go, replacing her warm palm with a glass of champagne. He continues his speech as she flutters through the crowd to the very edge of the room.

“It’s been a long journey. A lot of hard work from everybody in here. I also want to thank…”

Alex tunes it out, gazing blindly across the room. There must be almost 300 people in here. She had never known what that looked like. Does she even know that many people? One hundred living souls, and then triple it. The fact astonishes her. Even more people voted for him and got him here. They believe in Marcus Pike.

Being him right now must be about as close as one gets to playing God.

Marcus starts to wrap up his speech, catching her attention again. He’s searching for her face, bright like a beacon. He breaks into that million-dollar smile of his when sees it.

“I want to thank you,” he says. The words are spoken to a sea of suits, but she knows what he really means. “I truly couldn’t have done this without you. We are going to make a difference here. I can feel it. And for that, I am forever grateful.”

We. That alone makes Alex feel all gooey inside. A small smile fights its way across her lips.

               The crowd breaks into amiable chatter, the party portion of this formal celebration spreading like a virus as more drinks are made and softer pop music spouts out from wherever. Alex has half a mind to meander over to coat check and grab her things. Before she can convince herself, Marcus sidles up beside her near a darkened window.

“By yourself?” he asks.

“As is preferred,” she says.

Marcus hums. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to put up with me.”

“Terrible, truly.” But it’s all smiles; he is all smiles, Alex mirroring him.

They have to keep it cool here, professional. She can read his eyes. You look beautiful. The heavy blink and bashful glance down at her shoes will have to suffice as a thank you. Alex watches as Marcus readjusts his tie, thick fingers grazing the soft fabric. She wishes they were in her mouth instead.

“Great party,” she says, clearing her throat.

“Yeah. Got this press secretary, she planned it all for me.”

“You’ll have to get me her card.”

“Of course,” Marcus says. Light laughs fall from both of them. “You did a great job.”

“It’s alright,” Alex shrugs.

“It’s amazing,” he insists. You’re amazing.

“All previous party planning experience was organizing my senior prom.”

“And it’s still fantastic, look at you.”

“The process was much easier with a congressional Platinum card, trust me,” Alex says. Then she holds up her drink—not the standard fare of J. Lasalle but a Bourbon Ginger from the open bar—and lets it fall in a clink against Marcus’ half-empty flute of champagne. “To money.”

“To success,” he says.

“Yeah, that too.” She lets the prickly pleasantness of ginger root and dark liquor slide across her tongue. It burns going down, but she likes it like that. “So… What are your plans for the rest of the night?”

“I dunno’,” Marcus says, shrugging his shoulders. His voice lowers to a whisper. “I was thinking about breaking in the new office. You?”

“Does breaking it in have anything to do with fucking me in it?”

“It could.”

“I’m pretty amenable to these plans, then,” Alex says.

Marcus offers her his hand again. “Follow me.”

They wait as the tide of partygoers pushes in, making their escape when it falls back, slipping through tall double doors. Marcus leads Alex up a back stairwell, heels clicking against wood. He lets her lead the rest of the way, watching the slink in her step and the sway in her hips. He hates it when she leaves but loves to watch when she walks away—and tonight, he gets the best of both.

Alex stops at the doorway. She waits for him to cross the threshold first; it only feels right. Marcus pulls her in by the elbow, a goofy grin overtaking his face.

“C’mere, gorgeous,” he says.

They connect at the mouth, soft and gentle like Marcus’ hold on her waist. He runs a soothing finger over the material of her dress—smooth white satin that swathes over her hips and neck, leaving her shoulders bare. Vintage Ralph Lauren on loan; Alex couldn’t dream of owning something this expensive with all her lingering Howard loan debt. The dress, along with the pearly cream heels that were once her mother’s, is a drastic change from her outfit at this afternoon’s swearing-in ceremony: a dress with frumpier sleeves, sitting just below the knee in a purple bright enough to rival a red clover. She’d hated it, feeling trapped inside some illusion of a church girl with her hair pressed into long pin curls.

The way Marcus looked at her then, same as now, made it worth it. He thinks the world of her, along with the Sun and the rest of the solar system too. He slides a hand across her chest, a nipple peaking against the fabric. When he squeezes, her cunt drools. Alex slips a hand into his hair, pulling hard enough that Marcus moans into her mouth. They move as a unit, one step at a time until he has her caged against his new desk.

They break only when she looks down, hiking the smooth fabric up to expose the bottom half of her body. Marcus cups her gently over her underwear, feeling dampness against the heel of his palm.

“Couldn’t have done this without you, sweetheart,” he whispers against her lips.

“You could have,” she says between sweet kisses to each cheek.

“I didn’t want to.”

Alex smirks. “Lucky you, then.”

She likes to tease, but the self-satisfaction on her face falls when he presses his hand against her harder. The pressure against her clit makes her ache, moving her hips up to meet him. She starts to grind against his hand. Marcus watches the wet patch on the gusset between her legs grow as Alex gets herself off. Lucky him indeed.

“What do you need, baby?” he asks.

“Touch me…please.”

A small gasp falls from her lips when he peels her panties down, Alex lifting her hips to aid in the effort. They wrap around her ankles, caught by the backs of her heels. Marcus touches her bare skin, already wet and sticky when he runs two fingers against her.

“More,” she says.

"Hmm, I don’t know,” Marcus says. “I think you like it like this.”

“Marcus Jordan Pike…put your fingers inside me or get the fuck out of this office.” Her tone is breathy but commanding, drawing his attention from her hips to her eyes.

He doesn’t need to be told twice, slipping a finger through her wetness before sinking it into her cunt. Alex moans, and Marcus moans with her. His starting rhythm is slow and purposeful, searching for that spot that gets her eyes to cross as she bites her tongue to keep quiet. She cants her hips in time with him, meeting every thrust of his middle finger as slick squelches onto the webbing of his hand.

A high whine tears from the back of her throat when Marcus finds what he is looking for. He adds his index inside of her, massaging the spongy spot inside of her with deft attention.

“Fuck, Marcus,” Alex sighs, panting into his neck. She holds him close by the shoulder, arm wrapped around to his neck as she pulls lightly at his ear.

“That feel good?” he asks. All she can do is nod. “My baby feels so good, huh? You worked so hard. I’m so proud of you. Let me help you relax.”

Something about being called his baby has her weak in the knees. She likes that, just a little. Alex would never admit it, not in this environment of all-or-nothing stances, not even to him. The feminists of this town and the Internet would eat her alive for admitting even the fantasy of being a kept woman turns her on, just a little. Still, Marcus can tell by the way she clenches tight around him.

“Such a sweet thing…so smart, you know that? Couldn’t do anything without you.”

“Marcus, please. D-don’t stop, just—right there.” She stutters on a breath when he presses his thumb to her clit. Alex’s thighs clench around his hand, trapping the limb so he can only move from the wrist down.

“It’s okay, you’re okay. Feel it, baby. I’ve got you,” Marcus whispers against her ear.

He captures her for another kiss, languid as he speeds up his fingers and the circle of his thumb. She cums with a cut-off cry and a tremble of her hips, pulling him closer and pushing him away with her body as she creams over his fingers. They stay joined a few moments longer; she sits up a little more, smoothing out the collar of his dress shirt.

When Marcus moves his hand, Alex fulfills her wish. She takes him by the wrist and leads his fingers to her mouth. She tastes herself as they pass the wet heat of her tongue, swirling between the two digits for good measure. Marcus groans as he watches, mesmerized.

“You’re killing me here,” he says.

 “We wouldn’t want that, would we?” Alex asks. She reaches for the zipper of his pressed slacks, hard cock waiting for her underneath. “Public servant and all.”

The zipper needles down easily, two buttons on the inside of the linen plucked undone in a moment. She rolls Marcus’ pants down to settle over his ass, revealing to her the pre-cum stained front of his briefs. Seeing the pair of novelty underwear she got for his birthday, Alex laughs. His cock is covered in bald eagles.

“Why is you laughing at me still sexy?” Marcus asks.

Alex draws him in by his tie. “’Cause you’re a perv,” she says.

Marcus scoffs, but there’s no bite in it. “I don’t have a comeback for that.”

She works him out of his underwear, spitting onto his shaft before giving him a stroke. “That’s how you know it’s true.”

Alex sets them into motion, leaning back to signal Marcus. He immediately swipes everything—nameplate, important government documents, a miniature post holding the American flag—off the desk and onto the floor. He runs his tip, slick and swollen, through the mess of her cunt. Teasing her, he presses against her clit like a button, making Alex jolt.

“Just fuck me, dweeb,” she says.

One thing about Marcus is that he takes direction well. He slides into her with ease, both moaning in sync at the fit and feel. Filling her with one thrust of his hips, she makes him stay there for a moment, savouring the sensation. The fullness is enough to make her feel good—sometimes it’s enough to make her cum, like when they sat together in the campaign office, her on his lap as she squeezed her cunt around his thick cock to orgasm.

Then she taps at his hip, pulling at Marcus’ forearm to get him to meet her horizontally. His thrusts start quick and small, grinding against her insides as he never quite leaves her. Idly, she wonders how many times they’ve fucked in an office. The campaign office? They’d made up a bit of an accidental schedule, twice a week on Tuesday and Friday when everyone usually went home before seven. A handful of times in his car, which were always her least favourite no matter how long Marcus ate her out to make up for it.

 Once in her bed. It was late August this year, the air balmy as she and Marcus stepped out of that upscale bar in one of those times between overcast clouds and dripping rain. He’d had a few too many to drive home, and Alex lived just three blocks over. She hadn’t meant to fuck him. It was only the second time, after a quick and easy mistake they’d made on the fold-out table that operated as the volunteer command center; that particular night, there were still Vote4Marcus stickers in her hair when she got in the shower.

But Alex did fuck him, and it was amazing. Probably what spurred her to keep fucking him. Not the money, or the potential power. Just the tender, semi-drunk sex they shared on her double mattress. The only time it ever happened.

She’s trying to calculate how many Tuesdays and Fridays are in eight calendar months when a particularly sharp thrust catches her attention. Alex groans, but not in the sexy way, as Marcus punches his cock into her cervix. It feels good still, in a way, but the pinch of pain is throwing her off.

“H-hold on,” she mutters, so quiet she can barely hear herself. Marcus keeps going, fucking her with a hand at her sternum for leverage.

“You feel good?” he asks.

“No, just—hold on,” Alex repeats. She places a hand over his as Marcus slows to a stop.

“Everything alright?”

Before she can answer, they both feel his phone buzz in his pocket. Marcus pulls away from her, wiping his hands on his pants to check. She sees his mouth screw up in a side pout as he reads whatever message is waiting for him.

“Time to go?” Alex asks.

“I just—this big donor is heading out, the McCaskills? Polly wants me to start greeting people as they leave.”

Another one of many times Alex would love to tell Polly Friedman-Blau where she can put her tight smiles and wandering eyes.

“Of course.” She’s already standing, lifting her leg to pull her underwear back up and over her crotch. They are uncomfortably sticky, but that won’t be a problem for long.

“What do you mean, of course?” Marcus asks behind her.

Alex turns, smoothing out her dress. She’ll have to find a bathroom to properly fix herself up before heading back downstairs.

“I mean, come on. What are you, the lobby boy?” The hurt anger bubbles up from nowhere, shocking her as much as him.

“They donated thousands of dollars, Lex.” She hates that name. He knows she hates it. “We wouldn’t be here without them,” Marcus says.

She makes for the door now, shaking her head. Alex ignores the burn between her thighs. She doesn’t make it to the hall, though. Marcus grabs her arm, pulling her back to him.

“What?”

“Can we just—can we not leave tonight like this?” he asks. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry.” He peppers her face with soft kisses, gentle with his words. “When it’s all said and done, I’ll find you. We can continue this back at my place.”

His place. The place she’s never seen. Something roils hot inside her, small fireworks snaking and sparking between her ribs.

“Okay?” Marcus asks.

“Okay,” Alex agrees.

He fixes his pants and she straightens his tie. Marcus is off again, heading downstairs. Alex lingers in his office for a minute longer, taking it all in. They made it. They are here.

When an appropriate amount of time has passed, she wanders out to find a bathroom, closing the door behind her. A few party drunkards have made it upstairs. Alex smiles politely and ducks out of any potential conversations by moving onto the stairs and heading down. A bathroom presents itself at the foot of the steps, a golden sign that says ‘Ladies’ waiting for her.

The door swings inwards silently. Alex hates to say she’s impressed, what with the horrible screech of her own bathroom’s hinges. A glance in the mirror tells her she doesn’t look too crazy. Taking advantage of the empty presence, she locks herself in the very last stall to take a piss. As she wrangles the wafer-thin toilet paper, she hears the door open again. Not so silent after all.

Two sets of expensive heels—four clicks against the stone floors—echo throughout the room. Alex is about to get up and flush before someone speaks.

“Oh, I don’t know,” one woman says, voice low. “That girl he thanked… I’ve heard some things.”

“She’s not a girl. We’re all women here,” another woman says.

“Could’ve fooled me,” the first one snickers.

Alex keeps her breathing even, still listening. “What’s the word on her?”

“Oh, you know. The usual: she’s sleeping with him.” Well, that’s not inaccurate. Still, it stings to hear coming from— “She’s only in it for the money, you know? Supposedly, she had a thing with her TA back in undergrad.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. But then she set her sights on political office. But she doesn’t want to be the man behind the desk. She just wants to reap all the benefits.”

“Little does she know, all those men have some sweet thing under there to keep ‘em warm.”

“Trust me, I think she does. Bold of her to assume he’d ever make her First Lady.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, Marcus Pike is a name you remember. Alex Dozie? Come on. We’ve already had Barack and Michelle.” The other woman doesn’t say anything to that. “There was something about his fa—”

Alex takes that as the time to strike, pressing the metal button jutting from the wall to get the toilet to flush. In a few seconds, she unlocks the stall door and saunters out to the sink. Silently, she rubs soap between her palms and fingers, sticking her hands beneath the automatic tap to rinse away the suds. The women are exactly as she expected: thin, white, and beautiful. Their dresses look much more expensive, much more modern.

She wonders if they’d say all that if she looked more like them.

Alex waits ‘til the door shuts behind her to let the tears well up. Well, shit. This is supposed to be the night of everything right, and it’s all going terribly wrong. She walks blindly, water blurring Alex’s vision as she keeps her head down and eyes forward. Eventually, she reaches an office on the first floor. Fine wood paneling and frosted glass windows. The office chair is practically calling her name. When she slumps into it, the tension bleeds from her spine. Somehow, the leather seems to have that new car smell to it.

It takes a few minutes to realize that this is her office. She recognizes it from pictures Marcus sent her. Their tiny what-ifs were turning into reality, and this was one of them. If I win, you’re taking this office. It’s the nicest one…besides mine. There were so many of those that Alex began thinking it impossible for them to lose. Like this was fate or something.

Fate; destiny. She was meant to do this. Fuck whatever Malibu Bitch numbers one and two think. Who cares what people know, or think they know? Alex is here, and she knows exactly why. It has nothing to do with the…extra-curricular activities between her and Marcus Pike. It was because she’d worked her ass off; because she deserved it. A tenuous thread of hope, sure, but it was enough to keep her from finding Marcus and quitting on the spot like she wanted to.

Instead, she heads to coat check and gets her purse and jacket. Alex tips the lady with President Andrew Jackson, calling a cab in the lobby. A long, hot shower and a good night’s sleep will make everything better; it always does.

Alex wakes at five o’clock. She does not feel better. Somehow, she feels worse. Whatever slathered over the surface of her skin last night has settled, sinking deep into her bones. It’s not quite anger, or sadness. A churning disquiet has taken up in her gut, leaving no room for breakfast or coffee. A box of things sits on the kitchen counter, waiting for her to take it into the office—her new office. Alex almost forgets it three separate times.

The drive is sure to be the only calm part of her day. Alex savours it, taking the easy route through town. The building is cute, not a monster when it’s not plugged full of people. It’s an eclectic mix of brick and metal on the outside, dated but sleek on the inside between hardwood and glass. Inside is quiet, too, which she enjoys. Still, her stomach stirs with unease. It feels like everyone stares when she walks in.

Alex’s thighs ache, a reminder of what she and Marcus did last night. She bristles at the thought, shame creeping up the back of her neck. Maybe they shouldn’t do that here. This isn’t some rental space in Downtown Burlington. This is an important office.

She puts her box down at her desk, the contents landing with a thud. At the top of her trinket pile sits a framed photo: Alex and Marcus, smiling as she waves at the camera from the hip. She forgets now what they were talking about, one of the earlier Vote For Marcus Pike banners hanging behind them, pinned to a wall. This was a month into Alex working for him. A month of wondering if he still remembered, and figuring out quickly that Marcus didn’t. The first real conversation they’d had where she had no excuse to duck out of the office or wander away. The first real conversation with the man that would change her life.

15 months ago and yet it feels so far away; unreachable. Alex wants to crawl into the picture frame, claw back time to when she knew what she was doing here. The objective was simple. Get Marcus elected. Now? One night and she’s been sent into a tailspin.

When she looks up from the photo, it’s because of all the clapping. When does all the goddamn clapping end and the real work start? Alex was starting to wonder. She moves from her desk to the doorway, catching a glimpse of what the fuss is all about. It’s Marcus, of course. He doesn’t see her; how could he with all the people in the way? He glad-hands and smiles his way through the office. Someone takes a photo—fancy camera, flash on—and Alex blinks. She’s been injected into Clinton-era comic strip, waiting for them to bring out the baby to kiss.

Marcus Pike gets applause for showing up to do his job. Sure, it happens, but when did that become her life? Her reality? Alex does not belong here. Clearly, he doesn’t need her here. He didn’t call last night when she didn’t show.

The campaign trail was then, and this is now. She is of then…Marcus doesn’t need her now.

Thank god for the printer in this office. She types up something quick, waiting for the blocky machine to whirr to life. A quick, six-sentence letter of resignation spits out moments later. Alex takes it, folding it in two. She goes to grab her box of things, Marcus’ eyes staring back at her. She leaves it.

Her heels click and clack against the floor as she makes her exit. Letter clutched in her hand, she doesn’t notice the tiny young woman in front of her until they collide.

“I’m so sorry,” she squeaks first.

“It’s my fault,” Alex says, shaking her head.

“You’re Miss Dozie?” the woman asks. She looks a little scared, a little reverent.

“Unfortunately. Why?”

“I’m supposed to bring you some briefings,” the woman says. Alex notes the badge on her lapel. Office aide. “After I bring Mr. Pike his coffee.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Okay?” Alex asks. The aide nods, brow furrowed in confusion. “Could you do me a favour, though?”

“That’s my job, ma’am.”

“Could you put this on Mar—Mr. Pike’s desk for me? Preferably when he’s away from it,” Alex says.

“Of course, ma’am,” the aide nods. Alex wishes she knew her name.

“Thanks,” she nods. “Good luck up there, hey?”

Alex walks away, through the lobby to the front doors. In less than an hour, the weather has changed from overcast clouds to sputtering rain. Albert Hammond serenades her with guitars, alerting her to a phone call. She almost picks it up, finger automatically reaching to press the ‘answer’ button. Alex thinks twice about it, checking who it is. Marcus, of course.

Frozen on the sidewalk, rain pelts her head as she watches the phone ring. After about a minute, it stops, his name disappearing.

Seems it never rains in Southern California

Seems I’ve often heard that kind of talk before

It never rains in California

But girl, don’t they warn ya’?

It pours, man it pours

[thecoppercompendium]

for the tarot rpg ask game! The Fool, The Empress, The Hierophant, The Chariot, The Hanged Man, The Devil, The Tower, The Star, The Sun

Wow, that's a lot (to be clear I am not complaining)! Thanks for your interest! I've already answered The Chariot and The Star here, so I won't answer them a second time, but the rest are new!

The Fool – What do the earliest stages of work on a game look like for you? OR How did you get into game design?

I'm going to be greedy on this one and answer both parts, because… I want to, to be honest. The earliest stages of design vary quite a lot for me, but typically start with either a mechanic (say, exploding dice), a concept (a game set in an eldritch ocean) or a title (Summit). If I'm very lucky, I occasionally start with all three! From there, my first step is to define a few restrictions for myself, normally 1/2 for mechanics and gameplay and 1/2 for genre/vibes. For instance, with The Curse Lingers (which I'll come to in more detail) I started with the idea of it being based on nuclear waste warnings (vibes), that it would be multiplayer (gameplay), and that I wanted to use Caltrop Core for it (mechanics). These restrictions give me a direction to push the game in, even if I often end up ignoring some or all by the end of the process.

When it comes to how I got into game design… It was D&D 5e. My friends badgered me enough to DM for them that I read the entire PHB cover to cover in a day or so, then proceded to make some (very very bad) homebrew for the very first session I ever ran of any TTRPG. I do not recommend this in the least. While that campaign eventually petered out, my creation of homebrew did not, and in the last year and a half I've drifted further from 5e and began making stuff for other systems, as well as a few TTRPGs of my own.

The Empress — Where do your ideas come from? OR Do you seek out or avoid inspiration while working on an idea?

To be completely honest, I have little to no idea where my ideas come from. I have a colossal list of concepts on my phone, typically titles or bare-bones mechanical possibilities, but I can't pinpoint the source of many of them. Some spring from conversations with my friends, others crop up at 4am, probably as a result of sleep deprivation, still more sneak their way in after seeing some particularly cool art. I wish my inspiration for games was more consistent, but I'm definitely not going to be running out any time soon.

This is getting long, so continued under the cut.

The Hierophant — Who is a fellow game designer you’ve learned a lot from? OR What is a piece of popular wisdom about games you think is nonsense?

I can't nail down one particular game designer I've particularly learned from -- I tend to magpie from any and everything I read, taking inspiration from the mechanics and flavour that most appeal to me. In this vein, we have @rathayibacter for their excellent work on [BXLLET>, @prokopetz for his many many posts on game design, John Harper for Blades in the Dark, Spencer Campbell (Gila RPGs) for RUNE and Caro Asercion for Exquisite Biome and i'm sorry did you say street magic. I'm sure there's more that I've forgotten. I've recently joined @uktabletopindustrynetwork, and am learning a lot from everyone there, too.

The Hanged Man — What other creative pursuits do you have? OR What current trends in game design are you most interested in?

I've written a couple of first drafts for fantasy novels that I will come back to one day. My main creative passion has always been worldbuilding, so that inevitably gets built into my TTRPGs in some way if I can get away with it. I particularly love creating maps of the worlds I create. I've been working on a map for my fantasy world that I run D&D (at the moment at least) in since I started that first campaign, back in late 2019. I've included one small section of it here, a dimensional overlap between that world and the Far Realms known as The Wandering Isles, created using assets from Map Effects (it goes without saying you can use it for personal use if you like, but not for commercial use). I've made a bunch of others for towns and cities, but it's the overall world map that's taking the time -- the world keeps expanding on me.

The Devil — What motifs or mechanics do you just keep coming back to? OR What is a game you’ve enjoyed playing in the last year?

As it happens, I was thinking about this last night before reading back through these questions. Turns out every single one of my games so far has you fighting against time in some way: Summit drains your cards the more time it takes you to climb, I HAVE SOMEWHERE TO BE is literally about trying not to be late, the Curse Lingers has a curse mechanic that mutates you the longer you spend within a temple, and both of my current in-progress games have a clock that counts down in some way. I'm beginning to suspect this says something about me…

The Tower — Talk about about a game you tried to make that crashed and burned.

The very first game I tried to make after becoming disillusioned with D&D (during the OGL debarcle, as it happens, what a surprise) was tentatively named Cursed Fools. It was far too ambitious for a first game, used a deck of playing cards and had an interlocking system of Curse and Boon cards, as well as complex spellcasting, classes and a TONNE of elaborate worldbuilding. I do still like a lot of the mechanics I came up with for it, but odds are the game will never see the light of day in its original form. Since then I've continued to battle scope creep (my nemesis) but I've learned to begin with a smaller scale concept to mitigate.

The Sun — Talk about a game you’ve made that you’re proud of.

This is the bit where I talk about The Curse Lingers (TCL), the most insane thing I've decided to do (so far at least). As I mentioned earlier, TCL is a Caltrop Core game about nuclear waste warnings. In it, players take on the roles of the Keepers of the Temples, many years after an unspecified apocalypse. These Temples are cursed by a Relic, with each curse having specific triggers. Keepers delve into Temples to cleanse and claim these Relics, entering fragments of the Old World, our world, in order to do so.

I'm incredibly proud of the mechanics I developed to bring the feel to the game I wanted, using a variation on clocks (which I know from Blades in the Dark) as well as a health mechanic called Mutation, where a Keeper grows more powerful the closer they come to death. I'm proud of how the Temples and even the 4 included Keeper classes are all based on actual nuclear waste warning suggestions. What I'm most proud of, however, is how long it took me to make. I decided to create a TTRPG for Free RPG Day this year, and this became TCL. What I neglected to mention was that I decided this a week before Free RPG Day. I made the entire 28-page game, including formatting, within that week. It was one of the most exhausting and rewarding things I have ever done. I hope to not do something that insane again,

Thanks a tonne for the ask, and thanks to @che-bur-ashka / @wildwoodsgames for stealing/creating the ask game!

[sable-hart]

( brandy norwood, 49, cis woman, she/her ) — Look who it is! If you take a look at our database, you’ll find that SABLE HART is a PROFESSOR that works in SECTOR 4. That must be why they’re HARD WORKING and DISTANT. If you ask me, they remind me of a lingering gaze when you’ve long since stopped looking, guilt drowned in the tannins of red wine, and distant embers glowing bravely in the dark. They are affiliated with THE COUNCIL.

basic information:

character name: Sable Hart

nickname (s): No thank you (Sabe, but ex-husband rights only)

face claim: Brandy Norwood

mutation status: Human

birthday: September 4th

sexuality: Bisexual

moral alignment: Lawful neutral

occupation: Professor of architectural conservation + council representative (sector 4)

work sector: 4

affiliation: the council

3 positive traits: Hard working, appreciative, diplomatic

3 negative traits: Distant, self-serving, insecure

biography (optional):

tw: general religious insanity and cult behaviour, death

As far as is possible in a post-apocalyptic society, Sable was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. Her father was a well-respected architect who made significant contributions towards the building of Sol City, and she was a spoiled child.

She did not, however, want to get anywhere on the sheer dumb luck of being born under a lucky star. Everything Sable earned in life, she worked for fair and square -- nobody stayed at the library later than her, nobody put more effort into their work.

During her studies, she met Richard. He was from a part of town her parents wouldn't approve of, but he was sweet and doting and inevitably they fell in love. Sable's confidence often struggled as Richard was a sex worker, but he made her feel good enough that she overlooked her insecurities.

Don't ask me about timelines from this point on because... hard. But the following are all true:

They got married; their happiness was marred by Richard developing a mutation that sent him violent and feral. Even after the cure, he retained some of that feral nature.

Sable was elected to the council after campaigning hard. Her main priorities were equal worker rights across all sectors, preserving the architecture to keep Sol City safe but also historical, and safeguarding dangerous mutants.

After some time they had a daughter, Delilah, who inherited some of Richard's mutant genetics -- think partial cat girl.

This was extremely unfortunate from Sable's perspective; she cares so much about her reputation. It was already embarrassing for her being married to a sex worker, and then a mutant child? She couldn't have that! So Delilah has hid her mutation her whole life. Even now that she is approx. 20 years old, Delilah partakes in weekly manicure sessions with mum to file her claws down, downplays her enhanced senses, and never reveals her feet (not from worry of perverts, but due to her adorable little jelly toe beans).

You'd think she could have had it all, but her insecurity got the best of her. Richard's job made her feel secondary sometimes; she got jealous, and she worried people would judge if they found out. She always kept her public life extremely private for this reason. That, combined with the stress of having a mutant child, caused her to tear the family apart by divorcing Richard. Like a fool.

Now she is riddled with guilt. She's lonely, and she keeps people at arm's length. Miraculously, she maintains a good relationship with Delilah due to being the more stable parent. But she has little in the way of friends. Lot of evenings at home alone with a glass of wine, you know how it is. Deep, deep down she is a sweetheart who desperately wants to connect with people, but she's too career focused and insecure to really let anyone in.

questionnaire:

how do they feel about living in sol city? have they always lived there or did they travel from another settlement?

Sable has always lived in Sol City. It's certainly better than the alternative! She likes the city, is very passionate about it's architecture.

do they trust the council’s leadership? why or why not?

Ish. She's on the council, so she trusts it to a certain extent as she's in on the inner workings! But also. She's a little judgy and thinks some of her peers are numpties and she does not really trust them.

if they chose their sector and profession, why did they make that choice? if they didn’t, why not? were they happy with their assignment or not?

She chose it. She always wanted to go into something scholarly, and she followed in her father's footsteps being passionate about architecture. Sable veered towards the conservation of architecture because, well, there's no point building beautiful buildings when they're at risk of being levelled at any moment! Ask her about the weathering of stone over centuries, she'd love to bore you.

what’s one object that they always keep on their person?

One of Delilah's baby teeth. It's a teeny little fang that Sable keeps in a tiny pouch, partly as a general devotional for her daughter, but also to remind herself of her own failings. As a teenager, Delilah tried to file her fangs away -- Sable found her before she really injured herself, but agreed to take Delilah to a dentist to have them safely, cosmetically filed down into 'normal, human' teeth. Richard was furious about this. Sable just wanted their daughter to be happy, but Delilah wouldn't have tried to file her teeth in the first place if Sable didn't compel her to hide her mutation. So now, every time Sable looks at this little fang, she reminds herself of what is really important in life.

(She does a terrible job of that, because Delilah still masquerades as a human and Sable does nothing to discourage this)

[mitchipedia]

“It seems like there are two acceptable settings for female politicians: nurturing motherly matron or total bitch.”

My friend Meadhbh Hamrick sends a follow-up in email to my post comparing Kamala Harris to the fictional politiian Chrisjen Avasarala from “The Expanse,” a science fiction series set centuries in the future.

Avasarala is a beautiful Indian woman in her 60s, elegantly dressed in traditional styles from that country. Played by Shohreh Aghdashloo, Avasarala is intelligent, fierce, well-educated, honorable, honest, doesn’t suffer fools the least little bit, and swears like a longshoreman.

My friend Meadhbh Hamrick writes:

… women are often (always?) held to a double standard in politics. It seems like there are two acceptable settings for female politicians: nurturing motherly matron or total bitch. Men on the other hand can certainly be “nurturing dad/grand-dad” (Lloyd Benson or Joe Biden on a good day) or asshole (Ron DeSantis or Matt Gaetz), but they also have a third setting: just a guy doing politics.

….

I’ve been a Harris fan for a couple decades. In the late 90s I was randomly in a position to hear her talk to a gaggle of law students. She’s sharp. Some people in California don’t like her because she was so close to Willie Brown and… I get that. But there are a lot worse things you can say about modern politicians. Some people discounted her candidacy in the past because as California AG, she did her job and managed an organization which prosecuted people accused of violating the law. She also took heat for trying to move a capital murder case to life in prison. I’m actually okay with that and when the pundits talk about it, they keep saying it’s a negative.

And yes, she seems to be throwing down an Avasarala vibe, but I’ve been lucky enough to see her talk where she wasn’t campaigning and she did a good job with “option 3: just a person doing a job.”

[miodiodavinci]

omg i get so excited hearing about dnd!!!! how many campaigns have you been in if u mind answering?

i don't mind at all ! ! ! ! i enjoy talking about dnd ! ! ! ! our group got together in 2020 has run a total of (counts on fingers) 6 campaigns and 5 one shots, with our average campaign length being around 20 to 30 sessions. each person's taken a shot at DM'ing thus far, but the forever DM and i have both run about four of those each w

also, outside of one or two one shots, it's all been exclusively homebrew ! ! ! which is fun because we've all gotten to create our own regions and design overarching lore that connects each campaign to the other ! ! ! (surprisingly, hannus barbarous is usually the connecting factor. we did not plan this but that's just how it is now KJSFLKJH)

and because i love talking about dnd so much i'm taking this opportunity to dump a whole lot of summary of each campaign/one shot in chronological order under the cut w

ON A SCALE of ONE to TWENTY .. campaign

After being shut off from the world for over a hundred years, the region of Celosia finally opens its doors, sending out an open letter to all would-be adventurers asking for help. Our party just so happened to be the fools who decided to answer (and who got lucky enough to not get eaten by wolves on the way there), and have been tasked with taking down the shadowy Emerald Division that has seemingly come to power. They'll get to it as soon as they visit the dump (it's on the way).

Our DM's first homebrew campaign and the result of all of us being stuck inside and realizing we finally had time to play together w. This was the origin of both Hannus Barbarous as a running gag (along the lines of "this is JUST like Thomas and Jeremiah") and the name Scott as a throwaway bit, and also the origin of "The Coolest Emerald Division" title w

Characters

Roachcock the Tiefling Barbarian (played by me) .. bastard at heart, just wants to split heads, get coin, and buy a boat

Babey Möd the Halfling-Tabaxi Cleric (played by @anonprotagging) .. here to eat gravy and spread the good word of Lyra

The Storm the Water Genasi Barbarian .. he's super famous dude just trust me i heard he once fought like thirty turkeys

In'hala the Tiefling Paladin of Pan .. looking for her lost moms and also stealing this guy's boots hahaaa sick

Opus Whitfield the Human Wild Magic Sorcerer .. trying to use this opportunity to set up a new storefront for his family's gem cutting business, is actually using this opportunity to get bullied

note: i don't know if the other players use tumblr so for now they'll just be identified as "Xs player" from here on out w

GRANNY'S COUNTRY APPLE PIE .. one shot

An aging wizard wishes to taste the sweet delight of Granny's Country Apple Pie™ one last time (despite the bakery closing decades ago) and thus tasks our heroes with scoping out the place and seeing if they can find a recipe. Somewhere along the way, things got weird and it turns out Granny was just an immortal 65 year old who was taking a vacation in the outer planes with her wife but she's back now :)

Pre-built one shot that very quickly went off the rails, as to be expected for my very first go at being a DM after being a player for less than 4 months. The first appearance of Hannus as an actual character and not just a running bit.

Characters

Hannus Barbarous the Half-Orc playwright and Bard (played by @anonprotagging) .. he's taking a break from his prestigious play writing career to see the sights and reconnect with the little piece of him that was shattered when his troupe broke apart (but not too much of a break not to sign every autograph he can eyyy)

Sir the Eternal Flame (and sorcerer i guess) (played by Opus's player) .. still frustrated at being locked in human form, this giant immortal moth is off doing busy work until his curse wears off (which apparently includes bakery heists???)

Tehn the Sun Elf Ranger (played by the Celosia campaign DM) .. with their giant bumblebee Spoobin and frankly obscene lack of dietary standards at their side, there's no meal that they can't tackle

THE OSSIFIED GARDENS .. mini campaign

Taking shelter from the rain in an unearthly structure, the gang is snatched away from the physical realm and into a crab bucket-like hotel for the fae. With their most prized possessions taken from them as an entry fee, the gang has to endure arduous tasks to receive the stamps of each of the five Managers in order to receive audience with the minor god who runs the establishment. Whether or not she'll be willing to give their possessions back, however...

My first solo campaign as a DM!! Heavily inspired by Spirited Away and mostly an excuse to put old game dev content to use (including a literal circus of NPCs), but ended up serving as an important event in the Hannus Barbarous lore.

Characters

Hannus Barbarous the Half-Orc playwright and Bard (played by @anonprotagging) .. on the road with Tehn to visit a trinket faire in the next town over, about to experience beginning of a long and scalding beef with a petty minor god

Tehn the Sun Elf Ranger (played by the Celosia campaign DM) .. Hannus and Tehn are best friends now—they're having soft tacos later! :)

Piers the Minotaur Cleric (played by Opus's player) .. he's just along for the ride—maybe there will be cool books! :oooo

Tess the Halfling Rogue (played by In'hala's player) .. laying low until the folks in charge of her latest warrant lose track of her (and by laying low i mean just stealing at waist height instead of top shelves)

ROLL to PHOTOBOMB .. campaign

A seemingly normal winter festival goes astray when our heroes poor fools accidentally soul-bond to an extraplanar device meant to be a birthday present for the renowned sculptor hosting the ball (spoilers: it's a camera). They have four months to take it north to Cobalt City, get the re-calibration redone, and get it back in time for her wife to give it to her for their anniversary. The only problem is, the mountain pass is closed and the only other way there is a several hundred mile road trip by wagon...

Time to take some photos in front of some kitschy roadside attractions, I guess.

Opus's player's first time DM'ing for our group (though they'd DM'd before, and frankly—their experience shows). This campaign was home to some of our most beloved NPCs like Cassidy the subterranean super organism, Barry the extraplanar knife slime, and Sir the Eternal Flame Moth (he got that curse figured out finally!)

Characters

Fafnir of the Boreal North, the human knight Mimic Berserker (played by me) .. they just wanted to leave their dungeon to find a better, damper place to sit and eat and somehow accidentally took part in the funniest case of mistaken identity this side of Alcione

Ranger Rain Rainer the human Ranger (and literal park ranger, played by @anonprotagging) .. originally here to supervise the environmental impacts of the ball on the local landscape, now soul-bound to an extraplanar camera and havin' a good ol' time hangin' with the boys :) y'want some soy sauce with that? i bought a gallon back in brass junction

Kit the Elven Ranger (played by Tehn's player) .. legitimately so traumatized he wraps back around to being the most normal person in this group—just don't mention Celestine Grove

Babu the Hobgoblin Artificer (played by the Storm's player) .. having been separated from his parents and raised by Kobolds, Babu, his steel defender Babu, and his clockwork creation Little Babu are on a long journey to reunite with them in Grand Arbor .. please do not look at him he's sensitive

THE GREAT COCKATRICE RACE .. one shot

It's that time of year—the Great Cockatrice Race is upon us!! But just as our party is soaking in the sights and staking out the perfect spot to watch, they witness a young tiefling have his cockatrice's racing gear shredded by a local gang. Desperate to win so he can help pay to treat his father's worsening eyesight (they're cartographers by trade), he asks the party for help, and they quickly oblige.

Another one shot run by me, based loosely on a one-page campaign document. Not much to say about this one beyond the fact that everyone was ready to kill for Noodles the bantam cockatrice.

Characters

Actias Saturnid the Aasimar Paladin (played by @anonprotagging) .. on a quest to popularize his deity's chosen form of entertainment—tinker vision (TV for short)

Squish the Changeling Bard (played by Tehn's player) .. here to have fun and maybe also look for his friend that went missing have you seen her please tell me i miss her ;_____;

Kai the ??? Swashbuckling Rogue (played by Opus's player) .. it's a big festival, and that means plenty of eyes and plenty of cash! not a half bad time to try negotiating some new patrons for her artist friends

TROUBLE at PORT MANDRET .. one shot

What was originally supposed to be the 58th annual showcase of Umbergate University's horticultural collection is turned sour as an incensed former professor unleashes a powerful awakening spell on the entire town. With only a few hours before the plants release spores that will spread the spell to the entire world, our party has to act fast and cooperate with a local mycologist who seems to know just the fix to this predicament.

Another one shot from me, this time entirely homebrewed! This is also the origin of Scott as a character and not just a throwaway bit, and very much the source of his dynamic with Hannie. They found him tangled up in a bunch of kudzu in a coffee shop and he sent them on a long fetch quest to help him make a cup of coffee using stolen coffee beans.

Characters

Hannus Barbarous the Half-Orc playwright and bard (you know his player by now w) .. you know, he was just trying to lay low after the whole "committing arson" thing, but now he has a gay little mushroom twink to look after and that's (????)

Tehn the Sun Elf Ranger (played by you know who w).. also laying low after helping Hannus commit arson, but mostly here to eat a bunch of plants when no one's looking

Hank the Aarakocra Barbarian (played by Opus's player) .. he's a goose who only says "HANK" and i love that so much about him

Quinn the literal, unawakened, plain old animal tiger and Rogue (played by the Storm's player) .. the reason Hannus and Tehn committed arson after discovering she was being kept in squalid conditions by a wealthy family .. i cannot stress enough that she is a literal, un-enchanted tiger

THE ENIGMA of DAHL CREEK .. campaign

Their boat having sank in a storm, the party washes up on a seemingly once populous island now drowning under webs of unidentifiable blue-green vines and the eerily human-like shapes it creates. Working to unravel the mystery of how the entire town disappeared one August day, they find the past and present blurring together in a strange and haunting way.

The Celosia campaign DM's next big campaign, and frankly the one that haunts me most to this day. I cannot put into words how fucking good this campaign was. Legitimately gave me chills and occupies a region of my brain that cannot be vacated.

Characters

Hannus Barbarous (you know him) .. just trying to recover from the fae thing and the tiger incident and then the Port Mandret fiasco and really doesn't need this right now (but deal he will)

Biscott Cortinarius the human mycologist and Necromancer (played by me) .. putting a little distance between himself and the university due to the ""legal ramifications of interviewing university property without familial consent,"" but mostly sticking with Hannus because he's a bard and... well... bards aren't exactly beefy are they ;)

The Destitution of Mires the Lizardfolk Circle of Spores Druid (played by the Storm's Player) .. to this day i still don't know what their deal was, only that they sensed and so they came, and they left just as easily

Theo the ??? Circle of Dreams Druid (played by Opus's player) .. wanted to get out there and see the world, managed to sneak onto the one and Only boat that shipwrecked that day, now paying for it dearly

TIDECLEFT ISLES .. campaign

When the great Captain Wicke died, he arranged in his will that his treasure was to be given to the pirates of Tidecleft—so long as they could find it. Having arranged a massive, death-defying posthumous treasure hunt, several teams (including our heroes) must now compete to locate Wicke's treasure if they want to claim it all for themselves. What the late captain has in store for them, however, may call the worth of the treasure into question.

The Storm's player's first time DM'ing for our group, but not his first time DM'ing by far (read: he was Tehn's player's forever DM long before he came to our group). This was a grand old romp around a bunch of islands and sea caves that culminated in a frankly off-the-walls batshit final battle.

Characters

Acanthus of the Western Isles, the Mano (shark man) Scholar (played by me) .. a doctor and academic seeking to pay off a massive debt he incurred thanks to the Silver Lampreys and their web of loan sharks .. he doesn't care for jokes... or laughing, or puns, or metaphorical language or

Lemon the Warforged Circle of Stars Druid (played by @anonprotagging) .. realized she's accrued like twenty years in paid time off from working as a docent in an observatory, now taking her first vacation with her best friend Owen Gnome :) (he's a garden gnome she found outside and decided to keep in her pocket) (may or may not be venomous)

Bellamy the ??? ??? (played by Opus's player) .. ever grateful to the squid trawlers that took him in, he's competing in this hunt to earn enough to turn their venture into a franchise .. he is shockingly normal despite the whole "may not be from this plane" thing

Rayin the Tiefling Storm Sorcerer (played by Tehn's player) .. having received that sweet sweet "got hit by a magical explosion on campus" money and gotten magical powers out of it, Rayin is ditching academia to do COOL things like throw lightning bolts and meow at people

these character descriptors are getting long sorry

MIETTE SIMULATOR .. one shot

Somehow, our band of unfortunate souls has wandered into a town caught in a frenzy, raving for the execution of a seemingly normal tiefling man for an unspeakable crime (literally, no one will say what it was). The gang decides to get to the bottom of this, only to discover the very laws of reality are essentially optional in this neck of the woods.

Hannus's player's first time DM'ing as a dry run for his future one shot, and it was a hoot. Also the first time we got to meet Ranger Rainer's brother, Shine Rainer (who is the polar opposite of his brother thanks to all the trauma that comes with being a record keeper).

Characters

Lark the Aasimar Gunslinger (played by me) .. just trying to do as many good deeds as possible to get her dad off her back so she can get a girlfriend without him scaring her off with his whole "incomprehensible being of holy light" thing

Clare the human ??? (played by Tehn's player) .. i don't remember why she was there she just was and she was probably the most okay with everything that was going on

Hank the Aarakocra Barbarian (played by Opus's player) .. he's playing it cool after the Port Mandret thing, except this is not cool this is chaos

MOON TOWN .. one shot

It's Actias! And he needs help! For some reason, they've been disconnected from their god, and they can't figure out why! When our heroes decide to help, they end up getting snatched away to an otherworldly version of the long abandoned Sun Town and need to solve the mystery of a long cold case in order to find their way back home.

Hannus's player's main group DM'ing debut. Full of fun puzzles and good laughs (I'll never forget Actias asking us for help with a puzzle and showing us one of those shapes and holes boxes you give to kids) with plenty of throwbacks to old running gags. Felt like a nice homage to what DnD had been for us thus far.

Characters

Calamund Galbraith the Reborn Echo Fighter (played by me) .. a completely average guy who just so happened to get roped into getting "engaged" to a wraith that now endlessly pursues him .. he just really wants to go home and eat soup with his birds

Squish the Changeling Bard (played by Tehn's player) .. really worried for his good friend Actias :(

Tiel Alleywollow the Halfling Warlock (played by the Storm's player) .. a girl of few words (literally, she only speaks when casting spells) and eternally fond of her fiendish patron, an asshole imp named Dition

In'hala the Tiefling Paladin of Pan (played by the same guy as before w) .. hit her head on a ship and somehow ended up far, far south of Celosia. who knows what happened? certainly not in'hala, but EYYY SHE STILL HAS THE SICK BOOTS YEAAA

Teller Artax the Warforged Gunslinger (played by Opus's player) .. originally out to hunt down his lost creator, but got sidetracked, and then got sidetracked from that sidetrack, and then got sidetracked from that sidetrack's sidetrack, and then

THE CURIOUS CASE of ACTON RIDGE .. campaign

50 years before the events of Dahl Creek, a similar event is taking place—after a shoot out in the canyon, the town of Acton Ridge is also carpeted in strange, blue-green vines and locked in time. Our heroes must unravel the mystery of their pasts and the two intertwined fates of a pair of brilliant inventors who were seemingly on the hunt for something not of this world. Ongoing!

The Celosia DM's latest campaign and prequel to Dahl Creek. A little different vibes from the last one considering most of us apparently lived here before things went to shit, and many of us have tie-ins with the events taking place. Cool, eerie mystery fun ! ! !

Characters

Outis the Warforged Paladin (played by me) .. an archaic tour guide emissary from the Feywilds who's trapped on an endless journey towards an unseen destination .. it's sassy as hell and just the right amount of british to be infuriating

Emeril the Sea Elf chef and Fighter (played by @anonprotagging) .. retired from being a soldier and running from his past to owning a small tavern (and running from his past) .. very blunt (like his cast iron frying pan)

Spinifer the ??? Bard and travel-book writer (played by Opus's player) .. looking for the scoop on the local scene in hopes of bringing more folks over from her homeland .. common isn't her first language and she delights in learning cool new words, like "paranormal" and "clusterfuck"

Phira the Deep Gnome Monster Hunter (played by the Storm's player) .. haunted by her past and now interested in that which is haunted, this little conspiracy theorist is going to get to the bottom of this mystery if it's the last thing she does (but not actually—she'd like to live you know)

[sheepkebby]

Completing The Parish on expert difficulty

:)

Today, to celebrate Tabitha and I getting so close to the end of this challenge, I've dressed Ellis in his fanciest suit. He looks even better than Nick in my opinion.

The first map was pretty easy. We only died like once because I couldn't resist touching the jukebox and playing some funky tunes. Turns out a hoard of zombies hated my music taste. Oops.

After that blunder, Tabitha and I made it to the saferoom just fine. The bots weren't as lucky. They're just not experts like we are.

The second map, the one with the park and the alarm panic event, was definitely the hardest part of this campaign. We died maybe 6 times. At some point I had aaaalmost made it, everyone else was dead, but a Jockey got me just as I was a few yards from the saferoom. A damn shame.

On another attempt, we spotted a witch right outside that little van you hide in before the panic event. Turns out, those van doors are TOUGH. Tabitha startled the witch and she couldn't reach us, so we just shot her through the window. Get door'd idiot.

On another attempt, Tabitha and I were preparing in the van when suddenly the alarm started blaring. We turned around to see the door was wide open... But neither of us opened it?? Safe to say we didn't survive that attempt since the panic event started before we were ready. We have no idea why the door opened by itself. The only explanation was the bots did it for some reason, cus what else could it have been?

We executed them as punishment.

Anyways, here's me and Tabitha doing a little dancey dance together. Downloading the dancing healing animation mod was the best decision I've ever made.

Also at some point I noticed that in this saferoom there's a box of cereal WITH TF2 ON IT ❗❗❗ FUCK YEA I WANT A TF2 ACTION FIGURE

(Not entirely surprised this is here, since they're both Valve games. It's a really nice easter egg though. Made me happy).

Eventually, with a well timed bile bomb and some good luck, we actually made it to the saferoom with everyone alive! 6 deaths was a lot less than I thought we'd get, so either this map is easier than expected or we just got very lucky.

Next up was the car impound lot and the graveyard, which I think was the most terrifying map of this entire challenge. Before this, I didn't even have the achievement for not triggering any car alarms. I'm too much of a clumsy fool and always end up triggering at least one.

Tabitha gave me some advice though; stick to a melee weapon, don't shove any blinking cars, and don't jump on any blinking cars.

Our first attempt failed because a tank got in our way. Our second attempt failed, as I had accidentally shoved a car while trying to save Coach from a smoker.

I did notice, though, that this poster here has the same design on Ellis' hat! Maybe it's the same auto shop company that he works for?

On our third attempt, we managed to not trigger any car alarms! We made our way through the graveyard with extreme caution, throwing a pipe bomb or two that we found. I've ever been more terrified in my life. I don't think I blinked the entire time.

Despite my rising anxiety, we managed to make it to the saferoom just fine, and I got a new achievement!

Next up was the map with the parade float, and we actually made this on our first attempt!

The parade float was a little spooky, as the bots got downed on the ground floor cus they're idiots. Lucky for us though, that gave me and Tabitha some measure of safety, since the zombies were all attacking the downed bots rather than us. We killed all the zombies, but we were too late to save the bots. RIP.

It's alright, there were a few respawn closets up ahead anyway.

We got the bots back, and we made our way through town. At some point, I heard a small hoard of zombies come up behind us, so I threw my Molotov over my shoulder. Uh. Turns out there was a smoker behind us too, and it dragged one of the bots directly into the fire. The second bot decided to kill itself by also running directly into the fire in an attempt to save them. Woops!

Tabitha and I decided to book it at that point, since the saferoom was close by and there's gonna be like 8 medkits in there anyways. Tabitha got swarmed by the hoard, and I just barely managed to evade a witch and make it to the saferoom by myself.

I can't help but feel... Like maybe... This is my fault somehow... 🤔 No, not possible. I'm an expert gamer.

Now it was time for the bridge. The achievement was at our fingertips. We had plenty of medkits to spare since the game is very VERY generous in this saferoom. Tabitha and I took pipe bombs, and I took an adrenaline.

We died only twice.

On our third attempt, we had managed to successfully make our way to the middle of the bridge where the tank was. Here's an expert tip: Don't fight the fucking tank. It's a thousand times safer to just outrun it and let it kill the bots as a distraction, and we did just that.

We ran past the tank, ignoring the sounds of Coach and Nick dying behind us. I threw my pipe bomb just as the zombies started closing in on us. I was on red health, so I took my adrenaline to go a little bit faster. Tabitha and I booked it to the helicopter, and it was a clear, painless final sprint.

And finally, after everything we've been through, after all that pain, all the tears, the laughter, the friendly fire, the bot abuse, everything, ladies and gentlemen, we finally made it.

We finally completed every main L4D2 campaign on expert difficulty.

It was rough, but it was also the most fun I've ever had playing L4D2. If you have at least one friend to play with, I highly recommend trying to get this achievement yourself. Maybe you can use some of my posts for future reference to help you through some tough areas. I fully plan on making a lengthy google doc guide of everything I learned, and I'll post it within a few days. That way you guys can have a long list of strategies and expert tips if you're interested.

To everyone who cheered us on, gave us any tips, and laughed at our failed attempts, thank you so much. It's been a lot of fun posting my experience.

And thank you @thedarkfreack for sticking with me 'til the end and being the best partner ever. <3

Dead Center | Dark Carnival | Swamp Fever | Hard Rain

[vibratingskull]

Yandere!Thrawn x f!reader part 2

Part 1

tag : Yandere behaviors (duh), gaslight, murder

So then you fancy several people? Interesting...

It is just a matter of time until he finds out who and how far you've gone with them, and of that will depend their judgment.

His first instincts is to kill them, plain and simple, and it is oh so tempting, but terribly impractical.

He interrogates you casually about it, like a supporting friend would. It is true he supports you having a fulfilling relationship, but only with him that is all.

Is it too much to ask?

He looks at you squirming and flushing as you talk to him about your crush, you're not complicated : you're attracted to good people. He's not surprised, you are so pure and with a good heart...

Too pure to be soiled by those idiots.

He will need to be clever in how he will dispose of his rivals.

One of them you never talked to, just admiring his competency from afar, so he simply questions him in front of all the bridge, asking him impossible questions, backing him into a corner, forcing him to admit he doesn't know whatever answers he demands, humiliating him daily. Once you realize how much of a fool he is, you won't be interested anymore.

Another one is presenting him with another challenge. She is your friend, but you look at her with hope in the eyes and it didn't escape him. A chance for him, she is a really competent officer, a completely different fleet would greatly benefit from her competences! So he abuses his powers as Grand Admiral to accelerate her transfer.

"Are you not happy for your friend?" He asks when you came to him saddened "She will lead her own forces.", "Yes I am, I'm just sad she will have to go to the other side of the Galaxy..." you confess. He pulls you in his embrace "I know. It hurts to say goodbye to a friend, but her future is away from here."

He gaslights you about being sad about her departure. How could you feel like that when she clearly has a bright future ahead of her?

And it continues like that, he even gets ahead of you : discovering your crushes through your art even before you realize it. He deals with them accordingly.

Except for one.

You came to him all giggly and smiling. He wondered what good news you could have to share.

"We kissed." you laugh heartily.

You drop him this bomb with the most beautiful smile, stabbing him in the heart. You WHAT?!

"I am so happy for you." He lies with a gentle smile "Who is the lucky one?"

Innocent, you give him the name. And that you shouldn't have...

He carefully plans the next campaign and the demise of that fool who thinks he can have you. At night he consoles himself by watching you sleep with the hidden camera in your cabin, but you're not sleeping : you're pleasuring yourself.

He didn't hope for that much but he will gladly take it.

The images is not that great but he got sound, and those sweet moans... oh so delicious...

He free his cock and fuck his hand in synchrony with you, closing his eyes he imagine it is your hand and that he's pleasing you in return.

Oh he cannot wait to get the real deal, imagining your hand on his throat, squeezing to make him see stars, and squeezing his cock with your pussy...

He fastens his rhythm, he's so, so close, delighting himself in hearing you

You call the name of his rival as you cum.

It shatters his entire fantasy. That's it! That fucker is as good as dead!

The next day he gathers his TIE pilots, giving them a speech to encourage them, he then calls for his rival, announcing to everyone he is promoted to commandant! Your lover can't believe it! He's honored beyond words, he who looked up to Thrawn, he is now rewarded by him! "Byt the way commandant, I have a new strategy I would like to test out..." Thrawn tells him when he's sure no one's listening

You're devastated.

You cry like you never cried before, and Thrawn hugs you, soothes you, caresses your hair. "What a tragedy." He lies "So young..." You dig your nails in his white uniform, hidden in your cabin. "He must have felt emboldened by his promotion... I should not have announced it to him. I feel responsible for what happened." He murmures contrily.

"No..." you say between your sobs, you raise your head to him "No, Thrawn. It is not your fault. You couldn't have predicted his reaction." You try to reassure him.

He considers you silently. You just lost your lover but despite that you still try to console your friend, despite your sorrow.

Oh you... Oh naive you.... So naive, so sweet, so pure, so gentle, so perfect for him.

"Thank you" he smiles sadly. "Your words alleviate my heart." and he squeezes you tighter. You can't see it but he grins, fully satisfied, his plan works to perfection!

He got rid of all his rivals, now to have you all for himself!

When he pretends to part from you, his heart rejoices as you hold him back “Don’t leave me.” You plead “Not tonight… I need a friend”

“Of course, dear” He lay on your bed, you next to him, head resting on his chest.

You’re in so much pain

He’s in heaven.

@blueninjablade3, @bluechiss

[ghostiewriter]

👻 social media fake dating lumax👻 only fans percabeth👻academic rivals wyler👻stoner/cheerleader percabeth👻coffee shop lumax👻one night stand morning after wyler

okay these were all really good ideas but i had an idea for the social media fake dating lumax thing and wanted to try it out so here we go qbdjdbkqjwkqw🌚

...

Liked by henderdog, eddie.the.banished and others

lucas.sinclair don’t let her fool you, i let her win

madmax ur such a sore loser

henderdog YOU WENT WITHOUT ME?!

madmax even bet ur score :)

mikeywheelz since when did you two hang out??

Liked by nancywheeler, buckleyrobin and others

madmax showed this bozo how to skateboard and he still sucks

lucas.sinclair maybe I have a shit teacher

madmax maybe ur a shit learner

the.erica.sinclair it’s true, he’s a shit student

lucas.sinclair don’t you have a bedtime???

the.erica.sinclair don’t you have a curfew you’re currently breaking

lucas.sinclair shit

henderdog AGAIN WHERE WAS MY INVITE???

el.hopper cute!

Liked by thehair, will.the.wizard, el.hopper and others

lucas.sinclair my girlfriend is cooler than yours

henderdog GIRLFRIEND?

mikey.wheelz GIRLFRIEND??

the.erica.sinclair she’s cooler than you

madmax I agree

el.hopper I have a friend who’s a girl too! :)

eddie.the.banished HA you owe me twenty bucks thehair

thehair fuck off, that was a lucky guess

Liked by buckleyrobin, el.hopper and others

madmax I guess he’s alright or whatever

henderdog HOW ARE THEY SO NORMAL ABOUT THIS

mikey.wheelz I still don’t understand when or how this happened

will.the.wizard happy for you guys! even if this is really weird!

thehair something about this feels weird

eddie.the.banished you’re not getting your money back

thehair that’s not the point I’m trying to make, dumbass

henderdog BOYFRIEND AND GIRLFRIEND

henderdog yeah I’m still not over this

lucas.sinclair don’t get too sappy on me

Liked by el.hopper, nancywheeler and others

madmax proving on main that lucas is a simp

lucas.sinclair you do something nice and this is the treatment you get in return

madmax cry in someone else’s comment section

lucas.sinclair :(

henderdog they are kinda cute ngl

thehair he isn’t good enough for you

lucas.sinclair says who??

thehair says me, brother privileges

lucas.sinclair you’re not her brother??

thehair you’re not getting any brownie points for this, sinclair

eddie.the.banished so this is where you were instead of the campaign on wednesday…interesting lucas.sinclair

the.erica.sinclair you make lucas 13% more bearable

madmax this is why you’re my favourite sinclair

lucas.sinclair ????

...