#this is SUCH a good scenario dang

[masterwords]

10x18 - Rock Creek Park

[forwhump]

a/n; happy new year !!!!!!!!!!!!!! have a little something nobody asked for <3 a little bit of background a little bit of lore and a whole lot of fun let’s gooooooooooooo 😚

tw/cw: captivity, medical torture, kidnapping, human experiments, mutilation, disfigurement, transphobia, misgendering, sexual violence, rape/noncon, racism

living weapon whumpee, outside pov

The most expensive weapon in military history had a budget that was undisclosed. Billions, maybe trillions of taxpayer dollars had funded all the greatest living minds across the world, scientists and surgeons and war heroes alike.

Operation Archangel. They’d nicknamed it Operation Widowmaker. The goal of the operation was to craft the perfect weapon. It was simple — every weapon had a fault. All of the money and carnage in the world at their disposal, and still, no weapon was perfect. Even the very best gun needed to be reloaded. 

The most expensive operation in military history was as simple as it was complicated — billions of dollars to fund the creation of the perfect weapon. It wouldn’t need to be reloaded. It wouldn’t need to stop. It would kill when they tell it to kill and it would only stop when they decided it was done. The perfect weapon was three things; it was pitiless, it was obedient, and it was relentless. 

Its name had been Silas Park, and it was only nineteen when they had gotten their hands on it. 

Clip can still remember, surprisingly vivid, how cold that room had been. He’d been standing at Grieve’s left, Spider at his right. Grieve was sitting between them, at a table in a cold room tucked away in the lowest level of the prison. Overhead, one of the lights flickered, humming loudly with the strain. There were two requirements for the weapon — he had to be violent, and he had to be somebody nobody would miss. 

They’d narrowed down the prospects, and the General, Grieve, had wanted to meet with them himself. 

It was going to be Park from the second he had been escorted into that room to meet them. It was obvious. 

He was a big kid. Park was tall in a way that was imposing, almost intimidating. He had to duck his head to fit through the doorway, forced down by the prison guards leading him in, and when he lifted it, he grinned at them. He had a wide, boyish smile, handsome and charming, dimples carving his face on both sides. Arrogant. From the corner of his eye, Clip had seen something twitch in the side of Grieve’s face and he knew that he knew it then, too. This kid was their weapon. 

The guards sat Park at the table across from Grieve. They shackled his hands to the surface and his ankles to the concrete beneath. A guard stood just inside the door, while the rest filtered out to wait behind the safety of the two way mirrors. The entire time, Park grinned at them. 

Park was actually kind of a crapshoot and it was hard to believe that it was going to be him. Clip had been kind of skeptical when his mugshot had come across the table — they were looking at some truly awful men, deplorable criminals, the worst of the worst, and some random Asian kid doing a couple years? 

He had a record of violence going back as young as thirteen, but a lot of it had been excused. Included, with his mugshot and his criminal record, were a handful of newspaper clippings where he was lauded, in fact, for his violence. Some considered it vigilantism, it seems. This last time, over the age of majority, he was tried as an adult for an assault on a twenty five year old tattoo artist that had put him in the hospital on life support and with permanent brain damage; it was Park’s brother in law, and he’d beaten his pregnant sister so badly she’d miscarried at twenty eight weeks. 

There had been a huge outcry for Park not to do any time; he was given three years because he got on the stand and openly admitted to trying to kill him. He was violent. It didn’t seem like he maintained a lot of impulse control. There was a likelihood he would reoffend.

However, he had family. There were people that would miss him. According to the records the prison had given them, there were people that would visit, and they would visit often. He had four sisters, and they each came to see him, one notably more often than the rest, almost every second day; the sister from the incident, if Clip has to guess. His parents came to see him every Sunday. 

His parents, fortunately, were both immigrants, and immigrants, fortunately, were easy to incentivize, especially with roots as deep as grandchildren. The threat, however, the surveillance, would need to be constant, and the buyout, substantial; it added quite a chunk to the weapons budget. Clip hadn’t been able to imagine that being worth it for some random kid. 

He could understand now. Whoever had put his mugshot in that pile must’ve already met him, because they must’ve known. It was something in the way he held his shoulders, in the way he looked at them, in the way he sat, cocky, confident, smug, but something else, too. Something a little more dangerous. He was the biggest person in that room. 

With a grin and a lift of his eyebrows, he’d said, “what can I do for you, gentlemen?” 

On account of the vigilantism — and phenomenal lawyers, and, probably, if Vein had to guess, being young and handsome — Park only got a few years, but realistically, he should’ve done more. A lot more. It wasn’t so much that he had tried to kill his brother in law but the messy, cruel way he had done it. It was the crime that had gotten his mugshot thrown in with all the others. No person should ever have to experience the level of violence this kid had inflicted. He was fucked up. And he’d never been sorry. Vocally, he’d never been sorry. 

It was obvious in the way he had looked across the table at them, young and arrogant and amused. He was a constant danger to the people around him. He was going to be the perfect weapon. 

A generous donation to the prison and the deportation of Park’s parents and his fate was sealed. 

He’d serve them for years, but his life ended that day, at nineteen. 

Weaver and Carver were names everybody knew, high and low, even outside the reaches of surgeons and medical journals. Pioneers, some called them. Unconventional. 

Really, they were mad. Their surgeries and their treatments, all experimental. Surgical and biological engineering, they called it. 

Really, they were human experiments. 

Thread had been flattered when he had gotten the call at the hospital, when he’d been pulled from his residency and hand selected to work under renowned Carver and Weaver at a highly classified, government funded medical program. They didn’t tell him what to expect. 

His name had been Park once. They call him Park still, but there isn’t a lot of Park left. He’d been a big kid when they brought him in, but he hadn’t been big enough, not as big as they needed him to be. The first line of offence, for any predator, is fear — they needed him to be fearsome. They needed a weapon that wouldn’t only kill the enemy, but made sure they died scared. 

There wasn’t a bit of him left untouched. Bone was transplanted, plated, organs replaced, flesh grafted. He’d woken on the surgical table as the scalpel had split the sensitive skin of his forehead, just beneath the line of his hair. He’d been shivering so hard his teeth had rattled against each other, his breath coming in short, wet pants. 

His brain was next. They needed him violent, but they needed him obedient. Pliant. 

“What,” he manages, and exhales sharply, trying to speak through clenched, rattling teeth. “What did you do to me?” 

Above him, Weaver makes a trilling sort of sound, the kind that passes as laughter. “At ease, Park,” he says. “You won’t remember any of this. We’ll make sure of it.”

Park was a fighter. 

He woke during surgery, and he woke with a strength they had just given to him. Three nurses died at his bedside before the soldiers were able to restrain him and he was sedated again. 

The first three lives he took in the district were before he was even off the table. 

They would be far from the last. 

Beneath the neon glow of the surgical lights, what was left of Silas Park sat up on the surgical table. 

A lot of him was still in there, was the foundation for what they’d created; it was impossible to tell by looking at him. If Thread hadn’t seen the construction, if he hadn’t had a hand in sewing him together, piece by piece, he imagined looking at him now, coming back to life, would make him retch. He was horrific. There wasn’t a kinder way to say or describe it, that’s as cut and dry as Thread could have been — Park was horrific. A grotesque patchwork of grafted flesh, of military grade technology, and the wounds were still fresh, the staples still raised. The jigsaw lines of his flesh, pulled tight and stitched together over the bulk of him, all looked strained and sore. It looked like it hurt. 

Park looked around the room at them, and he looked at them vacantly. 

“Can you tell us your name?” Weaver had asked, and he couldn’t. Weaver’s eyes had crinkled above his surgical mask. He always had very animated eyes — a byproduct, Thread wondered, of always wearing a mask. “Excellent,” he said. 

Park was kept in seclusion until a team had been chosen for him. 

He was shaping up to be a phenomenal weapon, to be exactly what they needed him to be. Every field test, he passed with flying colours. He could take a bullet and it wouldn’t slow him down. 

He was perfect. 

John Darren Grace was a formerly decorated captain and strategist, living at home after active duty with his wife and young children. He’d been bored, and when Operation Archangel had beckoned him out of retirement, he’d gone without much of a fight. 

John was Darren to anybody he cared about enough to tell his name, and Point to the men he worked with. He’d always been Point because of his cane, his precious Little Debbie. It was hooked on one end, scythe like, barbed on the other. He’d been known to do a lot of damage with the point of that cane. 

It was strapped to his back when he descended into the darkness of the district for the first time. 

Darren was to oversee the unit where the weapon and its team were being held. A branch of Operation Archangel were the super soldiers — an entire, unstoppable battalion to work alongside the weapon. Being the first trial, they didn’t risk any working men. They went for the reserves. 

Darren was assigned, specifically, to the select few chosen to work directly with the weapon, directly under him. The team was selected without Darren’s approval, or his knowing why. His first job was to track them down and bring them in, any means necessary. No witnesses. 

He had a lot of fun with this first job. 

Point found the girl in Texas. 

They’d gone down in search of her brother, Robin. He’d done three tours during his time, but Point couldn’t say what he’d done during those tours that had warranted him being assigned to the Freak Weapon Team. Frankly, he didn’t read any of the information he’d been given on any of the assets. He looked at the photograph and their general vicinity and went sport hunting. 

Robin was wandering the streets of Texas somewhere. He was last seen near Dallas. He was blonde. 

They found him, with ease they found him, because Point always found them. But with him, he found the girl. 

She was just a little thing, kneeling on the floor next to Robin, who didn’t have a lot of his teeth left and looked like he’d definitely seen better days. Point had no sympathy for the ones that fell off, he never had — if he wasn’t strong enough to be a soldier, he never should’ve enlisted. If he couldn’t handle it, he should never have wasted their time. 

Except it wasn’t a waste, because he had a girl with him. She must’ve been his sister — they had the same shock of white hair. Only hers was long, almost impossibly, pulled into a braid that looked soft and made her look a bit like a schoolgirl. She looked young — she could’ve been eighteen. It made Point angle his head. He’d always been very imaginative. A creative type, his wife always told him. Kind of a visionary. And he’d envisioned that little girl in a little pleated skirt, bent over the desk in his office back at the district, and the course of her life changed forever. 

“You’ve got a girl,” he’d purred. 

She’d looked at him, and she was probably trying to look indignant, but if she managed it went over Point’s head. She was very pouty, that’s all he noticed. Cartoon princess sort of mouth. 

He’d always wanted a pet. 

As the door grinded open, Bleak looked up, eyebrows lifting slowly as he watched Point and his extraction team filter back into the barracks. Everybody seemed to be present and accounted for, with the addition of the blonde slung over Point’s shoulder. A girl. Completely naked and long legged, her hair a white sheet at Point’s back. 

“What the hell?” He said. 

Point flashed him a grin as he passed his bunk. He’d always had a weird sort of grin, Bleak thought — didn’t reach his eyes. But, generous, he said, “gonna have to hurry and get in line if you want a turn with her.” 

“What?” Bleak said. “Are you serious?” 

“‘Course,” Point agreed, not breaking stride. “Wouldn’t be right if I didn’t share.” 

Bleak cracked a grin. She was limp over Point’s shoulder, unconscious. He thought, poor thing has no idea what she’s in for. 

None of them did, turns out. 

The walk back to the barracks was a solemn one. Over Point’s shoulder, the girl cried the whole way, but she was crying so hard she wasn’t making any noise, just these pathetic, hitching things. On a very shallow, base level, they made Vineyard kinda hard; they sounded a lot like the sounds she made when he was inside her. On a deeper level, if he thought about it too hard, he knew he would finally lose the steadily loosening grip he had on his composure — he would lose his fuckin’ mind. What does she have to be crying about? 

The walk back to the barracks was a solemn one. They each left bloody footprints behind them, uniforms soaked through by what little had been left of the soldiers not fortunate enough to make it out of that unit with them. About half of them hadn’t. The dog had killed so many of them. 

The dog had slaughtered so many of them. 

It was getting out of control, that thing. It was getting too strong — too sentient. It was becoming too aware. 

It was never supposed to think all that much for itself, that was the thing. It was supposed to bite and kill and do whatever vicious attack dogs do, the genetically engineered weapon, but that was it. It was supposed to turn off and back on again. They were supposed to say attack and it was supposed to do just that. It wasn’t really supposed to think. It wasn’t supposed to be able to form attachments. 

But that fuckin’ girl. It was fault, with her soft little noises and her wet little cunt. She was trouble. Vineyard had called it from the very first time he had laid eyes on her. Point never should’ve brought her here. 

It wasn’t his fault, though, not really, not entirely. The girl was to blame. The dog was dumb — it was simple. It had been modified that way. The girl had found a way to take advantage of that — she was manipulating it. And they had made it so easy for her; they took this pretty, pathetic thing, and thrown it in a cage with a monster that hadn’t been around a pretty girl since even before they had gotten their hands on it. 

Point never should’ve brought her here. 

For a long time, the unit was as close to silent as it had ever been. Not entirely silent, not ever — Bleak didn’t think this place was capable of that. There was always some sort of chaos. The girl still cried, Point made these snarling, animal sort of sounds, and her body was making these wet noises that Bleak was sure would be enticing to him any other time. 

But he had the girl face down, bent over the corpse of the dog, so freshly dead it was still bleeding. When it had died, it had been messy. There had been so much blood. Point had used leaking fistfuls of it as lube, right from the cavity of the dog’s opened throat, leaving shimmering handprints on her bare skin as he had fucked her and that thing had taken its last, gurgling breaths beneath them. Bleak had never heard anybody cry like that girl was crying. 

Crowded close together on the other side of the common room, the assets had gotten really quiet, the junkie and the brown guy and the dyke. They usually wore grey — that day, it was shades of rust and ruby, splattered with blood and chunks of the dog. 

Bleak stood with his men, and he watched just as silently. He watched as the dog got cold and he watched the way the girl kept one of her small hands twisted in his bloody sweatshirt the whole time. It was hard to feel bad for her, she made it hard to feel bad for her, but it wasn’t quite sitting right, not with Bleak and not with any of the rest of them, if the tense, curdling silence was any indication. 

There was a hysteria to Point, a frantic sort of mania, a frenzied sort of cruelty. Something wasn’t right, but nobody stopped him. The girl begged for help, and none of them helped her. Silently, they watched. 

They should’ve known something was wrong when Point first cracked that girl in half in the basement, and they should’ve stopped him then, as he fucked her on top of the body of her dog.

But they didn’t.

Bleak tilted his head back to look up, up, up at the dog, standing tall so many feet above him. 

The precious weapon. The greatest achievement in the history of military weaponry. Park. 

He’d only been a kid when he got here. Looking up at him, Bleak could remember that kid but he couldn’t see that there was anything left of him in there anyway. Park stood tall above him, above where he was slumped against the concrete wall, both of kneecaps crushed. Park’s hands were bigger, probably, than dinner plates, and he had a strength that had grown more than they had anticipated, more than it was ever supposed to. Every day, he was getting more dangerous. Every day, he was getting harder to control. 

Head angled down towards Bleak, his hair was hanging in his face, long and inky, shadowing his scarred face. When he grinned, it was a flash of teeth from the shadows and Bleak had never felt the way that made him feel before, not once in his life. 

“I didn’t touch her,” he said, and his voice was coming out all shaky, trapped behind his chattering teeth. His legs hurt so bad — he didn’t think he’d ever been in so much pain before.

Park watched him closely. Fuck, he was big. “Yeah,” he said, and his voice was just as awful as the rest of him, a rumble so low it was almost distorted. “You did.” 

Bleak shook his head against the wall, trying to take a full breath in. Failing. “I didn’t,” he said. “I swear.” 

Slowly, Park angled his head. “You can keep lying,” he said. “You’re gonna die anyway.” 

“Please,” Bleak tried softly. He was thinking about his girlfriend — his fiancée. They were supposed to get married next year. What was going to be left of him to send home to her? 

“Wren begged,” Park said, and his voice had gone flat. Bleak was going to die. “Didn’t he?” 

Bleak didn’t mean to flinch, but he did. Park flashed his teeth at him again and it was unkind. 

Bleak’s last words were a series of please and stop and oh, god. 

Park was picking chunks of Bleak from his teeth and from under his fingernails for days. 

Standing in the gallery, Thread watches closely as the bonesaw cracks into the weapon’s skull once again. 

Weaver and Carver weren’t ready to give up on him yet, but he had officially been declared a hazard. He was no longer within their control. The soldiers had lost so many — Point was down over half his men, and Thread had doubts that any of them had died quickly. The weapon was made to hurt, to inflict suffering, but it was always supposed to be at their behest. He was supposed to be their strongest weapon, but he was never supposed to be stronger than them. He was out of control. 

This was a Hail Mary before he was deemed defective and they had him put down. The girl was to be removed from the unit, placed somewhere else, somewhere she couldn’t influence him, and the dog was to undergo a series of chemical lobotomies before he was released back to the unit. 

Wipe the slate clean again, Weaver described it. Cut out the cancer. 

In the dredges of the basement, locked behind armoured steel doors, the dog had started to lose his mind. 

Working the guard shift outside, Vineyard could hear the dull, rhythmic sound of him beating his head against the wall again, again, again. 

It made him smile. The captain, Point, had been gone a few weeks, furlough, and he’d missed a lot while he’d been away. Vineyard wasn’t looking forward to what he would do when he found out the girl had been transferred, but he figured the dog would lessen that blow a little bit. He was fucked up. He was getting worse every day. 

They’d tried to have him execute one of his subordinates. It was a test in obedience, and he hadn’t passed. For whatever reason, at whatever turn, there was a stubborn dredge of Park left in there, fighting to be let out. It was too much of a risk and he’d been forced into isolation. It had the desired effect. 

Every so often, inside his cage, the dog would lose it. He would start shouting, bellowing, but he hadn’t been able to speak since the lobotomies and his shouting was always unintelligible. 

Use your words, Vineyard would tell him. I can’t help you until you tell me what you want. 

He was looking forward to introducing Point to this new dog. They were waiting to start his obedience training until he came back. 

Of course, Point never came back. 

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

the Fontaine archon quest is still making me feel too many things so here (spoilers for the 4.2 archon quest if you haven't played it yet):

what if you were from Fontaine, the first sin on your shoulders and Primordial Seawater running through your veins like the rest of them. the prophecy hung heavily over your head, a source of constant worry during late nights when you're alone and can't sleep- Childe begged you to leave the nation of Justice multiple times, to come with him to Snezhnaya, but you refused to leave behind your friends to be swallowed by the waters. your worries only worsen when Childe is arrested in the Opera House and taken away to the Fortress, then spontaneously goes missing in the dead of night.

your heart squeezes with dread and sharp concern when Foul Legacy suddenly reemerges from the maw of a colossal stellar narwhal, the edges of his mask and armor smoldering from days of battle. the final glance he gives you is full of pain and desperation before he falls back through the rift in the world, and you want to start screaming but can't, the words stuck in your throat as you swallow and simply stare at the starry crack where the whale and Foul Legacy vanished.

you can't lose Childe. you can't lose Foul Legacy. you can't lose Ajax. so despite every instinct screaming not to, you follow Iudex Neuvillette and the Traveler through the portal.

Foul Legacy is there, curled up on the ground, but he still lets out a raspy trill when you rush over to him, weakly leaning into your arms as you pull him far away from the ensuing fight. you bury your face in his coppery hair, shaking from the weight of stress and worry, and you feel Legacy's claws curl gently around your wrist.

everything from that point seems to pass in a blur- the narwhal's defeat, the flooding of Fontaine, the waters slowly receding... and finally, finally- everything seems to calm, smoothing out like silk and soothing your frazzled nerves. you plan on leaving for Snezhnaya, wanting to keep Childe company as he heals from his ordeal- the very first thing that he did when he transformed back to his human state was give you a silly grin, bringing out your first smile in a few months.

and yet your peace did not last, for Celestia judges all at their own discretion. although the sins of Fontaine have been washed away, they still deem you a sinner for colluding with the Abyss, your love for Childe and Foul Legacy and his love for you considered a horrible crime in the eyes of the divine.

your sentence? execution.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

the never stop blowing up vhs is where cute twinks go to get harmed

[birdmenmanga]

this IDIOT doesn't even understand geopolitics well enough to know how many united wings reps there should be! ! ! everybody point and laugh! ! !

[rabotimagines]

"Tease" GN BOT Reader x [Yandere/Obsessed] Ironhide, Prowl, Ratchet, Optimus.

Summary: The bots snap. Or BOT Reader gets their valve pounded.

G1 characters: Ironhide, Prowl, Ratchet, Optimus

Warnings: CNC (technically), Yandere/obsessed bots! Prowl uses his stasis cuffs, Ratchet abuses his knowledge as a medic.

Genre/Theme: Yandere Smut 🔞 MDNI

Pronouns: You, Your, Yours

Notes: Reader wants to frag but thought it would be more fun to tease the bots while playing coy. The bots don't know this, however, hence the CNC instead of NC or Dubious consent because they think its full NC from their perspective. (Prowl has assumptions but isn't sure, While Optimus is the only one who does actually know for certain you want him.) G1 Optimus would be such a soft Yandere I'm sorry it's true. Prowl and Optimus's parts directly references their first imagine I wrote with Yandere them here

Ironhide is the fastest out of these mechs who snaps first in this scenario. Now, don't get it twisted. Ironhide lasts much longer than other autobots not included here. (Sunstreaker, Skyfire) But out of the other contenders here, he snaps near immediately compared to the rest of them. It starts with soft brushes of your em field when passing each other and you don't react. And Ironhide can see the shape of your aft while your bending over to help fix teletraan 1- and it cultivates when you accidentally run into him and his servos fly onto your frame to steady you not realizing it's you- and your frame is pressed right up against his own and your servos are on each other- and then Ironhide can't fragging take it anymore!

Ironhide drags you into their equivalent of a storage closet before you can protest. It's a heated and frustrating blur, but Ironhide does remember yanking the manual release on your modesty panel- Next thing he knows, he's pounding into your valve from behind where you're both standing. Ironhide curses when you squeeze down on him while you groan against Ironhides' servo. Ironhide had covered your mouth when he yanked you in here. While the back of your frame was pressed right against his front. There's a soft clank of his windshield glass getting hit on your armor every time he bottoms out inside you again.

Primus- you little- You didn't mean to do it! Ironhide knows- he's just a filthy fragging pervert who can't help himself! Every muffled cry out of you only makes Ironhide snap his hips harder and harder. The heavy want in his core only getting hotter and hotter the longer he's fragging you silly. Primus- Ironhide fantasized about this so many times, and the press of your frame against his and your valve taking his spike like this didn't even come close to his own dirty little thoughts. You're so good- taking his spike so good- not struggling too much against him neither- Ironhide lately wishes he'd dragged you in here by your front because he really wants to taste your glossia right now.

A strangled noise, muffled but still audible, escapes your throat when Ironhides free servo grabs your spike and practically starts fragging you right into his own fist with the force of his thrusts. Your spinal strut arches back against his own frame, where you're flush against one another. Your frame is trapped between ironhide and his own servos, and you overload on his spike. Valve clenching down on him and a muffled but used sound escapes you when Ironhide only speeds up. And Ironhide groans and stills to finally overload inside you.

You groan against his servo and Ironhide just continues to softly rut against your aft. Riding out his own overload and making sure his transfluid is stuffed in your valve proper. Your spent spike is twitching in his servo and Ironhide pushes his em field out to praise you- His dang glossia wasn't cooperating with him right. So instead he's pushing his field to wrap around your frame like the rest of him was. the Good, good, you're doing so good. that Ironhide feels in his struts caresses your softly twitching frame.

Ironhide pulls his servo away from your mouth, and you pant in greedy vents. Ironhide then gags you with his digits next- The flat of his digit pads pressing down flat on your glossia. His own glossia dragging along the covering of your audial- Ironhides spike twitching inside you when you whine around his digits. Ironhide had a good amount of pent-up tension he still needed to get outta himself concerning you.

He's lucky you were so understandin' to his predicament...

-

Prowl didn't know what else he could do to avoid the new influx of- unsavory imagery infecting his proccessor whenever he would see you. He'd chalked it up to it being because he'd seen you as he had in the hallway self servicing. And now he could not get the imagery out of his helm. And then new... fantasies continued to turn in Prowl's processor. His logic center continued to randomly calculate subduing measures. He'd now made a habit of dismissing them and keeping his servos behind his own back when you'd have to be near one another.

Prowl is coming out of his habsuite, and you suddenly crash into Prowl, and you both end up on the floor in a tangle of limbs. You're practically straddling his lap- you apologize and sit up and in the process your aft grinds down on Prowls modesty panel. Prowl is hit with the sequence of moves he'd need to take to knock you on the floor and get on top of you instead. And he dismisses it, and he forces himself still. In fact, he's so still you look down at him in confusion and ask if he's alright.

Then your em field of all things brushes against Prowl, and there's a hint of- playfulness? It makes Prowls logic center run, and it runs into a conclusion. There was a thirty percent chance you'd been doing this to Prowl on purpose. Every little pose and stretch- the longer Prowl recalled incidents, the chances had jumped up to forty percent. And then Prowl does something he loathes to admit- but he reacts without thinking. He follows through with the take down sequence prompt and swiftly knocks you off of him. And before Prowl knows it, you're on your front, with your wrists bound in the stasis cuffs he always carries in his subspace.

After a heated few klicks, Prowl grabbed you and dragged you through his doorway into his habsuite, the door closing behind you both. What he was doing to you- but Prowl knew- Prowl was following his intuition. He was trusting his intuition that said the forty percent was correct, and he was reacting accordingly. (Never mind the fact that you were incapacitated-) and he snapped open your modesty panel and your valve was dripping on his digits in less than a klick and the percent shoots up to fifty percent and Prowl (this was wrong- this was wrong-) takes that chance and spikes you right there on his habsuite floor.

Prowl rarely cursed. It just wasn't a habit- but he's muttering curses under his vents when he enters you and promptly bottoms out. You felt- wonderful. Prowl thrusts hard and fast- he never punished you for self servicing in the ark hallway- this was for that- nothing else! Prowls pace doesn't falter when you start moaning and grunting every time he bottoms out. And his door wings don't fan high when you start saying his designation against the floor where your faceplate is pressed. (And he's certainly not fantasizing about pulling you onto his berth after this and fragging you senseless-)

Prowl notices that you're drooling on the floor. (His stasis cuffs having taken function of your fine motor controls.) Prowls servos move from your waist to your pauldrons and he's pushing you down further and thrusting into you harder. Your valve clenches down on his spike and you're murmuring his designation over and over- Prowl overloads with a sharp invent of your designation while pressing down on your back. You're twitching around him and panting lazily against the floor. His cuffs still preventing you from doing much else. Prowl gets the inappropriate thought of kissing the back of your neck and he does not follow through with it.

He does, however, lean to the side of your audial and speak. "Consider this- punishment for your habit of self servicing outside of your habsuite." Your vent hitches at Prowl's words. Prowl realizes he still needs to punish you for playing with him so inappropriately- Prowl didn't consider this nearly enough punishment for your misgivings.

Prowl is running through what else he's going to do to punish you while he drags your frame upwards.

-

Frankly the only reason Ratchet doesn't snap before Prowl is because he took measures to try and keep you safe from him. Which was limiting his interactions with you unless absolutely necessary. Which was working- to a degree. Ratchet keeps thinking about you and the few interactions have left his frame hot and his engine wanting to rev. It's getting harder for Ratchet to continue to convince himself to leave the room when you enter- and then you walk right into the medbay and Ratchet has no where to go- you see him and walk right up to him- and Hoist is off base and he's not gonna be able to handle this- and you'd come in with a visible limp so Ratchet can't just kick you out without seeing you. (He should! He should do just that-) And you ask if Ratchet can realign your leg pivot.

That was simple- Ratchet should be able to do that at least... So you're lying back on the medical slab and Ratchet has a hold of your leg and his other servo is on your pelvis and he just- Ratchet pushed up and to the left and feels your leg realign and you audibly groan in relief. Ratchet found himself staring at how your plating all slacked after the action. And Ratchet takes much too long to realize he hadn't moved from his position and still had your leg propped up. His other servo still on your pelvis' when you're on your back looking up at him.

Ratchet needed to move now.

So Ratchet leans forward forcing your other leg to the side and his servo reaches for your throat- and you stop but you don't panic because you trust him- (He was your medic of course you trusted him-) and one of the multi tools in his digits zapped you right in the throat. Your own sound of surprise is cut sort because Ratchet just shorted your vocalizor. Your optics go wide, and you jerk backward and start trying to use your voice- but nothing comes out. And nothing would sound out of you for a few klicks. Ratchet realizes that whatever is seriously wrong with himself might not be fixable when Ratchets first thought is to feel bad for shorting your vocilizor- not because he might have hurt you. (Or because it's a gross violation of your trust-) But because now Ratchet won't be able to hear what sounds you'd make.

Ratchets yanking the manual release on your modesty panel and climbing up onto the medical slab too, and before he knows it- He's spiking you right then and there in the middle of the medbay. Ratchet savors the reaction of you arching off the medical slab, mouth open but no groan or moan to accompany it. Ratchet pulls back and re enters you slow and watches your valve open up to accommodate the girth of his spike. You grit your denta, and your own spike pressurizes properly, and Ratchet doesn't hesitate to grab it and stroke you off languidly. His grip tightening at your spike tip and giving you a gentle squeeze at the base every pump back down-

Your hips jerk against his own and his servo, and Ratchet actually feels gratified when your valve clenches down on him- (he shouldn't! He shouldn't! It was a basic reaction to him servicing your spike! Ratchet knows better!) Ratchet groans and starts snapping his hips and fragging you proper on the medical slab. His optics are trained on your faceplate- watching how your optics almost shuttered closed- your optical ridge furrowed. Your optics are as bright as he'd ever seen them. Your mouth closes and opens with no sound coming out of you still- Ratchet really wishes he hadn't shorted your vocalizor! Ratchet needed to hear what sound you'd make right now- how you'd sound taking his spike- how you'd sound overloading on his spike- How you'd sound begging for him-

Your spike throbs in his servo, and the only sounds out of you are the slick sounds of your pre lubrant in his servo and your valve when Ratchet bottomed out inside you. You arch against Ratchet, and he jerks your spike in quick pumps and watches you overload all over your chassis and on his spike. Ratchet then rushed forward and locked his derma against your own. His glossia lapping against yours while he snapped his hips. And Ratchet overloads right in your valve while sucking on your glossia.

Ratchet pulls away from the messy kiss and huffs in heavy vents. You're venting harsh, and in the middle of your soundless vents, your vocalizor resets, and Ratchet can suddenly hear your quiet cursing. Ratchet rolls his hips, and you audibly keen- your valve twitching around his spike. Primus- Ratchet was going to need to hear how you sounded overloading on his spike a second time... and maybe a third and maybe a fourth-

Ratchet uses his credentials to lock the medbay door via his HUD and then sends a message about closing the medbay temporally.

-

Optimus is suffering. He's suffering. He is suffering! He has not known peace since his infatuation with you. And he's not known sanity since he's noticed how even more tantalizing you suddenly seemed to be. But Optimus may look- even though he has to yank his gaze away. And Optimus may fantasize- even though he doesn't let himself indulge in those thoughts. Optimus does not "snap." He may be suffering and wound terribly taunt, but you didn't need to suffer because Optimus was a filthy pervert- this was his problem, not your own! (A prime example and the only bot on earth who keeps it together yandere or not!)

Then you're in his office for something, and you ask to examine his desk- and Optimus is confused about why you would possibly need to examine his desk? But like most things involving you, he finds he can't deny you the simple request, and Optimus scoots his chair back to allow you in front of him. And then you promptly sit down right in his lap!? A startled sound escapes Optimus and his servos hover right over your frame. You're on his modesty panel- and you say you didn't think Optimus were this dense. Dense about what exactly?!

And then you admit it. Admit that you'd been purposely teasing Optimus- because you wanted him to proposition you?! Then Optimus's servos fly onto your hips when you rock on his lap. And you tell him he can throw you out If he isn't interested- and Optimus can't let you assume that so his panel is pulling back and he's pulling you upwards so his spike can pressurize correctly. The sound of just your own panel pulling back excites Optimus much more than he'd imagine it would.

Optimus's digits find your array quick, and he vents when he can feel how your valve is already wet and your spike pressurizes in no time at all. And then you ask if he wants to spike you and Optimus abruptly realizes he hadn't asked he'd just assumed you'd be willing to take his spike- After scolding himself a bit for getting caught up in his own needs- wants, Optimus asks if you'd rather spike him. Optimus's engine purrs in his chassis when you say you wanna get spiked by him right now.

Optimus has to take his time prepping you- he has to, his spike is admittedly rather large. By the time he gets two digits down to his knuckle in your valve you're squirming and making all sorts of noise in his lap- and every sweet sound out of you is going right to Optimus's spike and he's dripping pre lubricant on himself- But Optimus just savors every little reaction he gets out of you while opening you up for himself- and then he believes you'll be fine at least taking half his spike. And you're asking him to spike you, and he can't deny you when you want him almost as badly as he needs you. It's a task and then some but you've got at least half of Optimus's spike in your valve and Optimus figures he should show you how much he wants you- Show you what you'd wanted from him with all of your teasing.

Optimus starts fragging you up and down his length (it doesn't matter if you're in his frame class or maybe even bigger he's strong and he's using his matrix enhanced strength to frag you down his spike like a toy.) And Primus you feel amazing squeezing around his length so perfectly- and every noise out of you is music to his audials. Optimus is muttering praises and cooing over how darling your expression is while he's stuffing your valve with all you can take of him. (If you're big enough/trained enough that Optimus can actually bottom out inside you, he's groaning hard. And his engine revs loud.)

Optimus's em field brushes flush against you, and he's telling you how good you're being for him. His spike throbs when your optics noticeably brighten under the attention. (Sweet - you were so sweet for him-) And he starts pulling you down his spike faster and faster- You overload on his spike with a groan, and Optimus follows right after. His spike throbbing and pumping thick amounts of filling transfluid into you. His transfluid starts spilling out of your valve and into his own lap.

Stars- you were amazing...

It takes a few klicks, but eventually, Optimus shifts you up and then drops you back down again. Optimus can't help but enjoy the sight of how your spinal strut arches and how you squeeze down on him. When you question him, Optimus points out how you'd wanted this- all your hard work of teasing him was for this- so Optimus was going to make sure you were satisfied. Completely and utterly.

Was it selfish and almost completely for Optimus's own desire? Yes. But Optimus felt justified being just a touch mean to you. Especially when you'd been purposely making Optimus stress over, apparently nothing for multiple cycles. He's just- punishing you a bit. He was justified doing that. Now, wasn't he? Optimus wondered exactly how much he should punish you- but he guessed he could decide when he got there how much was too much for you, now couldn't he.

Optimus was going to make sure you were satisfied enough that you'd never try and tease him like you had again. He could do that much for you at least.

(Spoilers but Optimus frags you so hard, and so many times your frame ends up entering a forced stasis to recover.)

[chiipay]

Omg I love your works!!

So basically I really want the 'protecting you' scenarios (like the reader is getting harrassed and our bllk bfs throw a punch) of Rin, Karasu, Nagi and Barou (and anyone else you want!!!) Thank you 🥰🥰

Okay (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ I'm suck at this scenarios so I'll try my best (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

F*CK OFF 👹- ITOSHI RIN

You and Rin are just strolling in the supermarket to pick up some groceries since you kinda ate everything in the fridge as it was for 'emotional food therapy' you said to Rin. He didn't budge about it and just grabbed the back of your shirt and dragged you to the supermarket with him.

The thing happened when he left your side for a minute because his teammates called up on him there and he had to shoved them to the other side because they seem to be bugging you in his eyes.

You were just strolling down to find some ice cream for Rin- bending your body a bit to grab out from the cooler. A whistle from a guy behind you was heard making you shudder and alert of it. You quickly stand up properly and twist your head 90° (jk) to face the guy. You thought about slapping him but you somehow met with an unconvincing entrance of Itoshi Rin already grabbed the collar of the guy shirt-

You quickly step in and drag Rin away from the poor guy who now looks anxious while you mutter a small apology to him somehow you felt bad. As you drag rin away from the scene, Rin looks towards the guy while lifting middle finger to him as he grumbles a lot of curse words making you drag him with you even faster-

"I'm gonna kill you- gonna hunt you- fuck you- kys- go die- commit suicide- don't stare at her- fuck you- fucking disgusting- die die die-" you have to put your hand on rin's mouth so he wouldn't try to curse the poor guy whole generation.

BEGONE 🗣️‼️- KARASU TOBITO

Dang- you just wanted to see karasu at practice today- why is this happening to you..ughhh-

Some guy came up to you while you were navigating about the location karasu gave you. The guy kept bugging you to have a ride with him in his vehicle but even with so many refusal he seems to not be getting a hint. You were thiiiiissssss 🤏 close to hit him with your purse.

" come on, it will be fun-"

He whistles at you making you infuriating even more.

' dang-just leave me alone- WHY THE HELL KARASU SEND ME A LOCATION OF NOWHERE TO BE FOUND-"

You walk even faster on the sidewalk completely ignoring the guy who kept giving offers to you. You didn't even realize his vehicle stopped as he stepped out of his own vehicle and started to walk up to you.

You noticed the guy a minute later before you started to run for your life while that same guy chased after you. ' OH SH-'

You bumped into some hard chest making you look up instantly and met with the so-called crow head. Karasu smiles cheekily at you and looks at the guy who chased you who's now just standing in front of karasu.

" thanks for assisting her, sure you got some business to do aren't yah? "

Karasu put his hand on the guy's shoulder. You didn't know what was happening due to karasu holding you close to his chest. But you could hear the guy slowly walking away leaving you and karasu alone.

" sorry- yer good? Thought you got lost in the forest for a sec."

" you did a shitty job on sending a location-"

"my bad. Let me treat ya some goods kay?"

TING KE TING🔥- NAGI SEISHIRO

You weren't a big fan of football but somehow Nagi managed to drag you into one of his games today. You have lost when he started to give you a puppy eyes look. It was his cheeks you think that your defense got lost there. Bro has chubby cheeks you could not resist.

You sigh deeply as you look towards nagi from your seat. Yeah he's good at playing it- it's not like you are mesmerized by his goal when he trapped the ball perfectly and tricked his ally thinking his going to pass it- yeah you definitely aren't mesmerized by it.

" hi- is this seat taken?" A pair of eyes came into your vision as the guy asked you.

"oh- uh no.." you shake your head a bit. The guy smiles towards the answer and happily sits next to you making you try to distance yourself away for a bit---🤏

"that guy is good right? That number 10, nagi. " The guy leans a bit towards your side making you anxiously getting nervous asf.

" Huh-? O-oh oh yeah number 10? He's very good at trapping.. he's a good player." You nervously laugh a bit. It's kinda funny to talk about your partner to some stranger. You talked to him for a bit while making a conversation about football which you weren't interested in but still managed to answer because Nagi used to ramble it to you. While talking, you didn't notice Nagi sending death glare at the guy you were talking to from afar.

You stop talking for a bit as you look back to the field to seek for Nagi just to find him looking at you while pouting from the very far. You got confused as Nagi lifted his hand and pointed to the seat next to you making you look at the side and see the guy who looked at you too. It took you a second, before you widened the hit as you looked at Nagi again and shook your head lots of times while making an explanation in a sign language.

Nagi looks at you for a bit before returning back to his teammates clearly ignoring your demure. Oh no. Looks like you gotta prepare yourself when you get back home..

RAWR RAWR 💥- BAROU SHOEI

" here- try this on." Barou who is lending his jacket to so you could be covered properly.

Barou who would blame the society who can't keep their eyes to themselves. Barou blames his own kind for not being able to keep their hands off someone who's uncomfortable with touching. He's mad for sure. He put his jacket securely around your waist before neatly settling it jacket's hands into a pretty bow.

It wasn't your fault and Barou knows that. Barou almost put up a fight with some guy on the street when the guy started hitting on you.

"...sorry" you mutter in a small voice as Barou leads you to sit on a bench.

"it's not your fault. Don't be sorry." Barou who's treating you carefully not wanting to upset you from what happened earlier. He felt like he was the one who should apologise to you for not being there.

"...i wanna go home.."

" mhm..got it. Want me to carry you? It's already late, no one is here so we can have the night for ourselves." Barou who softens his voice so you wouldn't be scared by him.

"...that would be nice..." He slowly reaches his hands before making it way to your back and under your thighs and lifts it up.

" do you want something along the way? There would be a convenience store nearby." You shook your head and Barou hummed in response. Barou who carries you as you slept peacefully under his care. Barou who would punch the guy that bothered you if he ever saw him again

[dumbgoondog]

Hi there! I was thinking of a weird scenario

How do you think the jjk men would react to their darling getting slapped by another man in front of them?? Like their darling got in a fight with someone and then boom they get hit in the face💀💀

Takeout Takedown(Part 1)

Cw/Tw - non specific discrimination, Violence, blood, and gore(Geto)

Ft. Gojo, Geto, Nanami, and Toji

GN!Reader, Short fic style, dating for about 5-6 months, reader isn’t helpless/it’s not specified, the first few paragraphs are the build up and context for everything else. Next up - Sukuna, Mahito, Choso, and Kenjaku

What was supposed to be a quick pick up was now an awful argument between you and whoever this guy was. You’d ordered food for pick up, coming from after some shopping with your man, he was waiting out front but here you were. The bag of getting cold food, blocked, by this Neanderthal of a man.

Why you might ask, why the hell was he blocking you? Because there’s no way this was your order, that’s clearly not your name either, and that’s too much food for someone like you. Was he fat shaming, assuming you’re poor, all of the above?

Then this guy has the audacity to after making his points continuously interrupt you every time you tried to say anything. “That’s my boyfriend’s na-“ and he starts talking about how this place doesn’t even have good food that it’s just full of posers who can’t appreciate real Japanese food. It takes everything in you to not laugh at that, because what the absolute fuck is he going on about?

So instead while he’s busy, yappin, you lean to reach around him for the bag. Besides your lover was probably getting curious what was taking so long and might come in! Rather than wanting a big fiasco in public you just grab it and are about to turn to go when.

SMACK.

SATORU GOJO

Your passenger Princess was wondering, what had to be taking so long? The app said it was ready for pickup, you’d been in there for almost 10 minutes now too! He’d already gone through the glove box and console so now with nothing else, Gojo would come wait with you!

He was half expecting that when he pushed those doors open you’d bump into him with the food, but not you having just been cracked across the face falling into a nearby table. His cursed energy cracked and spit like hot oil as he rushed to lift you up, your lip busted and nose bleeding. You’re pulled into his strong arms still having to blink coming back from shock.

Gojo on the other hand looks to the guy, takes his phone out and takes his photo. Dave or whatever his name is, tries to puff up his chest to not seem intimidated. Gojo however is just smiling, and tucks his phone away after snapping the pic with a laugh, “Dang, our food is all over the floor, guess I’ll order us some more yeah lovely? I’ll get your favorite!”

Dave scoffs, crossing his arms, and kicks one of the spilled boxes of food, “you must be the supposed boyfriend huh? Honestly really disgusting what this world is coming to, look at you two! Also you can’t take my photo without my consent that’s ille-“

“Zip it. You’re lucky I’m not handling you myself,” Gojo says, his voice smooth and even, “go ahead though, tell me how a photo is illegal versus you harassing and hitting someone.”

You look between the two swallowing, a hand touching at your tender lip and nose feeling the warm blood on your face. Gojo looks down to you with such a sorry look, you knew he’d be blaming himself for this for a while. Dave however doesn’t seem to know when to quit cause he starts marching forward to stick a hand to gojo’s chest- caught by infinity.

Gojo sighs, looking to the other man who’s so surprised his hand isn’t moving and his lip twitches annoyed. Then, Gojo starts walking forward, infinity pushing Dave back and holding him to the wall. Gojo keeps walking forward the pressure crushing Dave against the wall more and more, broken wheezes coming from his blubbering mouth.

“I like to think I’m pretty fair! I gave you a chance to run, told you off, and am letting the proper people handle you. All of this because they wanted to grab our food.” Gojo gives a laugh shaking his head brushing a hand through those beautiful white locks, “C’mmoooooon you’re not even worth my breath! What, you visiting to see a maid cafe? To go hound on Japanese teen girls like in your hentai? Get a life or die.”

Almost in a flash The world is squishing with reality bending, morphing like those bad Ai generated videos. Then you’re outside the doors to Gojo’s apartment, and he’s still carrying you. He looks down with such a big sad puppy dog look and starts kissing you all over whining, “my baaabbbyyyyy! Oohhh I’m so so sorryyy!!!! I promise that won’t ever happen again!”

SUGURU GETO

You know he doesn’t like leaving you alone where there are monkeys. You know he doesn’t like being left alone where there are monkeys. He’s a patient man, very patient, but only to a degree.

He moves pushes open the doors watching the initial crack to your face and then you start to fall. He’s there in an instant catching you, pulling you to him chest an arm wrapping around and hiding the offending man. He’s gently cupping your cheek offering such a sweet smile when the horrid sounds begin.

A sickening crunch, the scuttling of chitin against the floor and other surfaces, something like crunching into a juicy watermelon- the scream. Geto lifts you up, keeping an arm in way of your view of what was happening as he softly smiles asking, “My love, let’s just have Miguel or Larou make something hmm? Miguel just got an order in to make some ugali and beef wet fry. Then Larou is always looking to cook for us.”

You can see the blood starting to pool towards Geto’s feet, and a hand clawing at the tiles. The horrified shriek of the woman behind the counter as she runs into the back again, and the pained groans of the man. You felt sick to your stomach, your face hurts, but Geto still tried to hide the sight of his curses devouring the man.

You curl into his arms and he sighs rubbing your back kissing the top of your head, “There there, let’s get your face cleaned up hmm? Lover, I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

You both begin to move out, backs to the horror behind. You swallow, trying to calm yourself, you’ve seen the horror of being a sorcerer but still it gets you sometimes. Geto always is so sweet, you often forget that in the end he’s considered the worst jujustu terrorist for a reason…

KENTO NANAMI

He’s patient, calm, collected, and- okay he’s worried. Maybe he doesn’t show it often but he’s a bit clingy so when what should’ve been 5 minutes at most turned into a full 10 minutes he’s up.

He’s in that door looking like he’s not worried at all but the moment he sees you trying to catch yourself on the table after being hit? Another resounding CRACK with clattering echos in the restaurant. You jolt and jump up looking around just to see Nanami rolling his wrist and flexing his hand with a huff.

The guy who’d hit you, was now over the cashier counter knocked into the cups that were stacked by the coffee pots. Cups have fallen everywhere and he’s got a busted lip that’s already swollen and bruising hard. Nanami only has slightly red knuckles, he’s crouching, kneeling to you like a prince offering his hand, “Lover of mine, come here. We’re going to mine and I’m running you a bath. I’ll see if Shoko is available to heal you.”

You smile and take his hand, he’s pulling out a handkerchief and wiping at your face with such tenderness and concern. The guy behind the counter is fully knocked out, and girl working the register has no clue what to do other than sigh with defeat and grab a broom. Once standing Nanami takes out his wallet laying down a wad of bills apologizing, “sorry to have caused such a mess, I’m glad you’re alright miss.” With that you two leave.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

Toji is happy to wait in the car, have the hot food brought to him to be sat in his lap so he could snack on it as you drove them back to your place. Except, where were you, and where was the food? He wasn’t particularly paying attention to how long you’d taken but whatever.

He’s pulled down the mirror to pick at something in his teeth, when you open the door. “Heya babe, what took-“ he cuts himself off his brows pulling down when he sees the busted lip, the tears in your puffy eyes. He clicks his tongue and opens the door starting to get out, “one sec, be right back.”

His slippers slap against the pavement as he comes into the shop eyes lazily looking over the food scattered on the floor and the man who’d hit you talking off the ear of the girl behind the counter about how people can be so disrespectful these days to “culture”. He nods to himself looking about and walks slow to stand behind the guy, the girl’s eyes bugging out of her head seeing Toji and he gives her a charming smile. He leans forward putting a hand on the counter blocking on of the guys exits and starts to speak, “damn bud, you love hearin yourself talk huh? Hey sweetheart, this guy jus hit someone?”

The girl stutters while the guy turns around trying to shove Toji off and miserably failing. He’s just got his hands squeezing and shoving against Toji’s fat tits. Toji doesn’t even acknowledge him, still looking at the girl who finally nods.

“Aye atta girl, all I needed to know!” One swift motion, a crunch, a pathetic scream. You stare at the door hearing the scream only to see Toji walking out with a messy bag, he’s smiling at you so proud of himself. You sigh and start the car knowing you better get driving quick, he probably made that guy eat shit…

[theresattrpgforthat]

THEME: TTRPGs for Trans Rights in Ohio

This is a special rundown of some of the tabletop games found in the TTRPGs for Trans Rights - Ohio Bundle currently being offered on Itch.io! The offer ends on May 3rd, 2025.

Rebels of the Outlaw Wastes, by Nerdy Pup Games.

Play misfit outlaws fighting against the authoritarian Powers That Be in a hyper-saturated, film-grained, retro dystopia. Save the future with the power of friendship, whoopass, and explosions! Features sticker-based character advancement, effortless cinematic vehicle action, and player-driven Ride-or-Die system usings d4s, d6s, d8s, d10s, and d12s.

Rebels of the Outlaw Wastes is colorful, with art that pops off the page and plenty of ready-to-use scenarios to jump-start play as soon as you sit down at the table. Dive into a post-apocalypse full of young punks in a world you build yourself, with plenty of tools to help you create settlements, beasts, gear, and much much more. If you like car chases and vehicle stunts, this is probably a game for you, with purposefully-designed vehicle scenes written into the game.

Songbirds 3e, by snow.

"Moon's haunted."

Songbirds 3e is a tabletop roleplaying game about undeath, supernatural powers, and the blue dreams of the moon. In the game, you create a strange survivor of the world who was chosen (or cursed) by Death. Spirits aren't able to pass on to the afterlife and grow monstrous with each passing day. You know the songs to send them on. You have the abilities that help you find them. You are the canary in the coal mine.

Songbirds 3e has received a great amount of critical acclaim as a beautiful, mysterious, tantalizing game that blends eldritch fantasy dungeon crawls with pieces of sci-fi blended in. It's inspired by Into the Odd, Persona 5, Blades in the Dark, Red Giant, Disco Elysium, Fallout New Vegas, and much much more.

Sound Check, by Misha.grifka.

Sound Check is a game about being in a band. Rehearse, party, get interviewed and get intimate - but don't forget, it's all leading up to one thing: the Big Show. Each player will have their own musician with a unique playbook, but everyone works together to tell the story of an up-and-coming band, in any musical genre you like.

Running on the Firebrands system, Sound Check will explore the story of your band through a series of scenes, using trope-centred playbooks to build a character with strong beats and clear direction. This game has one of my favorite kinds of mechanics: a stress track that eventually brings you to an explosion, which is an action that adds narrative tension and conflict, such as making an enemy out of a friend, or having an emotional breakdown. If you want drama and heightened emotion, you want Sound Check.

Dinocar, by Dinoberry Jam.

Imagine a world almost entirely the same as our own, except someone's magical wish to meet the dinosaurs came true. But after the welcome party, what were they all to do? Well, they went on to have regular modern lives alongside our own; bills to pay, families to feed, jobs to work. Most unfortunately of all, though, they have cars to drive–and none of them are really any good at it.

That’s what happens when you’re a 12-foot tall reptile with big legs and tiny arms, it’s just really hard to fit into a compact economy-size sedan and even harder to operate the dang thing.

In Dinocar, you and as many friends as you can gather will work together to map out a snippet of that world. You’ll paint a map, draw landmarks, slap buildings into place, and take turns going on chaotic road trips and commutes. At the end of a game of Dinocar, you’ll have a story to tell and a wonderful map to either frame on the wall or stick to the fridge.

Dinocar feels fun & whimsical, and feels perfect for folks who don't like to get messy, as well as kids.

The Stone Flesh Gift, by ATypicalFaux.

A silhouette blocks the stars, darker than the space it drifts through. Several amber eyes encased in crystal peer out from the shadows. When dappled in light from the closest sun, the remnants of petroglyphs can be seen carved across its hull, hewn from a single black stone harder than steel. The ship has no comms, no transponder, just a pulsating thump within a membrane running through the stone like a vein of ore. A glistening docking umbilical gently sways as it’s pulled behind the vessel, stretching toward anything that approaches, looking to touch, to connect.

The Stone-Flesh Gift is a 40-page TTRPG module with a focus on exploration and body horror, to be played with the Mothership sci-fi horror RPG. The players will wade through the innards of a lost ceremonial offering, an ancient alien bio-engineering factory and living ship called The Gift, as they work to avoid its dangers, discover its secrets, and plug their brains directly into its organs to feel their thoughts.

This is the only item on this list that isn't a game in itself, but instead a supplement for a game - but if you like space horror, The Stone Flesh Gift is a title I've seen time and time again. It's great for folks who love body horror, and gritty stories of addiction and disease.

In Conclusion...

If any of these games look interesting to you, get them for a steal by picking up the TTRPGS for Trans Rights Bundle on Itch.io!

[lacydollette]

RECKLESS ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

pairing: bf!sam x fem!reader

warnings: angst, established relationship, sam being overprotective, fighting, lots of blaming each other, mentions of dean being in hell, some fluff, wc: 1.9k

You slipped out of the motel room as quietly as you could, not wanting to wake Sam. You had been driving for days, hunting a wendigo near the outskirts of Iowa. But the hunt wasn’t even the hardest part—it was the weight of everything else. Ever since Dean's deal, since he was dragged into Hell, Sam had been on edge, more protective than ever. And you could feel it creeping into every part of your lives.

You glanced at Sam one more time as he lay sprawled on the bed, finally catching up on some sleep. He deserved that. Still, you knew you needed more supplies. You were running low on salt, and in the need of a few essentials plus, you figured a little food wouldn't hurt.

The grocery store was only ten minutes away, so you grabbed the keys and your bag, telling yourself you’d be quick. On your way inside the store, you checked for your phone—"dang it", you cursed, you must've left it at the motel.

So you quickly breezed through the aisles, grabbing salt, herbs, and a few sandwiches and snacks for Sam. You loaded everything into the car and started heading back, happy to know you’d have Sam’s favorite food waiting for him.

But while you were on your way home, Sam was already panicking, pacing around the motel room. He’d woken up to find you gone, no note, no message, just your phone lying there. His mind raced through every worst-case scenario. Every minute you were gone, his worry grew until it twisted into anger. Losing so many people did that to a person, and Sam had lost more than enough.

He couldn’t loose you too.

When you finally walked in, expecting Sam to be asleep, you were met by the intense sight of him, eyes locked on you the second you opened the door, and tension radiating off him.

"Where the hell were you?" Sam's voice was filled with frustration and disappointment. "I... I went to grab some salt from the market. We were almost out," you answered, confused by his reaction. "Why? What's the matter?"

Sam rubbed over his face in frustration, walking toward you. His eyes scanned you from head to toe, as if ensuring you were in one piece. Even though you were back now, his heart was still racing. "Heck y/n, I woke up and you were just gone. Do you know what that feels like after everything? I thought something bad had happened to you." His voice was shaking with distress.

"I was literally gone for half an hour! I thought you'd be asleep. I didn't want to wake you," you explained, fumbling with your words. "I wanted to be quick in case we needed the salt. It took me longer because there was this huge crash on the highway—"

"Wow, that's a perfect excuse." He cut in. "And you didn't think of a way to call me? Let me know you'd be gone longer? No, no... the only thing on your mind was getting some damn salt." His words stung, more than you expected. "You need to calm down." you replied, trying to pull yourself together. Was he really so distrustful? "I know I should've told you before leaving, but look at me—I'm fine. Everything's fine."

Sam ran a hand through his hair, rolling his eyes. "Goddamn it, I don't care if you're fine right now. It's the principle, y/n. You do shit without thinking, and I can't stand it." He took a deep breath, trying to control his anger. "There are so many things that could've happened to you out there. How can you be so careless?"

That hit a nerve, and your frustration bubbled over. "Oh, so you think I can't protect myself? After everything we've been through—after all the times I've saved you and Dean—you think I can't handle something as simple as a grocery run?"

Sam's face darkened. "This isn't about your skills. I know you're a good hunter. But you're reckless, y/n. You don't understand what it's like to see someone you love get torn away from you because of one mistake, one slip-up. And then to wake up and think it's happening again..." His voice broke, some vulnerability showing.

You softened slightly, realizing how deep Sam's fear went. But you weren't going to let him accuse you of being reckless. "I do understand, Sam. I know how much losing Dean broke you. But I'm not him. I'm not going to disappear, but you also can't suffocate me because of it."

"I'm not trying to suffocate you. Fuck, you really don't get it, do you?" Sam's voice rang in your ears, and for a second, he just looked at you with disappointment in his eyes. "Just forget it y/n."

The sudden intensity of his words, the way he yelled, startled you. Sam wasn't the type to lose his temper like this—not with you. Sure, you two had your disagreements, but this was different. He was on edge, and you could tell that this wasn't just about the salt. It was about everything that had been weighing on him since losing Dean.

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat, seeing his fists clench like that scared you, so the only thing you could do right now was walk away. Your voice was quieter now, the fight draining you. "I'll take a walk, clear my head."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you turned to leave the room. The last thing you wanted was to fight with Sam, especially not like this. But before you could reach the door, you felt his hand gently grasp your arm, pulling you back.

"Wait." His voice was softer now, the anger replaced by guilt. Sam pulled you close, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as if letting go would somehow mean losing you again. You relaxed into him, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. The warmth of his arms and the sound of his breathing helped calm you both down.

For a while, neither of you spoke. It was as if both of you needed that quiet, the space to breathe and let the tension resolve. And after a few moments, you pulled back just enough to look up at him. His eyes were softer now, and you could see he felt bad for snapping.

"You know," you said quietly, "I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to worry about losing me every time I step out the door. But you also have to let me breathe, Sam."

Sam let out a long sigh, his hand moving to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "I know," he murmured, though his voice still carried the weight of doubt. "I just... after Dean, I've been going nuts. Every hunt, every day, I'm constantly thinking about what could go wrong, what I could lose next. It's like I can't shut it off."

You reached up, cupping his face with both hands, your thumbs brushing gently along the stubble on his jaw. "Sam, I understand. I really do. But you can't live like this—constantly on high alert, constantly afraid. It's not fair to you. And it's not fair to us."

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment, savoring the comfort of your hands on his skin. "I don't know how to stop," he admitted quietly.

"I think it's always going to be there," you said softly. "The fear. But you don't have to let it control you." You paused, searching his face for a moment before continuing. "I'm strong, Sam. I know how to handle myself. And I promise you, if I ever feel like I'm all up in my head, you'll be the first person I call. But you have to trust me. Can you do that?"

Sam opened his eyes, looking down at you, and for the first time that night, you saw a flicker of relief in his expression. He nodded, though you could tell it wasn't easy for him. "I can try," he said, his voice a little stronger now. "I'll try."

"That's all I'm asking," you whispered, giving him a small, reassuring smile. You stayed there in his arms, the tension easing itself. Finally, Sam spoke again, his tone lighter but still a hint of guilt in it. "I guess I owe you for getting the salt." You chuckled softly, leaning your head back against his chest. "Yeah, you do. I went through a lot of trouble for that salt."

"Next time, maybe wake me up before you leave," he said, a small smile on his lips, “Or at least don't forget your phone."

"Deal," you agreed with a playful grin. "No more disappearing acts. But you have to promise me something, too." His brows furrowed slightly, "What's that?" he asked. "You have to promise to stop worrying so much. At least a little. You're going to give yourself a heart attack at this rate."

Sam chuckled, the sound low and warm in his chest. "I'll do my best," he promised, “but no guarantees.” You smiled, reaching up to kiss him gently. "I'll take it." Sam kissed you back, slow and soft. When he pulled away, there was a warmth in his eyes, a quiet appreciation for the way you understood him, even when he didn't always know how to explain himself.

"Come on," you said, tugging him toward the table. "I got your favorite sandwiches, you need to eat." Sam hesitated for a moment, glancing at the filled grocery bags. But then he let out a sigh and nodded, he definitely needed these sandwiches now.

"Thank you, baby." He mumbled, pressing a kiss to your forehead before grabbing the plastic bags and putting everything away. The room still felt heavy with the weight of what you were both going through, but at least you were in it together. You were safe. He was safe. And for now, everything was okay.

kinda need to fight with Sam just for him to be all soft and cutesy with me after and make up..

feedback and requests are greatly appreciated !!

tags: @gibson-g1rl @nuemanfilms @beausling @angelicjackles @sammyluvr @samwinchesterswifu @sampilled @seasons-of-death @starkeysprincess @rubyvhs @deansenvy @ribbonprincess @mxltifxnd0m

[dreamjoymemoir]

i am absolutely enamoured with cipher's eyes . . . how do you think cipher would react to a gn!reader showering her in praise ? both for her looks and for her personality . . . i also wanted to say i love and admire your scenarios so much ! ♡ thank you for posting them ! ^^

thank you very much, that means a lot to me ^^ here you go!!

-i think she soaks up praise like a plant doing photosynthesis. yesss tell her how beautiful she is and how she's the best kitty in the world! it'll make her giggle and absolutely blow up her ego. praise her while she's draped herself over your lap and demanding your full attention. she knows she's pretty dang cute, but it's always better to hear it from her favorite person.

-she does get a little flustered by such open admiration by you, knowing that you mean it very much and you love her so deeply. looking at herself in the mirror, she can't forget the memory of you cooing over her pretty blue eyes or stroking her face, telling her that she's so talented and amazing. that such love is possible for her is like a dream she doesn't want to wake up from. she doesn't know what she did to deserve this from you but she's not complaining.

-she probably needs it tbh i think she's a person who likes verbal affirmation that you love her and want her around. even if it's evident by your actions it's nice to be reminded! and it helps counter any negative feelings she might have about herself. no matter what kind of mood she's in, a kind word from you reminds her that things are pretty good in her life! especially when it's cold and rainy outside and she wants to be spoiled a little.

[yan-randomfandom]

i love your writings sm!! It's literally so good i keep coming back to see if you've updated udgshsj 😔😔 💖💖

This might be kinda a weird idea but I want to share this idea of yandere robot ford &/or stanley-

Here's a small drabble

So so reader's like a researcher/mechanic or smth similar to that, and one day they found this strange robot their backbyard and they see that the robot's conditions are not too damaged and it look like its intended to look like a human, reader became intrigued so they took it back inside and decided to repair it. They saw that the robot's label spelling out "ST4NF0R5/ST4NL33". it took days for them to try reactive the robot.. one night reader slept on their desk, and suddenly light appears on the robot's eyes and as he scanned the environment, his eyes landed on your sleeping figure.

i'd love to see your interpretation of this if it isn't too weird !!! Can be HC's or small scenario, preferably romantic but it's up to you!! 🥹🥹

Tysm for your time i hope you have a great day!! 💗

p.s can i be 🪴 anon?

Yandere!Robot!Pines x GN!Reader

a/n: thank you 🪴 anon!! i love the lil robot idea you have, very interesting 👀 I also decided to continue your drabble, which is super well-written btw 😭

Also we won't have a specific twin here, but he'll be called Stan. The first syllable Reader nicknames for. But you can imagine any Stan!

🤖 ;

You wave your hand repeatedly in front of the robot's face.

No response. How strange.

The reports indicated recent activity. His motherboard and circuits were slightly warm, which was unusual for decommissioned robots, and some motors even seemed out of place.

You were supposed to run tests today to see if the robot was still functioning, but it seems that it was ahead of itself.

It didn't make anything less confusing, though. Did it turn on while you were sleeping? Why isn't it reacting now?

With a defeated sigh, you lean back in your chair, loosely chalking the situation up to a faulty powerhouse. Guess you're just too good at fixing stuff. You'll have to observe it more later.

For now, you should really eat breakfast—you haven't eaten anything since yesterday. A bit too fixated on the robot you found.

You placed its cracked glasses back on, your eyes lingering over him.

No further signs of movement; he remained still. You're keeping an eye on this one, because right now, you're slightly paranoid he might explode on you.

Oh, well. There's plenty of time.

You headed to the kitchen and grabbed your usual jar, your fingers wrapping around the lid.

A grunt left your lips. A bit tighter than what you're used to.

You tried to open it again, this time having your hand underneath your shirt.

Dang.

Suddenly, the jar was taken from you and, with ease, got popped open by a large hand.

Your jaw dropped.

The robot you had been fixing for the last couple days stood in front of you—no support, and no external control.

Stan placed the jar on your counter, his mechanical eyes locking onto yours. His stare felt almost reserved, calculating.

You merely stood there in disbelief for the next few seconds.

📝 —

"This is amazing! I didn't think you'd be active so soon," you rambled, scrambling around the room for your notebook. "Just give me a moment. Where did I put that darn thing..."

Stan quietly watched you. His eyes tracked your every movement, never leaving you for a second.

"Found it!" you chirped, holding the notebook triumphantly in one hand. You walked over to the robot, gesturing toward the chair behind him.

"Please, take a seat! You might not be, uh, oof—"

Instead, you found yourself gently pushed down into the chair. He looked down at you, his gaze lingering, before stepping away. That was an act of service, you noted. You cleared your throat.

"...And that brings me to my first question!" You uncapped your pen, positioning the tip on your notebook.

"What is your purpose?"

Stan paused, seemingly processing your words. You'd never actually heard him speak before so you're a little on the edge of your seat.

"...As an artificial intelligence," he started. You almost clicked your tongue at his voice. It was gruff, perhaps a feature, but either way, you could tell it lacked a stable voicebox.

"I provide day-to-day assistance and companionship," he continued, blinking robotically. Stan didn't say anything more after that.

"A companion, huh," you hummed, jotting down your newfound discoveries.

You assumed that his creator must have been incredibly lonely if they had to resort to building robots. Not that you're judging them; after all, you understood the feeling of being an outcast from society. If you had to dig deeper into Stan's appearance, his design looked oddly specific. Maybe he was based on a real person—?

"You are not my creator."

Your hand stopped writing.

"...Oh, shoot," you gasped, standing from your chair. "You're right. I haven't even introduced myself!"

He stared down at you, his height suddenly feeling like it was looming over you. You swallowed the lump of your throat before continuing.

"I'm—"

"You are not my creator," he repeated. "But you fixed me. Why?"

"Well... I—"

Stan purred within his robotic body. "I suppose it doesn't matter. My creator dismantled me, and I must make sure you don't do the same."

His large hands gripped you by your sides. You panicked, your heart rate increasing. He must have noticed.

"Do not worry. I am merely fulfilling my purpose."

bonus draft:

You grinned, letting Stan take your laundry basket.

"Aw, geez, I had it," you snickered, crossing your arms. You watched him put the clothes one by one for drying.

"It is more efficient this way," he replied as he continued to his task.

this was supposed to be longer but yeeaaahh

[sizzlingstarfishballoon]

Ice Cream with Sebek (TWST)

What were you? Crazy? He was the loudest in every room he has ever walked into in his life. Not everyone can make such a disastrous claim. So why were your thoughts so centered around him?

You looked outside to the little collection of gray clouds that threatened to spill over the campus grounds. Shit. This wasn’t gonna work, not if it rained all over your plans. You started to rethink backup plans, indoor activities, but your thoughts still centered around that one, illustrious item that you wanted to try out with Sebek. Ice-cream.

You had ice cream in your world, and you heard it was here too. But would it be the same as it was before? Could they ever compare to that tiny family-run ice-cream shop that knew you by name, face, and demeanor?

And why Sebek? Why him of all the… special people at Night Raven College? You weren’t a particularly sociable person, but Sebek wouldn’t shut up, so you wouldn’t have to talk. That would have been nice. Totally nice, so why did your heart refuse to calm down?

“Prefect, Yo, the class ended.”

You whip your head around from the window to your friend Ace. He was bored, half standing from his seat with impatience. You quickly followed his lead and picked up all your school materials from the desk and shoved them deep into your backpack, doing a mini-sprint to the hallway. From there, you walked the halls of your new home and wondered how long it would take to get back. Dark and dingy, those were the walls of this new home; while the people here did not physically match that description, their personalities could be argued for.

Walking by, you could see the Disomia crew standing at the far corner of a hallway. Sebek was yelling as always, and Malleus looking half tired and bored at whatever discussion was happening around him. Your gaze lingered on the mint green-haired boy. He was rude, you tell yourself, loud, obnoxious, oblivious, and horrible, horribly, horribly rude.

You bumped straight into the muscular back of one of your classmates, Leona. He gave you an irked look and told you to “watch it, herbivore!” before disappearing around the corner.

“What’s up with you, man?” Ace grumbles.

“Oh, nothing, nothing at all, totes.”

“Uh huh, you're acting like a weirdooo”

You turned your head back to the disomia crew, seemed like nobody saw that awkward encounter, you were safe, your pride stayed teetering on the edge of a precipice another day. DING DONG DANG DING

The school day finally ended, and you mustered up all the courage you didn’t have to move your way towards Sebek. Ice-cream. That was the only thought that ran through your brain. Ace stopped you mid-way to ask you what you were doing.

“I’m going to ask Sebek to go and eat ice cream with me.”

The face Ace made was indescribable, but it was safe to say it was not an approving one.

You shook him off, and he looked on with the face of a grieving widow losing her husband at war. You could feel a mock salute directed at you, but you decided not to give him the pleasure of looking at it.

He was guarding Malleus, awake and at the ready for any of the impossible scenarios that weren’t gonna happen. You approached, feeling very unsure. But soon you were face-to-face.

You gulped; he did have quite a charm. His features were angular and straight, his hair a controlled mess. You couldn’t get over his eyes. Bright and shining, the words that came out of your mouth felt important. Something about him made you nervous about these words. It was like the beginning of a very long book that was about to be written.

“Yo, would you like to ummmm get ice-cream with me, like, right now?”

Kill me, someone, some god, prove that you're good and kill me.

He stared at you, and it seemed like he was staring at the memory of your sentence.

In a very loud and boisterous voice, he started to explain that as a guard, he could not abandon his post. “AND NOT ONLY THAT I DO NOT MINGLE WITH CONVIVING AND INFERIOR HUMANS FOR SOMETHING AS SIMPLE, AS UNCOMPLEX, AS BENIGN AS- “

Malleus put a hand around his shoulder, quieting the boy down. His eyes were unreadable, you shifted a bit.

“You should get ice cream Sebek.”

“BUT MALLEUS-“

“Silver and Lillia will be around me, go, and do not fight me on this.”

Sebek turned from his liege to you, his pink lips turned slightly downward before moving from Malleus' side to yours. He committed to a very low, very respectful bow to Malleus before forcefully turning your shoulder around and marching at an unmatchable pace toward the school doors.

You went flying through the stairs and soon through the cement path, and he seemed to barrel down the crowd. You asked him to slow down for a while, which he responded to by calling you whiny and claiming that he wanted to be done with this as soon as possible. He needed to get back to his liege.

The weather was still the same, and even threatened to spill a few times, but it stayed content in the corner of your vision, waiting.

Together, you had walked to the bright ice-cream parlor near campus. This whole time, the sound of clamoring feet and heavy breath filled the air, but with the lack of sound came an uncomfortable silence. This wasn’t what you were counting on. You hoped that he would talk his way through this excursion. The tension made your heart slow to an uncomfortable, almost hurtful pace until you asked him about his day.

He talked about how blessed he was to see Malleus on the ice-cream line, the entire wait passed quickly, and with customers crying for their ears.

When you got to the cashier, you ordered your favorite flavor of ice cream. You looked to him, he seemed like the type of person to get mint ice cream. But in a very quiet voice, he asked for a strawberry. Your smile widened, and he saw. He loudly defended his choice of ice cream right before one of the servers handed him the cone, trying to cover his ears from the screeching sound.

Sebek wanted to eat it on his way back, to get back to Malleus. But when he turned for the door, the rain had started to fall. This is what the clouds were waiting for. I guess you both had no other option but to sit down in the parlor to eat the ice cream. Sebek had a deep frown on his face. Upset at having to sit there while his liege was all alone (he wasn’t). But a conversation has started rolling, and you both find yourself content. Sebek spoke about almost anything that came to his mind as you peacefully enjoyed hearing someone talk, and relaxing in the back of the comfy parlor chair.

Sebek had finally entered the dorm. The rain stopped long ago, but he didn’t notice it before he got a text from Silver telling him he was going to be late for dinner. When he received that text, he called you a conniving human who wanted to ruin his connection to his fellow Disomia classmates and went running.

Moving from one large empty hall to another, he was spooked by Lilia.

“How’d the ice-cream go?”

“As far as humans are they are acceptable.”

Lilia smiled and planted his feet on the floor.

“My my, a human Sebek finds acceptable? Who could have guessed?”

“I simply mean their company is not appalling.”

He planned to head to his room without being seen to shoot you a text about today. But Lilia stood in the way before his dorm door, before letting him pass through. After all, it’s not every day Sebek blushes so pink!

(How'd I do? Feedback very much appreciated)

[kiruamon]

A Villain's Light AU - What if...

... Eclipse had found his little boy, when Snowcone had been even younger? Like just a tiny baby:

His first reaction would be something between confusion and panic. His processors running so wild that his internal fans could be heard loud and clearly. How can something be that tiny? So vulnerable? There wouldn't have been even a split second to be in denial that he might care for the life of an organic being in this very moment. But dang would his hands have trembled when he picked up the little fox cub, somewhat scared of being too rough with this tiny squeaking thing in his hands. Feeling scared - for the first time in a very long while - ... that it might die on him if he didn't do something. He would have been way more faster in a protective and caring mode and trying to nuture the little fox while putting his projects aside for a good while.

The Bite of You're-My-Papa-Now:

Happy proud dad mode would have been unlocked for sure:

Yeah, just a fun What-if-scenario. Back to reality though: Things in the original timeline where a tad more sober and slow paced when Eclipse found Snowcone as a pub. He isn't too proud of his initial thoughts back then (not at all). To have felt indifferent at the sight of Snowcone's mother. Just a dead fox killed by another animal, nothing more to it then that, right? (He still feels guilty about that one.) And the little cub bound to die as well when being left alone. It's just the way nature is. An end that every organic being faces at some point. Why bother if it happens sooner rather than later? "If it has to die anyway, then why not take it with me? It can be a test subject. At least there would be an use to it's life then." Like this Eclipse had thought about the situation, even if at the same time the words had felt a bit hollow. But that was still at a time were Eclipse had a more distorted view of himself, of who he had been shaped into and who he thought to be in his self-created role as a villain. A lot of pieces to himself still missing. Even to believe that there had been any kinds of positive emotions left in him seemed unthinkable to him. To this day, it makes him feel an odd mix of shame and disgust towards himself for the way he had treated his little boy during their first time together. Not that Eclipse really had done anything bad to him. He had made sure to make him a box with some blankets as a 'bed'. He got him some bowls with food and water - that one makes him still cringe in hindsight. And he even looked up what to feed a fox cub. His attachment hadn't started very big, but when Eclipse does something he usually sticks with doing his research thoroughly to make sure he is doing things right. And despite his original excuse, he never had shown a real interest in using Snowcone as a test subject. Honestly, after taking Snowcone in, Eclipse mused more over reasons why he couldn't use the fox cub as a test subject instead of looking for ways how to use him. He would tell himself things like:

"In his current state he is too fragile, I have to do some health checks first." "Results would be more beneficial when he's fully grown up. Right now, he is just too young for any serious testings." "I have more important projects to work on right now. There is no time to bother to come up with a test series. Maybe later, when there is nothing better to do." "Still no time, I'll think about something another day."

In aftersight, his words since the begin might have just been an excuse. An half-hearted way to reason why to take the cub with him instead of leaving it as he never had any real need for a test subject in the first place. His henchmen had probably a better understanding for Eclipse's actions than he himself. They knew since a long time, that their boss had a tendency to take abandoned and lost things with him. To give them a place to stay or to make them whole until they were ready to leave on their own. After all, it was how most of them had found their way under his protective wings.

[merbear25]

OP men but they have an S/O who is exactly one inch taller than them and makes TOO many short jokes

Oh my goodness, I hope you find this as funny as I did. These little guys being teased is something we need more of. Thank you for sending this in. 💜💜

CW: SFW, gn!reader, headcanons/scenarios, playful teasing, some humor

Teasing OP men for being “short”

Teases you back: Ace, Killer, Usopp, Luffy, Zoro, Rosinante

Oh? So you wanted to joke about them being shorter than you? That was fine with them, really because two could play at that game. Telling you to watch your head when entering rooms, calling you their tall king/queen to make you blush, and of course, you were not immuned from being asked how the weather was.

Tomato red: Rosinante, Koby, Sanji

Whether it was from embarrassment or just being flustered, their cheeks burned whenever you made your jokes. They knew you were just playing around but dang! The amount of material you had to roast them on their height - which may they remind you was a one inch difference - was both impressive and awful.

Argues about it: Law, Kid, Katakuri, Buggy, Caesar

They were not SHORT. You knew that surly! They got so butthurt being called your short king and asking if they needed you to get something from the top shelf. “You’re only one inch taller! I can get it myself!” Then they proceed to curse as the thing they wanted was just slightly out of reach.

Huffs and puffs: Buggy, Kid, Caesar

You thought you were funny, huh? Teasing them about how much shorter they were and blah, blah, blah. Even though they may have humored you and your jokes at the beginning, now you were just bullying them. They weren’t short, don’t be ridiculous! And no, they weren’t pouting in the corner after being called a short king.

Visibly irritated: Crocodile, Katakuri, Smoker, Zoro, Doflamingo

They rolled their eyes at the first few jokes. Heck, they probably even threw you a bone by giving you a laugh or two out of pity. But for whatever reason, you just would not let up. They thought that giving you the silent treatment would work, and yet you kept coming back for more—with new material at that! You were lucky they loved you.

[anim-ttrpgs]

The Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy October 17th Beta update has launched today on itch.io for free!

Happy Halloween! We pulled out all the stops just to get the update out in time for you to prep and play it for your group’s Halloween game! The free adventure module that comes with it, “Horror Harry’s Haunted House”, takes place on Halloween after all! In it, your investigators will solve a “murder mystery” in a charmingly spooky haunted house escape room. It serves as a sort of investigation and survival training ground for you and your PCs to learn the ropes before jumping into more Call-of-Cthulhu-esque adventures where death is around every corner. (You can even get two more adventure modules over on our patreon)

Download the new rulebook here on itch.io! Even if you download it for free, just checking it out, talking about it, reblogging this post, etc. helps us out immensely. We are a diverse, largely queer team setting out to slay a dragon, we’ve already been working on this for four years, and we need all the community support we can get!

If you’re wondering what Eureka even is, watch this trailer, or read this post if you don't wanna watch a video.

If you’ve ever tried to run a murder mystery in D&D, what you really needed was Eureka.

If you’re coming from the August beta release, which I assume you are, lemme tell you that a lot has been improved. I’ll go over some of the highlights, and post the full changelog under the cut. It’s still free, but if you could throw a bit of money out way on the itchio page, even if you’ve paid before, that would be a massive, massive help. We’re actually a bit over budget even with the relative success of the Kickstarter, plus for one of us this is their primary source of income.

Trait Overhaul

There’s a few new Traits, and nearly every single existing Trait has been redone to make them better and/or more interesting. Each Trait will now have an even more significant effect on your gameplay experience.

Combat Overhaul + World's Best Grappling Rules

Combat in Eureka is now better than ever, and it was already really good - plus, now you can actually comprehend the dang rules! The previous combat rules, I admit, were a dense and confusing slog to read through, even if they worked really well once you understood them. Now, thanks to our editor, you can understand them! Instead of being split across four chapters, it’s now just two chapters. One chapter explains weapons and is mostly just for stat reference, and the other chapter is focused on telling you everything your character can do during “dangerous situations,” which are not just combat, but really just any kind of scenario where a character can get hurt. As a special highlight to the combat overhaul, Eureka now boasts the first ever set of grappling rules that are viable, realistic, and fun to employ at the table! I’m serious when I say I have never seen them done like this before, and think they offer an actual leap forward in something that TTRPGs have struggled with since early editions of D&D! I also put a lot of my own judo and other martial arts experience to work here.

Monster Overhaul

A lot of what I said about the pre-overhaul combat sections of the rulebooks were also true of the monster PC rules. They were dense, hard to reference, and disorganized. Well not anymore! All six playable monsters in Eureka have been completely rewritten using the skills I have gained as a game designer since first writing them, and, like the regular Traits, they have all been at the very least tweaked to be more interesting and have a greater effect on gameplay, and some have been changed entirely with all new subsystems! Witches brew potions now, fairies actually have stuff to do with the names they collect, and more! Plus, speaking of Traits, every monster can have more regular Traits now, to really help flesh out their personality!

CHANGE LOG 

Copy-editing Progress: Thoroughly copy-edited up to p. 302. Half-ass copy-edited up to p. 322.

WHOLE BOOK

Stuck most of the $42+ kickstarter backer submission info into the very back of the book just to get it out of our email inbox and to allow the whole team to be able to more easily see it and work with it. Going to be doing more to integrate this stuff into the actual rulebook soon. 

Changed the headings to hopefully be more legible. Please give us feedback on what you think of this change.

CHAPTER 1

Changed the limitations on how Comfort is used to restore investigator Composure. 

Fixed a typo in the investigation example of play. 

Made it so that Composure rolls for fears in the “Ridiculous” category don’t even always need to be rolled when these things are encountered. 

Moved Character Health and Status, Grievous Wounds, Healing, and Healing Example sections to Chapter 1. 

Changed Partial Incapacitation to give -2 modifiers instead of -1. 

Overhauled the rules for injuries, incapacitation, and grievous wounds completely. A ton of it is changed. 

Added codified rules for medical facilities and what to do in the case of investigator death. 

Added “The Creeps” optional rule. 

Tweak to When is the Party “Split” section regarding how long to go before jumping between groups.

Lots of new art has been added.

Tweaks to Be Prepared to Lose section.

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Additions to the What is Eureka For section

Changed comforting factors and exacerbating factors for Composure rolls to be +/-2 instead of +/-1 so they make a real difference.

New snoop

Changed the font of the section headings in the Ticking Clock section. Let us know what you think of these headings compared to the other headings, because we are considering changing all the headings to be like this.  

Better clarified some stuff about how Ticks work when an adventure starts at some random time of day.

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More art has been added

Made travel take more time and matter more

CHAPTER 2

Changed the CQC skill to Close Combat, as this is more clear and obvious what that means at a glance

Made lots of copy-editing progress. Many paragraphs are shorter and convey the rules more clearly. 

Changed the way the Burnout Trait works. It now causes the investigator to lose flat Composure each day rather than affecting their Composure rolls. 

Changed the Death Wish Trait to not suck.

Changed the Elementary! Trait to use Visual Calculus instead of Social Cues.

Changed Go With Your Gut Trait to not suck. 

Added that wallets and like basic clothing and stuff have a WP cost of 0

Added glasses to item list

Added rope to item list

Added hand warmers to item list

Changed Arithmomania trait to where it only gives a +1 base bonus to Paperwork, and the bonus for having a lower Ignorance of Quantity Tiers of Fear rating is more investigation points. 

Changed Femme Fatale to add a +1 Seduce bonus instead of +2. 

Totally redid the Hardy Trait. 

Added -1 modifier to I’m Okay You’re Okay Trait

Redid the Just Built Different Trait. Now it allows a character “no sell” an incoming Superficial Damage attack once per Scene, reducing the damage to 0, among a few other things. 

Added Renaissance Man Trait. 

Removed Love Me Trait. Might try to reword it another time, but it was too similar to too many other traits and wasn't very interesting. 

Completely reworked Lover Trait. 

Many new snoops have been added.

Changed the Mad Genius trait to be called Lovecraft Protagonist and changed what it does. 

Removed the investigation point cap on Man of Action Trait. Also changed the name to Ask Questions Later. 

Changed My Glasses Trait to only provide bonuses to Knowledge Skill Investigative Rolls. 

Changed Nightstalker Trait so that it provides a bonus to all Interpersonal Rolls while trespassing 

Changed None of My Business Trait to suck less.

Changed Not Finished Yet Trait to suck less.

Changed Showboater Trait to suck less.

Changed Skeptic Trait to suck less.

Smalls is now a real Trait instead of just a joke Trait. 

Removed the +1 Bonus from the Unpredictable Trait.

Changed Wicked Trait to not suck. 

Changed Wizened Trait to suck less. 

Woo-Woo Trait no-longer based on Blacked Out Skill. 

Moved “Deadly Combat, Permanent Consequences” here and changed the title to “Disabilities are Disabling”

Changed Basic Physical Therapy on the Wealth Point Item List from 3WP to 2WP. 

Added new section “People Change”

Made Blissfully Ignorant trait immune to “The Creeps.”

Made the Technically… Trait have a +2 bonus instead of +1.

Updated the Hard Boiled Trait to work with the new way that injuries and incapacitation works.

Moved the Hardened Hearts snoop to be the Wicked snoop instead. 

Changed “Empath” Trait to be “Empathetic” instead. 

Made “Did You Know…” a better and more usable Trait

Made Hard Under Pressure a better and more usable Trait.

Changed how the WP cost of an item affects the modifier for rolling for it in-adventure. The modifier is now half the WP cost rounded down. 

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Gave a proper name to the Wealth modifier attached to certain homes and vehicles, it is now called the Property Modifier(PM).

Lowered the price of firearm ammunition by 1WP

Lowered the price of desktop computers by 1WP

Lowered the price of cameras by 1WP

Combined various hand tools into one entry on the item lists and moved them to Misc.

Made hotels something that is prepaid in WP similar to food budget. 

Made Large Apartment less expensive and Tiny Apartment more expensive

Moved Baseball Bat and Axe out of Weapons and into Misc. 

Changed how Food Budget works.

Removed Net Skill Limit mechanic entirely

Edit to the duration of the bonuses for Femme Fatale

Changed Ninja Trait to a +2 bonus instead of +1

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Made “Sleep On It” Trait give 1D6-1 investigation points, and still give Composure.

Added “Real Capybara Hours.” Sometimes jokes are just for us.

Added animals to item lists

CHAPTER 3

Moved the section “Deadly Combat, Permanent Consequences” into chapter 2. 

More art has been added.

Moved Character Health and Status, Grievous Wounds, Healing, and Healing Example sections to Chapter 1. 

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Changed the name of Chapter 3 to “Dangerous Situations.” We are planning to put all the combat and other dangerous stuff into one chapter called “Dangerous Situations” and merge combat, chases, etc. into one thing rather than splitting it up and having it in a bunch of different chapters.

Made it so that the Speed mechanic works with Theater of the Mind as well, and removed that other awkward mechanic with rolling Athletics for how many turns it takes for a character to cross a large distance. 

Complete restructure of the way the mechanics for movement and action are explained, as well as defining things as both Movements and Actions. 

Created a Chapter 2.5. In the future when we are ready to shift the chapter numbers, Chapter 2.5 will become the new Chapter 3 and the current Chapter 3 will become Chapter 4. Chapter 2.5 currently houses the statistics of weapons and other combat items. The plan is that a first-time reader will read the weapon statistics in Chapter 2.5 before they read the combat rules in Chapter 3, which will inform the way they understand Chapter 3. 

Changed damage value and special attributes of pepper spray. 

Made brass knuckles do 1 penetrative damage. 

Made stun guns do 2 superficial damage.

Made it so that bulletproof vests do protect against 1-damage weapons. 

Moved and rearranged like everything from chapters 3-6. 

Close range bonus for guns is now +2 instead of +1

Simplified Stopping Power rules (the actual way it works has not changed, we just rewrote it so that it gives the same mechanics in like a tenth of the word count)

Separated open-faced helmets and full-face helmets, and made it so that wearing a helmet along with body armor gives a -1 penalty to incoming attack rolls. 

“Single Load” is now called “Internal Magazines”

Shotguns at extremely close range now have similar stopping power to a rifle, but at 5-10 yards they still have their double stopping power. 

Changed how Rate of Fire works for guns. Just making it a number instead of distinct actions. 

Made it so that Quick Cycling affects basically all guns except automatics, meaning characters with high Firearms skill can now fire semi-automatic pistols at 3 bullets per Action.

Streamlined Stabilization. It is no-longer a roll and instead a penalty that worsens the more bullets are being fired at once. 

Made Bipods give +2 Contextual bonus instead of +1 to single stationary targets.

Changed Reactions and made them more broadly applicable and usable as a rule.

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Overhauled Grabs, Throws, Holds, and Escapes to make them a viable option in a lot more scenarios.

Defined “On the Ground” and made it its own section.

Made knock out blows and throws ignore Armor. Knock-out blows are still somewhat penalized by helmets.

Added A Real John Woo Film Optional Rule

More art has been added

Hastily updated the random chase obstacle tables for the new Movement/Action system.

Updated the example obstacles to be more in line with how we designed obstacles for the obstacle tables. 

Redid how Poison works. We meant to make it less convoluted but accidentally made it more granular instead. We did write it better so it will at least feel less convoluted. 

CHAPTER 4

Merged this chapter with chapter 3

CHAPTER 5

merged this chapter with chapter 3

CHAPTER 6

merged this chapter with chapter 3

CHAPTER 7

Added “Psychological Warfare” mechanic. 

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CHAPTER 8

The Blacked Out Skill has been changed in two major ways. First we made it more obvious that the Blacked Out Skill applies even to knowledge of the supernatural that is not necessarily true. And also rather than working the way that every other Knowledge skill works, the Blacked Out Skill now gives leads to where answers might be found rather than immediate concrete answers. 

THE GORGON IS FINISHED AND FULLY PLAYABLE!

Added that Alt. Witches have to make their supernatural ability composure rolls at +0 instead of +3. The +3 was a typo.

Started work on the complete monster overhaul.

Vampires have been completely rewritten. Most of their abilities and themes are the same, but the way the abilities work has been overhauled and improved in many cases, as well as now being formatted and structured in a sane and easily-referenceable way. 

More art has been added. 

Changed the +2 Contextual Close Combat bonus for the Werewolf Trait to a +1 Base Bonus

Wolfmen have been completely rewritten. Most of their abilities and themes are the same, but the way the abilities work has been overhauled and improved in many cases, as well as now being formatted and structured in a sane and easily-referenceable way. 

Fairytale Witch is currently being rewritten/overhauled. 

Changed Incredible Strength Mage Trait to have a +2 Close Combat bonus instead of +3.

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Clarified that gorgon blood does not heal gorgons.

Changed the way that monsters interact with Composure and their Tiers of Fear during the act of preying on other people. Instead of just ignoring it or having a bonus (i somehow left both of those conflicting rules in and no one told me), a relevant Composure roll is still made when a monster eats someone, but they do not lose Composure points from it even in the event of Partial Success or Failure. This keeps the narrative benefit of a Composure roll to show the monster’s emotional state, but without making hunting numerically pointless.

Finished the complete fairytale witch overhaul. 

Made the Close Combat bonus for superhuman strength be just +1 for the vast majority of instances. The only exception is wolfman forms. They get a higher Close Combat bonus because their transformations actually make them bigger and taller and this helps a lot in Close Combat.

Reduced Athletics bonus of Incredible Strength trait to +2. 

Merged the Alt. Witch with Mage, and made Mage a Misc. supernatural category instead of its own separate thing. This is going to be a really messy transition for chapter 8 so please bear with us. I am making a brief run though the chapter to clean up the biggest discrepancies this change creates, but I probably won’t get them all until the editor and I have time to actually go through and copy-edit it. 

“Mage” is now its own trait, and what were previously called “mage traits” are now called “mage powers”. Mages now have between 1 and 6 mage powers as part of their mage trait, with worse composure rolls the more powers they have. 

When they engage in their True Nature, monsters now have a chance to recoup some or all of the Composure they lost as a result of using their powers to hunt prey. 

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Fully overhauled the fairy rules. Just one more monster to overhaul! Woo! 

Changed the Curse of Slumber to take effect the next time the victim falls asleep rather than knocking them out spontaneously.

Overhauled the changeling rules to go along with the overhauled fairy rules. 

Clarified something about the vampire’s In Lizard Fashion ability, they wouldnt be able to use this to stop a speeding truck.

Removed the hard limit on how many people a wolfman could eat at once, and also added rules for what happens if they shift to a smaller form with people in their stomach. Made similar tweaks for vampires. 

More art has been added 

Fully overhauled the Thing from Beyond, and that completes the full monster overhaul. All Monsters now consist of a single Trait, rather than needing a pair of Traits. 

Gave vampires’ “wearing the evening” ability a maximum distance of 50 yards and also it is a Movement now 

Made a few more adjustments to some of the monster sections to bring them up to date with the new Movement/Action mechanics. 

Adjusted all instances of poison in the monster sections to account for the new poison rules.