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lavendertales · 2 years

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Hands to myself || Din Djarin x f!reader**

summary: you confess to Din that you like his hands, and he wants to see exactly how much.

word count: 3k

WARNINGS: hand kink obvs, dry humping, male masturbation, vaginal fingering, a dash of praise kink, cockwarming, sub!Din.

A/N: I’ve been meaning to post this for almost two weeks lmao so here we are. feedback is more than welcome 💕hope you enjoy, lovebugs!

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

gif: @themandaloriandaily

read on AO3

Throughout the months you’ve spent traveling with Din, many things have remained a mystery, such as his face and his upbringing. Yet you can say with absolute certainty that you knew each other way more intimately than those things.

You don’t need to hold all that information. You know what truly matters the most. You know him, as he is, the man behind the beskar; you know him as kind, sweet, a protector in times of need—and a damn good lover.

It could be argued that Din is easily the best lover you’ve ever had. The months you’ve spent on the ship alongside him carried no shortage of passion. An initial shy attraction blossomed into a near-fatal carnal desire, threatening to overpower you both. You learned in time his likes and dislikes; you knew how he felt and what sounds he’d make before you even touched him. Once he got more comfortable exploring your body in the dim light of the Crest, you studied each scar on his body, every navel and ridge, everything that was worth knowing.

Din himself was worth knowing.

So while you may not know his face or backstory—all curtesy of the Mandalorians’ beloved Creed—you shared an intimacy that stretched beyond definitions.

But there were still things left to discover between you two, things that you had yet to share.

Now, you’ve seen Din in various postures: hunting, carrying bounties back to the ship, expertly driving the Crest through outer space and even handling you in ways that made your head spin. It would’ve been impossible to witness all of that and not develop some sort of bizarre fondness for his hands. You’ve seen his hands ungloved hundreds of times, but you’ve never actually told him how appealing they are to you, how they exude tenderness and power, much like Din himself.

Instead, you resort to watching him carry the toolbox to the outer side of the Crest and mend its metallic wounds. He grabs each item with confidence and expertise, maneuvering them like they’re nothing. You remain in the background, once in a while gulping as your eyes focus on Din’s gloved hands. He’s too attentive to the task at hand to remark you studying him curiously in the background – and a little parched, too.

Even covered, his hands seem to be doing a little magic of their own; their movement, while concise and harsh in order to be able to fulfill the task, is undeniably enticing. Swiftly, your mind transports you elsewhere entirely, picturing those hands—free from the gloves’ leather confinements or not—moving up your body, fondling you and bringing you to pleasure that you’ve only ever experienced with him.

The sudden callout of your name makes your cheeks burn crimson. You’re slightly ashamed of having been daydreaming right next to him.

“Sorry,” you apologize in advance with a brief shake of your head.

“Are you okay?”

Uh-oh. His velvet, raspy voice paired with your prior wishful thinking isn’t aiding you much. You swallow harshly, the blob of saliva feeling like sand on paper.

Damn, what is it with you today? Down, girl.

“Mhm,” you murmur. “Just a little distracted.”

“By what?”

You falter. You figure you should at least let the man finish his job before starting the next one. You know that if you ask nicely enough, Din will help you out without hesitation.

And that thought makes you squirm with excitement, so much so that you feel heat pooling down below.

“A lot of thoughts,” you settle to respond. “Did you need anything?”

“Can you hand me the hammer, please?”

You comply, walking over to give him exactly what he wants. Then, you keep your eyes on his lucrative figure as he starts hammering a screw.

Good Gods, why am I torturing myself like this?

Once he’s done, Din slouches down, grabbing with both hands two loose chunks of metal and parts them. Your eyes widen, breaths a little shallower.

He has to be doing this on purpose. There’s just no way.

You keep watching him though; you keep watching him gently put all the chunks back and causing fast trepidations of your heart, completely unsuspecting and innocent. He catches your eyes eventually, and you sport a cute smile. You like to think he reciprocates. That’s Din: giving and caring. At least with you.

“That should hold us for a while,” he announces.

“Oh, good.”

Your voice dies down, and it’s only when Din stands back up in all of his broad beskar glory that you truly feel the effect of—well, him. You’ve become quite transparent to him, so there’s not much you can hide. You know that eventually he’ll put two and two together and figure out the reason behind your restless aura.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he checks, approaching you.

“Mhm.”

“You seem nervous.”

You keep on smiling, hoping to somehow disguise your nervousness. But you don’t really want to; you want everything that Din is willing to give to you, each taste he’ll allow you to have.

“Do I?” you ask, realizing you might be teasing him subconsciously.

He shrugs, tilting his helmet to the side, and something goes off inside you. That’s one of the few gestures that get you going on the spot; an additional touch to the right spot and you’ll be a wet bundle of nerves.

He doesn’t ask you anything. He usually doesn’t need to unless he’s making sure what he’s doing is appropriate, and in this moment, he can tell by the way you’re basically forcing your legs together that you’re in need of something else that sparks his interest as well.

“Tell me,” he coos. “What’s on your mind?”

You inhale, heart thrumming in your ears.

“I hope this won’t sound too weird, but… I was watching you work and it’s very—you’re very good at fixing things, and—”

Maker, you’re babbling. Get it together.

“Bottom line is,” you try to laugh it off, “I… like your hands.”

Din feels utterly taken aback. He’s never paid any attention to his physical traits, barely so since you came into his life. He often wonders if you wouldn’t prefer a younger body, one that’s not scarred or bruised or tired. But when he’s inside you, when he hears your sweet moans, when he hastily kneads the warm flesh of your body, there’s no more doubt in his mind that you want him just as he is. And that he wants you.

But hearing that you like his hands in particular is quite surprising. Especially since he spends all day covering them with those worn-out leathery gloves. The only time he takes them off is when he sleeps—or when they’re on you.

“My hands?” he asks, still bewildered at your confession.

You nod shyly.

“I’m sweaty from working, probably should wash off before—”

“I don’t mind. I like it dirty.”

“Hm.”

His hum is soft and husky, just like he is, and you quiver just thinking about him, vulnerable before you yet again. Everything about Din’s presence is intoxicating, and you wish you could put those words that cross your mind in coherent sentences so that he’ll know it, too.

He inches closer to your figure, and you just know his keen eyes scan you from head to toe through his visor. You don’t move; your body already aches and burns and itches in forbidden places that only he gets to see, and you want to enjoy every second of the thrilling moment.

“Go back inside,” he instructs.

And you obey without fault.

Your legs are guided solely by nervousness, an anticipation that allows you no rest. You nearly sprint back on the Crest, and decide to remain in the cockpit. The little cot Din sleeps in wouldn’t provide much space for… whatever it is that’s about to happen. You could use the mattress Din bought from one of the planets you’ve been on, since you’ve both been sleeping and fucking on it since its appearance aboard, but it was a bit unstable after the last time you used it.

You giggle to yourself reminiscing that night, how randy you both were and how rough and speedy things had gotten.

Din’s presence looms over you, a dark, yet shiny figure that somehow always seems to be watching over you. Heart in your throat, you stare at him with those big, doe eyes that drive him insane. You watch him rest in his usual seat, legs mildly spread; he proceeds to remove the beskar plates from his thighs, cocking his head to the side.

“Sit down, cyar’ika,” he coos.

Gods, you’re getting wetter with each passing second and you swear he could hear it with every step you take towards him. But you don’t falter: you spread your own legs and sit on his left thigh, suppressing a moan when your clothed core unconsciously grinds on him.

“Why did you want me to—?” you begin.

“I need you nice and wet before I give you my fingers.”

You gulp, completely blown away by how insanely attractive that sentence was. Din nods, thus encouraging you to move forward with what you need, and you anchor yourself to his broad shoulders, past the pauldrons. You pull him close as you start rubbing your clothed core on his leg, breaths already hitched in your chest. It’s already electric and it gets you tingly all over, and you wonder how long Din intends to keep playing this game.

The friction is good—too good. It’s debilitating in its simplicity, and you find yourself staring into what you presume are Din’s eyes. You see past the helmet’s visor, past everything else that might stand in between the two of you, and you like to think Din cannot keep his eyes away from you.

It’s absolutely true. It’s even more than that: everything that you do or say runs deeper for Din, much deeper than he could ever explain to you. Each drag of your clothed cunt along his thigh is sending him into a spiral of pleasure, clouding his better judgment and freezing him in this particular moment in time. There is nothing else but you, what you want, and how he can get you there.

He swears he feels your pulse throbbing in your core, and it makes him hard. Painfully hard. He’s truly at your mercy, a victim of your saccharine movements which show no mercy.

And then he remembers your flustered confession, and he grabs your hips to cease your grinding. You’re upset—you’ve been building towards something great, something explosive in your belly waiting to be detonated, and he stops it.

But, as you shift your eyes from his helmet to his lap, you notice the protruding erection in his pants, and the removal of his gloves. You hold your breath.

It should not be this attractive. It shouldn’t be—but it is. It’s simply erotic in its basic motions: Din pulls on the glove, one finger at a time, and frees his left hand. He repeats the gesture with his right hand, and now you gasp. Those calloused hands, the same ones that hold you close to his chest at night and knead your flesh in between them with unbridled passion, hold so much more power than Din himself is aware of.

Right under his cautious eyes and his irregular breaths, Din watches you strip down the clothes from your lower half; he feels his cheeks burn crimson with nervousness, an almost shocking realization that you want him so much. It is reciprocated by far: he gets so hard just thinking about you, it feels downright cruel.

Gods, he wishes he could kiss you right now.

More so, when you pull away from him and sit in the passenger’s seat with your legs semi-open, Din gulps, wishing he could quench his thirst by drinking straight from you. He wonders how you taste, what sounds you’d make should he bury his head in between your legs.

You’d be embarrassed at how wet you are just by looking at his hands and rubbing yourself on his thigh for a few minutes, but this is Din. This is no fling, no regular man.

With slightly wobbly legs, he makes his way to you, down on his knees before you. His fingers find your clit with ease, drawing circles as the other hand presses on your lower belly. You instantly throw your head back, a soft moan escaping past your lips.

“Din—”

“Is this what you wanted?”

“Mhm—”

All coherent words flee from your mind when one of his fingers pushes carefully past your soaked lips. He pushes slowly, testing you, but when you spread your legs further and try to move your hips so that they meet with more of his hand, Din nearly crumbles on the spot.

“You’re so warm,” he says in awe.

You can only moan, thankful when he adds a second finger and truly thrusts them inside you. You grab onto the seat, holding onto it till your knuckles turn white. The pleasure that runs through you is sapping, unbearable. Din’s fingers pump hastily in and out of you as the man behind the beskar watches your every facial expression, listens to your every sound.

His pants are strangling him by this point, and he’s not sure how much longer can he pretend like it doesn’t ache just to think about how hard this is making him.

“Oh, fuck,” you hear him whisper.

You look at him in a frenzy, mouth ajar, and see him fumble with his pants. The thrust of his fingers gets a little sloppy as he works with his other hand to free his cock from its confinement. You nearly gasp when you see how hard he is, the tip leaking with precum already. Din grunts as his hand wraps around his cock, resuming his ministration on your cunt.

“You’re so good,” you tell him. “You’re so good, Din—”

“Yeah?”

“Yes—yes, you are—”

The sounds filling the Crest are a concoction of his grunts and your moans, a delicious blend that has you both in shambles.

You catch a glimpse of him stroking himself, and you finally feel it. You feel that burn in your stomach, that much needed tingle leading to inevitable bliss. He sounds so fucking hot, and the idea that he can get so hard when pleasing you is the highest form of flattery.

He’s losing the string of thought with each stroke on his cock. He needs to feel your walls around him, he needs to feel you.

You gasp once Din ceases all motions on both of you. You’re about to complain, audibly so, but then he brings you back on your feet as he resumes his seat, having you straddle his lap. There’s no need for instructions or additional talk; you know exactly what to do. You’ve learned to recognize his neediness some time ago. And when he grabs your ass to move you closer to his weeping cock, you stand up a little, one hand around his cock as you guide it inside you. You moan brokenly, and so does Din. The feeling of his hardness in your warmth remains unmatched.

You anchor yourself to his shoulders once again and start moving up and down, rocking your hips to the best of your abilities. You’re so sensitive from the previous treatment that you doubt you’ll last long.

And somehow, you doubt Din will last long, either.

“Maker, you feel so—f-fucking good,” he grunts.

To that you smile, flattered and turned on alike.

“You’re so warm and—and tight and—fuck – I don’t think I can last, cyar’ika—”

“That’s okay. You’re doing so good.”

The praise gets to him—like, really gets to him. He loses himself in your scent and loses control of the rhythm, doing his best to thrust upwards and fuck you fast while you’re still riding him.

“That’s it—“ you barely breathe, feeling your climax fast approach for the second time. “That’s it, you’re so fucking good—right there, just like that—”

“I’m gonna come—fuck, fuck—”

“Din, please—”

The breathy enunciation of his name breaks him completely. In the spur of the moment, he yanks your hair and pulls you to his chest, burying himself to the hilt inside you. His breaths are harsher, his hands rigid around your torso and his cock softening inside after shooting his warm load.

You could stay like this forever if you could.

Neither says anything. You take your time to settle down and recover from the force of your orgasms, smiling down on him. You like the feeling of him inside of you so much, you dread the moment when he’ll pull out.

And then, you see him reach for his helmet as your heart settles in your throat, waiting, nearly giving out on you. He lifts it up in the slightest, revealing his jaw and, much to your shock, his mouth. You notice a hint of stubble and full lips, and you swear your heart stops altogether. But the shock doesn’t stop there: he takes the two fingers that had been inside you to take them to his mouth and he licks them clean right under your blown-out pupils.

“I knew you’d taste fucking good,” he says.

You blush, breaths shallower yet again. This time around, you know he is staring back at you. You feel his gaze burning through the visor and right through you, and you’re almost tempted to get him hard again just so he can fuck you angrily. Almost.

Maybe someday he’ll get a taste right from the source.

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ttrpgcafe · 7 months

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HOLY SHIT INVISIBLE SUN IS COMING BACK AND IT'S MY FAVORITE RPG OF ALL TIME PLEASE BACK IT SO I (or we, I guess) CAN GET THE WELLSPRING:

https://www.backerkit.com/c/projects/monte-cook-games/invisible-sun-return-of-the-black-cube#top

For those of you unfamiliar with Invisible Sun, it's an rpg where every single player is a spell caster of some variety, each with their own unique way of interacting with magic.

The Vances are the most traditional spellcasters, but they eschew spell lists in favor of literally filling a grid with spell cards, representing their limited cognitive space being taken up by spells. They get more space, and literally bigger spells as you progress.

Weavers take two concepts and combine them to produce an effect, very much like Ars Magica or Mage: The Ascension, if you're familiar with those. They get the ability to combine more concepts together, and to have mastery over more concepts as they progress.

Makers are this game's artificer, and they have a robust system for making quirky magic items that have fun, interesting, unique side effects or downsides every time you use them. Their progression is the most straight forward by the numbers "the things you make are more powerful and you're better at making them" of the bunch, but the system lets you, for instance, make a gun out of the body of a dead(?) god, so I'll give this a pass.

Lastly, there are the Goetics, who summon and bind otherworldly creatures to their wills. This takes the form of a conversation and negotiation with your GM over what you have to do for your bound creature, and what exactly they do for you in exchange. If you've ever played a warlock and felt like patrons weren't a big enough deal, this is an entire "class" that lets those relationships (yes, plural) take center stage.

The entire system feels very much like Cypher system 2.0, with a d10 dice pool system with a straight forward level of difficulty to hit, very much like the levels of difficulty in base cypher system, just made easier to manage. It even uses the "I'm an Adjective Noun who Verbs" character structure from Cypher system, here made much more interesting by the addition of a funky little xp system.

Invisible Sun has one of the most interesting advancement systems I've ever seen: aside from normal, average, "you do a thing, you get xp" system, here called "Acumen" (used to increase your stats and skills) there is a separate xp system related to good and bad things happening to your character, called "Joy" and "Despair" respectively. You combine one Joy with one Despair to get a "Crux" which is the xp currency you need to advance your class and focus abilities. This incentivizes players to not only let bad things happen to them, but to SEEK THEM OUT, which is huge! Players often think they want to win all the time, but they don't actually want that, it makes for a boring narrative. This is one of the very few systems I've seen incentivize this story structure, and I'm absolutely in love with it.

Lastly, because the game focuses so heavily on Magic, it has the only system for simulating the ebbs and flows of magic I've seen done well! This involves "The Path of Suns" and the "Sooth deck" which is the in game name for a specific pattern of laying out what amounts to tarot cards that make magic dynamic, interesting, and unpredictable in a way I've never seen before, and rarely since. (Pathfinder's Secrets of Magic is the only other supplement I can think of, and that was almost 5 years after this game came out)

Anyway, I can't recommend this game enough, the systems are unique, the vibes are immaculate, and it's so fuckin WEIRD in the best way.

#ttrpgs #indie ttrpg #ttrpg #indie games #rpg #tabletop #invisible sun #monte cook games #mcg #cypher system #magic #magic system

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sparrowrye · 28 days

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Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A3 part 5

Synopsis: Alastor disappeared for 8 years, leaving you confused, crushed, and angry. You spent those years building up your new self and protecting the haven from dangers left and right. What will happen when he returns to the new changes? Will he return anytime soon? Could you even go back to the way things were?

Previous part

Part 5: trouble in paradise

WARNING! You should make sure you're in the right mental headspace to deal with a challenging chapter like this (several mentions of suicide). Also, it's very long.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I am not having this conversation with you." I whisked around and headed for the front door, making sure my tail whipped against his leg as I did. He caught the end and yanked me back. I spun on my heels, teeth bared in a snarl, and eyes dark with anger. "How dare--"

"We are having this conversation." He took a step to meet me halfway, causing me to nearly run into his chest. He slammed his cane on the wood floor and brought his face close to mine. "Your behavior has been abrasive, rude, and unacceptable."

"My behavior? My behavior?" I slammed a hand on my own chest. "How about yours? You've been short with me and the children, you and Reagan can't seem to be adults and be in the same room for more than five minutes without tearing each other's throats out, you snap at Husker left and right, and you keep trying to tell me what to do."

He straightened up so he was looking down his nose at me. His smile was quirked up in a black gummy snarl. "The children are misbehaved, I refrain from speaking to Reagan but she insists on eliciting an argument, I'm treating Husker as I always have, and I am in no way telling you to do anything." His staticky voice was sharper than usual and he attempted to break through my shield with his mind. It edged on my anger as I reinforced the shield.

"That's right, you're not telling what to do." I jerked back my tail from his grip. "You're telling me what not to do. I've been on my own for eight years. Even longer than that before you came into my life. I don't need your protection or your help."

His ears bent back as his smile strained to stay up. My snarl fell from guilt.

"We have magic. You have far more advanced magic. If I'm in danger you can easily come and be the great savior. For now, leave me alone to hunt this bastard's factory down. I need to clear my head. Reagan and Lucas will take care of Nym and Thatcher." I turned back to the door, being extra careful to keep my tail close to my heels, and closed it behind me.

I morphed into my Dragon form and took to the skies. The wind whipped past my face and the clouds were a soothing dousing to my hot anger. I flew from cloud to cloud, keeping well out of sight until my wings grew tired from the exertion.

Incorporating Alastor back into my life, into everyone else's lives, didn't go as smoothly as I had planned.

The first biggest issue was the children. He didn't care for Nym and Thatcher in the slightest. He was actively annoyed by their mere presence and they knew it, too. It made them more avoidant of the house itself and more clingy to me when they were inside. They were either at my side or in their room -- never did they spend time with each other in the common spaces of the household. I felt guilty for letting that happen.

Reagan wasn't helping either. She and Alastor were always arguing whenever they were left alone together. Sometimes they even argued about me when I was present in the room. Reagan was protective of me, a trait I found admirable, but it was causing more problems than solutions. Alastor being Alastor, he didn't let any snide remarks or comments slide. I felt guilty for letting Reagan know more about the complicated relationship. I should've kept her oblivious for as long as possible.

Husker was also being avoidant. He didn't frequent the old house like he used to and any time Alastor stepped in the room he fell silent and stood on the opposite side of the room as me. It didn't take long to realize Alastor was upset that Husker and I were close--closer than Alastor and I. Guilt gnawed at my chest for not defending my friend.

The others, from Charlie to Vivian, to Althea, to Vilcin, and to everyone in between, were constantly asking me how I was holding up with Alastor. Reagan's words echoed in my head about how she and Husker had to deal with my affects of Alastor's disappearance. So I put on a smile and told them we were working on it.

Althea had caught me on the streets and tried to dig deeper, claiming that the thread between me and Alastor was very transparent. I kept up the act and told her we were taking small steps to make it stronger. She didn't believe me--I could tell by the way she looked at me--but there was nothing she could do about it.

I touched down in a random forest and melted into the shadows. I skidded across the unoccupied plots of land until I came to a town. I picked a random shadow and stayed hidden in it, listening and watching all around me. How much more simpler were these people's lives? My own life felt so vastly unique that it actually felt tragic.

I jumped from shadow to shadow, from town to town, for hours on end. No amount of hunting could reveal any kind of information. Though I wasn't really searching for anything. I knew Vox's trackers would lead us right to the factory but I needed something to do. My responsibilities in the haven had vanished--likely from Charlie's input--on the account of giving me more time to spend with my family. If only they knew that it would better help me if I had something to occupy my hands and mind.

So I stayed off the haven's grounds from dawn to dusk, and further on. I was procrastinating my next interaction with Alastor. I knew he wouldn't severely hurt me but the memories from when we first met had begun to resurface. Alastor always had a screw loose so what would happen if he was pushed to the very edge? I was likely going to be the one on the receiving end of it.

I manifested in an alley of a small town and sat down. I was exhausted; physically and mentally. I leaned my head against the cold brick and listened with my Demon ears, no magic, to the sounds of the quiet little town.

I could hear mumbled conversations from family's and couples, could hear the static of radios and televisions, could hear the rustle of a cat looking for dinner in a nearby street, and could hear my own labored breathing.

I was feeling panic. Why was I panicking? Why was I sweating so much? I hadn't used a lot of magic today or even recently. Why was my chest so tight?

My fingers gripped the stone beneath me. I scraped my foot claws so they drew little white lines in the pavement. My heart was thundering in my ears and adrenaline was confusing through my body for no apparent reason.

I leaned to the side on my forearms as it became difficult to breathe. My throat was so tight and my hands felt cold. There was no magic around me. I couldn't feel anyone. I couldn't hear or see anyone either, meaning any of Blackwater's legacy weren't nearby.

So what was wrong?

My breathing came in wheezes. I gripped my maroon jacket as I my vision darkened. My claws were scrapping against the pavement. I needed to breathe. My magic wasn't working. Why wasn't it working? I couldn't sit still. I just needed to breathe.

"What's wrong with you?"

My head snapped up at Vox's familiar voice. My lips pulled back in a snarl as I scrambled to my feet and attempted to collect myself.

"What do you want?" I demanded.

"You seemed like you were struggling so I came to check."

"How sweet," I mused sarcastically. I was so out of breath.

He gave me an unamused look. "Trouble in paradise?"

"That's none of your concern."

"Oh sure it is," he held his hands behind his back, "When my lovely guardian is shriveling on the cold ground in my territory, it becomes my concern."

Shit. I hadn't realized I was on Vee territory. I hadn't paid attention to any of the trademarks of their land.

"Don't you have a ring fight to broadcast?" I snapped. I was so hot. My magic was struggling to cool me down. Why couldn't I control my magic? Was Vox in on this? Was he causing this?

"My champion doesn't fight on weekdays." He casually pulled out his phone and started scrolling on something. Vox had concocted a strange mix of willing and unwilling fighters for a massive ring fight. He broadcasted these fights nearly every evening. They didn't always end in death but that didn't make it any less. It made me grateful that part of our deal included that I would not defend his stations if there was an active ring fight. It kept my name from being tarnished.

I hate politics.

I put my hands in my pockets and left the small alley. I tried to get Alcine to wrap around my legs to teleport me but she wasn't willing. Her large hat stayed within my peripheral as I tried several times over to melt into the shadows. Something was very wrong.

Vox's loud, metal boots tapped the ground as he came running up to me. I turned right as he reached for my face. Blue claws zapped with blue electricity. It ran through my body and left me frozen in place in the new location. My hair was sticking up and my tense body was ready to kill someone.

As soon as Vox's flat face came into view, I struck. My black claws wrapped around his throat and the other gripped the corner of his screen to keep his head from moving. I wrapped my tail around his torso and stepped my massive foot claws on top of his feet.

"I made it very clear that you were to never do that again," I hissed, spit falling on his screen in tiny drops. My voice had dropped and my eyes blackened. My own vision had a coat of dark purple across it.

"F-figured you could...use some personal space." Vox choked against my tight hand. I examined the room. It looked like a simple lounge room. The bright pink and various other colors told me we were in one of Valentino's studios. My magic reached out to feel we were down in Hell.

Vox stifled a cough. I shoved him away so his back hit the wall. "Why is everyone attempting to protect me? I'm the one who protected the Haven for eight years straight. I'm the one who killed Blackwater. I'm the one who you asked to protect your surface stations. I don't need help or protection!"

Vox rubbed a hand on his neck. "It's out of care," he shot back, "You've done a lot for everyone and we just want to return the favor."

"You can return the favor by staying out of my way and leaving everything to me. I can handle it." My tail whipped furiously behind me as I stepped in a circle. My foot claws tapped the tile loudly.

Vox fixed his suite. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're hella good protecting everyone but shit when it comes to yourself."

"What is that supposed to mean?" My eyes narrowed and I grew very still.

"This isn't the first time you're having mental problems. You almost didn't come back after killing Striker and Blackwater."

"How do you know that information?" I took several steps towards him.

"I have my sources." For the first time, he wasn't smug about it. Was he actually trying to be kind and helpful?

"You're an awfully nosy person." I was gradually reigning my magic in. I knew how to pick at the smallest bit of magic, thanks to Adam and Blackwater, but doing it while awake and conversing with another Demon was a different story.

"It helps me stay connected with everything that's happening. Hence why I gave you a phone but don't listen in. You need to stay just as connected as me." He reached his magic out to touch mine. I magically flinched away. There were few times in our interactions that we had had genuine conversations. This felt like one of them.

"You seem interested in helping me more now that Alastor is back." I put my hands in my pockets and pulled my shoulders back.

He gave me a funny look. "I've been trying to help for the past eight years. Are you telling me you haven't noticed? I'm the one who approached you about our deal."

"I know you've done nothing but flirt with me and try to convince me to leave Alastor."

"Now that he's back, I know you won't leave him. Well, I know he won't let you leave." He flicked his hand dismissively, eyes averted to the side.

Something about the way Vox said that itched the wrong part in my brain.

"You realize I have as much a say as he does."

Vox's sly look returned. That's the Vox I knew how to handle. "Do you? You're not even a hundred years old. He's got centuries on you."

"And centuries are supposed to mean he's in charge of my every step and word?"

"You're his soulmate. And he's--well--he's Alastor. He's not one to just let things happen."

"Are you trying to stroke my ego or degrade it? I've gotten both from you in the span of five minutes." I faked a look at a nonexistent watch on my wrist.

"I'm trying to talk you down from whatever panic attack you were having in the alley. And it looks like I did exactly that."

I took stock and realized he was right. My magic was back in my grip, my hands weren't as sweaty, my heart was at a normal rate, and my head felt clear. So that had been a panic attack? I didn't get panic attacks. I had meltdowns when things were too much but I never had a panic attack before. This wasn't good.

"I appreciate the help," I said, suddenly very sullen and not at all representing my Dragon Demon persona, "but I need to return home now."

"I'll be here if you ever need someone to grab a cup of coffee with." His tone was just as sullen as mine as he walked to the door. I melted with Alcine and found a small, empty alley in Pentagram City. Before I could convince myself otherwise, I teleported back up to the surface.

It was a new moon which made everything look pitch black. I could hear the splash of the waves at the base of the cliff and the whistling of the wind. I reached my magic out to feel Reagan, Lucas, Nym, Thatcher, and Alastor all safe in the house. I checked in on the young pair, the horrid nightmare of Adam standing over them resurfacing, before going to my bedroom.

Alastor was in his office so I quickly changed into soft night clothes and glanced at the old timey clock on the mantle. Why was he in his office at this hour? What was he doing? Was he avoiding me as much as I was avoiding him?

I casted the small fire out and climbed into bed. Alastor walked in a few minutes later. My ears strained to listen to his soft movements until he was lying in bed next to me. I ignoring the guilty pit forming in my stomach and put myself to sleep.

Had I known what would happen, I wouldn't have gone to sleep that night.

****

I let out a sigh and hung up the towel. I looked at my red eyes and saw another bright pair behind me. I screamed and spun a cast back at him, slipping on the tile as I did. The back of my knees hit the rim of the tub and I fell backwards in it. I scrmabled back with my hand outstretched. The faucet dug into my spine. He practically glided into the small room.

"Don't come closer!" I yelled. "My accuracy gets better every time."

"Your Slight magic stands no chance against me," he mused, "but I appreciate the confidence."

"The fuck do you want?" I demanded again.

"Should it surprise you that I want to meet my soulmate?" He tilted his head to the side.

"If you kill me you also die," I reminded him.

He chuckled. "I know how the magic of soulmates work, my dear." He stepped close and held out a hand to me. "If I wanted you dead, I would have done so already." The deepening of his tone didn't make me want to accept his gesture any more than already.

------

I landed hard on my back and felt a crack run through my spine. I sucked in a gasp of air and stared up at the gray sky. I gripped at the wet grass and tried to pull my strength back in. Alastor appeared above me a moment later, smiling down at my paralyzed body. He knelt beside my head so his ugly yellow smile came closer to my face.

"This suites you," he said, "this desperation. You're trying so hard to escape no matter what it does or if it kills you." He pushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. "Unfortunately for you, it matters to me because we share the same fate."

"Fuck you."

His smile lessened slightly. "I'll add another rule for you to follow." He grabbed my throat and hoisted me to my feet. His claws dug painfully into my skin until I could feel my blood soaking my shirt. He pushed me against a tree and leaned in close to my face. I pulled on his wrist and tried not to cough in his face. "Rule number five. Never speak to me in such a way again." He paused. "Words like that are unbefitting for a woman."

"You can..." I struggled to speak clearly, "you can...keep me here but...but I'm...but I will not play...play by your rules." My heart was racing as his grip tightened even more so. He dies if you die. He dies if you die. I repeated in my head.

He let go of me and I fell face first into the ground. I gasped and coughed up spit as I rubbed my throat. "Give it time." I saw his feet walk around to stand in front of me. "I can be very persuasive."

------

"I know what you're trying to do," I jutted a finger at him. I leaned against the wall to get off my injured foot. "You did this to me on purpose. You're trying to make me grateful for you."

"So what if I am?" He put his hands up like sharp ugly flowers. "After all, you should be grateful. You could carry on with a life in the rings or spend it in a distant safe house with nothing to worry about ever again."

"It's a cage."

"To you, my dear, everything is a cage." He walked over and put his hand out to me.

"What?" I looked between his red eyes and his dark claws.

"Are you ready to return home now?"

I almost wished he had just teleported me back without asking. I didn't want to touch him let alone take his hand. Who knew if he had conjured up some kind of magic deal that solidified when I grabbed his hand?

And yet, when I looked around at the quiet, dangerous town, I knew there wasn't another option. He would keep looking for me and a Full mage with his power could most certainly find me with ease. I didn't want to go back in that cellar. All because I had the worst luck in the world and had him as a soulmate.

I looked down at my feet and took his hand.

------

"What is it, doll? What's happening?"

"He's...the man...he's wearing a white suite...exactly the color of his hair...and he's yelling with her. They're fighting. There's yelling. He hits her. She's arguing back but not fighting. Why won't she fight?"

"Stay with me dear." She touched my lap. I tried to lower my tense shoulders but it was hard.

"He picked me up and...he closed the door on her. She's screaming. Why is she screaming? Why is he taking me away from her? I can't...I can't reach her. I don't...where is he taking me? I don't want to leave her."

"Enough sweetheart, come back. Come out of the memory." She touched my shoulder this time. "Come back to my store. Come back to this world. It's all just a memory."

"I can't stop crying. Why...is that my mother?"

"Sweetheart, you need to come back. You're going in too deep. Stop the emotions."

"But...I want to see her."

"We'll look next time. We can come back next time but you need to take a break. Come out of the memory. Come back to the store. Blink twice and look up."

I stared at the figure reaching out to me through the bars. I was so close. I just wanted to touch her hand one more time. But it was just a memory. She wasn't really there. She might not even be alive at all.

------

"You need to accept the fact that you will never leave this place for the rest of your life," he said with radio static behind his voice. He let me down so my feet were flat on the ground but so he could tower over me. I put one hand on his wrist and the other arm across his chest to keep him away.

"I'm growing tired of your antics. These little outbursts of yours will stop today." It was more terrifying that he was smiling through his anger. I leaned away despite the sheer drop beneath me and he followed, never more than an inch away. "If you don't want me to treat you like a caged pet, I suggest you apologize and quit it with this delusion of yours."

His smile was wide and his breath smelled like roadkill. He dug his claws further into the wound he created, making me wince. "I'm-I'm sorry." He held me over the edge for several heartbeats. Eventually he pulled me away but didn't let get off my neck.

"I never want to hear you mention anything about leaving here, again. To me or to Husker. Do you understand?"

I wanted to cough from the way he was holding me but I held it in. The tentacles were still pulling onto my wings and pulling them painfully down. My resignation made my shoulders fall. "Perfectly."

He let go. I turned to the side to cough, clutching at my bleeding neck. I felt the wounds closing but the blood was still plastered to my skin.

"Good talk." His cane appeared in one hand and he put the other behind his back. His voice sounded chipper again. "Come, dear, let's clean you up." He held his hand out towards the house, looking at me sideways. I took a deep breath and walked past. He walked close behind me.

------

"Sweetheart it's a memory. It's not actually happening," Rosie said.

I cried as the memory continued. I bit down on the man's hand but he just pulled my hands further away from my face. I tried curling in on myself but it did nothing. His other hand moved roughly over my skin as I screamed into the gag.

I felt Alastor's presence come from behind me. I squeezed my eyes shut and dipped into my mindscape. "Alastor!" I yelled as the memory dragged me back through my shields. I felt his presence wrap around my head and saw nothing but red. It felt like a string was being pulled out of my ear as he pushed me into the safety of my shields.

"You're safe. Come out of your head," he instructed.

I closed my eyes, pushing away the forbidden memory, and opened my eyes to the library. All three of them were surrounding me, staring down with panic-stricken faces. Alastor opened his eyes and took his hand from my forehead. His eyebrows were the only thing that told me he was upset.

Husker pulled me up to a sitting position as Rosie practically shoved a glass of water down my throat. I took several moments to catch my breath, the two of them trying to help calm me. I stared at the carpet and tried to think of anything other than that horrid memory. I didn't know I even had that memory.

"You're back, and you're safe," Husker said, holding out his paw. I took it and let him help me into a chair. I leaned back into the seat and looked around at the dark library. I was back in the house. I was safe. Relatively.

------

"Do you feel that?" Alastor stood, my hand still firmly trapped on his and pulling me to my feet. He smiled wide and tapped his fingers on his cane. It felt like a flow of magic was cycling between us. It was the same feeling as when a strong gust of wind blows in my face. It felt good.

"Did I do it? Did I unravel it?" I asked. Husker and Niffty were well awake and watching intently.

"Oh you most certainly did. The curse is gone and your true power shines through." His smile widened and looked janky, truly devilish. His eyes had a look of insanity to them. "It will only grow and grow with time. I will be there every step of the way to guide and harbor this power of yours."

I suddenly wanted to be twenty yards from him. I tried to let go but his grip only tightened. His shadow loomed behind him with a large smile and my own shadow turned into a dragon again.

"Our magic combined is like nothing I've seen before." He jerked my hand back so I stumbled into him. My head had to tilt way back just to keep eye contact. "Together, with our combined power, we will be untouchable." His hair had hardened into spikes and his antlers grew overhead. His eyes darkened and his smile reached well past them. Were those stitches on the corners of his mouth?

His claws weren't touching my skin but his grip was crushing my hand. I could feel pins and needles poking through my finger and it went straight up to my shoulder.

"You're...you're hurting me," I whimpered.

------

"Alastor...I..." It was getting harder to breathe. "I didn't...he took me. I...I didn't leave—" pain cut off my words. I squeezed my eyes shut as it rocked through my spine and into head.

"I'm aware." He pressed his claws around my temples and I felt the pain dull. He slipped his arms under my shoulders and legs, lifting me up effortlessly. "Take a look, my dear."

I opened my eyes to see the alley littered with dead and deformed bodies. There had to be at least thirty dead Demons.

"That was all you."

My shoulders fell with my spirit. I had killed all of them. I had even eaten some of them. Their sweet blood still lingered on my tongue and I found myself wishing for more. I could see their scared faces in my mind and feel my heart quicken at the mere thought of them being terrified. They had all been so scared when I had transformed.

Alastor turned the other way but I stared at the site over his shoulder. I actually wanted him to let me go so I could do it again. The energy from all of them still buzzed in my body despite the overwhelming exhaustion.

"I told you dear," my ear flicked at his voice, tears streaming down my cheeks and claws digging into his shoulders, "it's in your nature."

------

Striker grabbed Reagan by the throat and held her close to his face. I fought against the white rope trapping my limbs against my body, but it did nothing. My magic was gone from my grip and the rope kept me entirely immobile.

"You thought you could get rid of me that easily?" he taunted, eyes flickering over to me. "I'll haunt your dreams and your every waking hour. Just wait and see." He withdrew a white knife and plunged it into Reagan's heart.

I yelled and bolted upright from my bed. I fell off the side, covers trapping my legs, and tried to stand up. I choked on a sob and untangled myself.

------

"What does that mean?" she asked, voice quivering. He stopped his assault and took a step back to examine her fully.

"It means your family line has stayed pure since before the Great Collapse." When she showed no obvious sign of understanding, he let out a sigh and put his hands back in his coat pockets. "Magic was not a thing before the Great Collapse. Demons were leaked into our world and brought their wretched magic with them. They started having children with Humans and generations later, everyone had Demon's blood in them. You, my dear," he stood beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder, "are a rare, pure gem. You're not infected with their blood."

Reagan's eyes snapped over to mine. All I could think was - oh no.

He reached up to his face to remove his glasses and his horns. They were fake. "I, myself, am a pure Human." My eyes widened, mouth dropping open. He was a Human. He was a defenseless Human. No wonder he had made all those inventions. "And I'm so glad to have found another one to add to our family."

"Family?" she questioned with a tone of disgust.

"I've been all around the world and collected ten pure Humans. We're going to be the foundation of the new world. A world that isn't tainted by Demons." His eyes narrowed on me.

"We're not all bad," I tried, limply pulling against the chains. My energy was taking forever to return. "We've created a safe haven for everyone. A place where both sides can live peacefully together."

"That wont last long." He waved his hand dismissively. "Demons are ruthless killers and Humans can't fathom having anyone above them."

------

Blackwater's laughter reached past it all. "A true Demon thirsty for blood. I expect nothing less from Alastor's soulmate." He turned to look at Reagan. "Did you know about this?" She shook her head in response, eyes never leaving my writhing form.

"Not...not all...just me...just Alastor." I spoke through the spasms and clenched teeth. I don't know how any of them hadn't broken yet from the sheer force. My breathing was getting faster, my whines louder.

"This is the person you're entrusting everything to," he went on, ignoring my response. "Demons can't help but lie. Lie and manipulate. It's why they come from Hell."

------

"Hey hey, it's okay. It'll be okay. Please stay with me." Husker's pleas were faint. I was curled up in a ball in the corner of my room. My wings were wrapped tightly around my body and a shield of thorny vines kept Husker physically away from me. My claws were digging into the back of my neck, blood falling down my shoulders like a waterfall. My cries were loud and ear piercing.

The shadowed souls broke through my barrier and crawled over each other to reach me. They tackled me like ants on a sweet apple, hungry for my soul and the energy it could provide them. And I let them. My soul felt like it was being torn in eighteen different ways but I didn't fight back -- couldn't fight back.

Then they disappeared.

I looked around to see Lucifer sending them back and raising a bright white and gold shield in place of my shattered ones. My purple mind turned red. How dare Lucifer take away a much deserved death.

------

I pulled myself out of the dreams to see the same black souls pushing against my last shield. They were so close. They were crying out for my energy, crying out for passage, crying out of pain. They were stepping and climbing over each other. Some even tried to climb up my shield to claw through it from the top.

Voices. Voices everywhere. Voices I knew.

I will always be the master of the shadows. -- Alastor

You, half bastard, will get what you deserve soon enough. -- Adam

This involves all of us, especially me and Husker, because we're the ones who had to deal with how it affected her. -- Reagan

Tell me, dear, how's it feel to know that all your hard work will be for nothing? No one will challenge your haven now that he's back and defending it. You won't need our deal anymore but you're still bound to it. You might even be forgotten as news picks up on his return. After all, who can trump the Radio Demon? -- Vox

She has no idea where to even begin to understand herself. And you know only one kind of magic. I am the closest thing to whatever she is. And if you'd like to keep your soulmate alive and sane, I will be working with her to keep her mind from breaking. -- Lucifer

A shadow scraped a claw on my arm. I curled up on the floor and covered my head. "Everyone shut up!" I yelled out. Alastor was pushing against my shields, too, but I wasn't letting anyone in. Not Lucifer, not Husker, not the souls, and not him.

More claws caught my back. My shield was shrinking and their arms were breaking through the shield like glass. I couldn't escape the voices. I couldn't escape my past. I couldn't escape myself. Vox had been right. Alastor had been right. Husker had been right. Everyone had been right about anything and everything. Why was I so useless? Why was I so helpless? Why did I always need saving? Wasn't I strong enough? Hadn't I come a long way?

I would never be on Alastor's level, let alone surpass him. I would always fall short. My past would always come back to haunt me. I couldn't escape. Wasn't I enough?

Something shattered.

Something sharp and aggressive burst through my shields.

Something suffocatingly hot surrounded my mind.

Alastor filled my mind. Red and green colored my vision as his magic spread through my body like wild fire. I couldn't push him away--couldn't get him out. He pulsed through me like my own blood.

Then he pulled.

But I resisted.

My claws dug into the ground as he wrapped his red arms around my torso and pulled me into the darkness; pulled me closer back to reality. I screamed and pushed against him. I didn't want to go back.

"Leave me to die!" I yelled. I tried clawing deep cuts in his arms but they bounced off like rubber. I twisted in all different directions, jumped and dropped my weight randomly, and threw my head back in an effort to hit his face.

Sharp anger poked my mind an instant before I was roughly shoved into the mattress. My eyes snapped open to his glowing, towering figure.

I brought my legs up and shoved him away, nearly sending him off the end of the bed. I untangle my legs from the sheets and tackled him, sending him the rest of the way. "How dare you!" My claws enclosed around his neck. And he let me.

I stopped.

My hands were still around his neck, as was his mind around mine, and his eyes stared blankly up at me. Why wasn't he fighting back? Why wasn't he getting angry in return?

I stood up and backed away. He stood up and fixed his coat and bow tie, eyes fixating on me a second after. Orange sun was poking through the curtains. Was it the evening?

His unemotional eyes never left me as he folded his hands behind his back. I could see the faint string connecting our hearts. It wasn't tight. It was hanging loosely between us.

I fell to my knees.

My hands covered my face.

I began to cry.

I curled inward until I was as small as I could make myself. It wasn't until Alastor laid a hand on my back that I noticed he had moved. I fell under a breath holding spell for what felt like forever.

"Breathe my dear." His voice was soft, gentle, and exactly like I remembered it. "Take it slow." He threaded a hand past my shoulder and into the curled mess. The smell of cedar wood and sweat pinched my nose and I sucked in a huge gasp of sweet air.

I made several more as my body tried to regulate its oxygen intake. Alastor spoke more comfort words until my breathing wasn't coming in wheezes anymore.

His hand was warm. So warm. So comforting.

If I let myself bask in his warmth, how much colder would it be when he disappears again?

But the warm circles he was drawing on my back were oh so relaxing. So comforting. I've been waiting eight years for this. Waiting eight years to know why he left. Waiting eight years to be moved on a deeper level once again.

"My dear, I'm here," his radioless voice cut through the silence. "I am here to stay."

Against my better judgment, I unstuck one of my hands and reached his leg that was touching my side. It felt like I was trying to soak up the sun.

His smooth claws laid carefully, lightly, on top of my hand. It moved up to my forearm and captured my arm in his warm grip. He was real. He was here. I was touching him. He wasn't a ghost--wasn't a hallucination.

"I am here, love." His hot breath brushed against my ear. His other arm stretched across my back and hooked on my shoulder. He gave a small tug and this time I didn't resist, allowing him to pull me out of my tight little ball.

He shifted his position so his legs were on either side of me as I leaned against his chest. He was so warm. He began to hum, the vibrations in his chest nearly sending me back to sleep. I wrapped my arms around his narrow torso and wrapped my tail around one of his legs.

"I hate you." I choked on a sob. "I hate you so much."

"Shh, darling. I know." One arm kept my firmly against him while the other threaded smoothly through my hair. It felt so comforting, so relaxing, and so right. Alastor the Radio Demon was being careful, gentle, and loving towards someone. And I was the lucky someone.

"I hate you," I mumbled again. But I love you.

He placed a gentle kiss on the top of my head. I love you too, he answered through our minds. The connection was back. We were back. How long would this good time last?

He brought his hand around to my jaw and used his thumb to push my chin up. He locked eyes with me, his genuine smile stretching on his lips. He used another claw to push a small strand of hair out of my eyes.

"There's my girl."

And placed a soft kiss on my lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note:

Big thanks to @wendigonamecaller for the help/ideas on this chapter.

We got over the big hump. Now is time for the sweet stuff :P

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine @thesimpybitch @papas-ghoulette @masochist-downfall

#demi demon #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #soulmate au #soulmates #reqs open

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captainofthetidesbreath · 7 months

Text

The cast is finally making their London appearance, and the Nein are back! It's... actually really wild. I don't have the space here to be wistful because we have a LOT to get to here on bingo this week.

You can grab your own card at this BingoBaker link. The call list is 48 items long, all of which are listed below the cut—there's information about potentially adding more and when I will lock this call list below, but first, some notes:

"other item taken from Trent" is for any update on who has the Ring of Warding, the Rod of Absorption, or the Mantle of Spell Resistance. Naming these items explicitly did not fit well into a square. The Ring of Telepathy does NOT count, since we already know Caleb took that.

Appearances over Scrying or a vision do count. Sending is not working, but Sending also would have counted.

If a character is listed as just a mention but they appear, the square is legal.

"other multiclass" is if any member of the Nein who is not Fjord or Veth has multiclassed.

In the event that the Nein is at least level 19, "new feat used" is legal only if we absolutely know what the feat IS. Deducing they have one by their stats does not count.

"Counterspell against Counterspell" does not need to succeed.

Unless otherwise stated, a listed spell or ability does not need to succeed, i.e. the only square that needs a success to be legal is "successful Counterspell".

"Fjord short-range teleport" is under his own power. Him being taken along with someone else's short-range teleport, i.e. Dimension Door, does not count. His Arcane Gate does count.

There is a chance I will add things before the live show starts. The call list will be locked at 6:30pm BST / 1:30pm ET / 10:30am PT. If I add anything, I will make a post about it. If you wish to play with any added squares, you can refresh your bingo card if you're playing digitally (though, remember phone etiquette!); if you are playing with a printed sheet, don't worry about it. (Also, to answer in advance because this is queued for 5am ET, if you want to print these as handouts, I don't mind. Just don't litter.)

I cannot answer questions about what is legal until the broadcast on Thursday evening. I also ask that you NOT send me spoilers; I am happy to see your bingos and almost bingos, but please wait until the broadcast finishes. I CAN clarify what a square means though.

I will be reposting this on Thursday afternoon exactly as it is here, altered only to include any squares I hypothetically added, but otherwise it will be identical to this one.

Good luck, have fun, and I'm so jealous.

new magic item

Fjord's ship named

Yasha Sending

Beau and Caleb random teleport drop

Ludinus simulacrum

Desirat

sealing unsealed danger

Assembly politics

Sprinkle status

PC couple married or engaged

Rexxentrum

somewhere in the Coast

somewhere in the Greying Wildlands

elsewhere in Wildemount

animated opening change

Jester's paints

Cape of the Mountebank

other item taken from Trent

Artagan appearance

Astrid appearance

Essek appearance

Oliver Schreiber appearance

Luc or Yeza mention

Marion mention

Yussa mention

Ryn mention

level 20

less than level 20

Fjord: warlock 13

Fjord: paladin 7

Fjord: over warlock 13

Fjord: less than paladin 7

Veth: over wizard 1

other multiclass

new feat used

new spell

dunamancy spell

Commune

Counterspell against Counterspell

successful Counterspell

Polymorph or Shapechange

Sending attempt

Fjord short-range teleport

Divine Intervention

Divine Smite

Fjord Channel Divinity

Stunning Strike

Zealous Presence

#CritRole bingo #Critical Role

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tiddygame · 3 months

Text

hello im sorry i wrote more for @myriadblvck ’s streamer au ghoap

I time travelled and around 4,000 words magically appeared in a document titled: "you didn't juju on the fucking beat soap" I think I was possessed by something. anyways here’s that:

tw: is it a panic attack? is it just typical ghost angst? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ just be careful it's mostly fluffy (ghost is mean to himself cause he almost kissed soap on the forehead)

also i just realized after i wrote this whole thing, this is based on my general knowledge of dog tags… as an american. writing about the british military. so if you know your shit about the british military, uhh sorry in advance. my bad. from a very brief search i think a lot of it’s the same or at least same enough but this might hurt for people that know a thing or two. whoops!

fun fact: did you know for a brief stint (iirc, >40 years from around 1960s to 2010ish) the american military was printing soldiers’ ss numbers on their tags? yeah can’t imagine why they switched back to serial numbers.

Ghost had been pacing outside of his office for three minutes before he actually entered. When he did, he didn’t say a word. Just sat down in one of the chairs, fidgeting. It wasn't that uncommon of an occurrence, he was normally either gathering his thoughts before talking to Price about something more personal or hiding from what/whoever he didn't feel like dealing with.

When it came to mission debriefs, he was clear and concise. However, personal matters were a different story, and based on the way he anxiously opened and closed his hand, he'd guess this was a personal matter.

Price didn’t ask. He knew that whatever it was Simon needed to say would come out eventually. For now, he continued filling out paperwork and trying to figure out what it was that had Ghost so worked up.

Honestly, there wasn't much guesswork involved. Chances were, it was probably yet another leave request. He knew from Gaz (who was such an awful gossip he sometimes wondered how the man made it through interrogation training) that Simon had been visiting some social media person he had taken a liking to.

(Look, yes, Price knew about Twitch and live streaming and everything. He’s not actually that old. However, as long as he kept up the front of the old man who complained about the keyboard on his phone being too small, he didn’t have to deal with social media. Sure, it caused all of them to joke that he was geriatric and on his last legs, but he was able to convince Roach that he doesn’t know what TikTok is, meaning he wasn’t in charge of reviewing all the bullshit he and Gaz posted. A fair trade if you ask him.)

He also knew that Gaz was convinced the two were in love to the point that he and Roach had a bet going to see when they would get together. Price thought it was rather stupid, but he had to admire their ability to keep it under wraps; if the lieutenant found out they’d been placing monetary bets on his love life, he had a feeling he would need to find replacements for the 141.

Regardless, Price hoped that one day Simon would tell him about the friend but, until then, he was happy to fill out any paperwork that would get the poor man off base. God knows that idiot needs a vacation.

Simon was bouncing his leg, messing with his fingers, and staring off into space.

Three of his nervous habits at once? He must be even more worked up about this than Price thought. But, he was a patient man. It was about seven minutes of companionable silence before Simon spoke.

“I need replacement dog tags. I seem to have lost mine.”

Price looked up. He could see the chain around his neck and the outline of them still under his shirt.

"You do?" Price shuffled his documents around, eventually finding a blank piece of paper he could write on.

"Yes sir."

“And do you know what happened to them?”

“I believe they were knocked off during the fight from the last mission. I didn’t notice until later that night when we were back at base.”

Price paused and looked up from where he had been writing.

The last mission had been an odd one. Ghost normally stuck further away, their eagle-eyed lieutenant typically stayed at long to mid-range, watching for hostiles and making sure whoever else was in the field wouldn’t get caught off guard by someone they hadn’t seen.

During the last mission, he decided to engage at close range, a far cry from his usual approach of sniping hostiles from the shadows.

At one point, their lieutenant had been tackled and almost strangled. The fight had pretty much ended, his attacker was the only one left there. Ghost, being The Ghost, dispatched him with ease, but it stuck out to Price. Ghost may prefer to stay further back, but that didn’t mean that his hand-to-hand combat skills were lacking by any means.

He remembered thinking at the time that it was a clumsy mistake, that Ghost would have had to be intentionally trying to fuck up to get knocked down. He assumed the man had just been caught off guard, but he knew that theory wouldn’t hold up to any scrutiny. Ghost isn’t one to get caught off guard.

What was stranger yet still was Ghost specifically pointing it out in his mission report, calling even more attention to it.

Price set his pen down and leaned back in his chair.

“You planned this?”

“I plead the fifth,” said the British man.

Price just continued to stare, curious to see if this was actually going where he thought it was going.

“Is this off the record?” Simon eventually asked.

“Of course,” almost everything the 141 did was of dubious legality. Not reporting a conversation about possible wasted assets was far from the worst thing that had been swept under the rug.

“Then yes.”

“Why?”

Simon didn’t answer. Price waited, giving the man time to gather his thoughts, but based on the way his mouth opened and closed before he slumped in his chair, it seemed he didn’t know what to say at all.

Price had an inkling he might know what this was about.

“You know, Gaz likes to keep me informed,” Ghost looked up at him, somewhat panicked yet resigned, like he already knew what Price was going to say.

“He tells me you have a certain someone you’ve been visiting?”

“Yes.”

“Is this person a friend or…?” Ghost once again paused, calculating the potential consequences of his available responses.

He didn’t answer.

“Hmm,” Price paused, wondering how far to push before he continued, “You want to give this person your old dog tags?”

“Yes.”

Of course he would pre-plan “losing” his dog tags. Price mentally chuckled, leave it to Simon to be such a sap that he wanted to give someone his dog tags yet still make sure to follow protocol so he never actually risked going without them.

He had to hand it to him, it wasn’t a bad plan.

Price had a smile now, knowing his grumpy hard-ass lieutenant had a sweetheart he wanted to be sappy with.

“Romantic or platonic?” Price tried again.

“… I don’t know,” he’d never seen Simon look quite so… forlorn.

Hmm… That would explain his hesitancy.

He was pushing how much Simon was willing to divulge.

“And does this person know the significance of you giving them your dog tags?”

Well, curiosity killed the cat…

“No, they don’t.”

…But satisfaction brought it back. How interesting, the plot thickens.

“Do you plan on telling them?”

There was a long pause, after which it dawned on Price, “You want to give them your dog tags because they don’t know.”

It wasn’t a question, he already knew. Simon somehow slumped further, attempting to hide his face as if he weren’t wearing a balaclava.

His grumpy hard-ass lieutenant. Absolutely smitten with someone yet too shy to say anything, deciding on a quiet confession, one they likely wouldn’t pick up on.

Price chuckled, jotting down the necessary information he would need when he got his hands on the right paperwork, polishing up some of the details of Ghost’s story to make it more believable, before reading off what he had written to Ghost to make sure he got everything right. Ghost nodded once, and that was that.

“Replacement tags will probably be here in two to three weeks.”

“I would like to request leave for two to three weeks from now.”

Price handed him the form, having already grabbed it. He noticed how the man seemed to calm at just the thought of getting to visit his mystery person.

Oh, he thought to himself.

I am definitely joining Roach and Gaz’s bet.

<><><><>

They were lying on the daybed in his streaming room, or, well…

No, that’s not quite right.

Simon was lying on the daybed.

Johnny was lying on top of Simon.

His computer was still softly playing quiet (non-DMCA) music from where his stream had just ended. Instead of turning it off, he had decided to unplug his headset and leave it on, the music just loud enough to be heard.

Simon was sleepily scrolling through his phone, trying to pretend like he hadn’t almost dropped several times while dozing off, desperately trying to stay awake. Johnny had watched his struggle and decided to lay down right on top of Simon, not even trying to pretend like he was trying to fit on the remaining space on the daybed. Why would he when Simon was right there?

It was meant to be a joke, having thrown himself on top of him to annoy the man into sleeping on an actual bed (he claimed he wasn’t tired but the comically loose grip on his phone and the waking world said otherwise.) However, unfortunately for said sleepy man, Simon was very, very comfortable.

His head was resting on Simon’s chest, arms under his back like he actually was just a pillow, one hand reaching higher to feel where Simon’s hair had begun to grow out slightly.

I wonder if he would let me help him cut it…

Simon had said he was like a clingy cat, his free hand running through his hair in the same manner one would pet a cat to prove his point. The joke's on him though, he likes it.

Simon had tried to stop but Johnny didn’t let him, threatening to tickle him if he did.

(“I’m not ticklish, I just don’t want you throwing a tantrum.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say,” he was definitely ticklish, and one of these days he was going to prove it.)

At some point, Simon had given up on keeping a grip on his phone, letting it drop to the side. They would probably have to go digging through the cushions to get it out of whatever crevice it had fallen to. As of right now, the idea of ever leaving his spot was comical at best.

The sun had begun to set, orange and pink tinted light filtering through the sheer curtains, making everything look more like a dream. Or maybe it was just the proximity to the man below him that was making him feel so serene.

Johnny took a second to inhale and exhale slowly, appreciating the moment. He hoped that this memory, this beautiful tranquility with Simon, would be something he cherished for a long time to come.

He knew that they had things to do. Soon, Simon would be catching a flight at some ungodly hour, headed back to save the world yet again. But for now, he was happy to nap away in their own little bubble. He never was a religious man but here in the arms of Simon Riley, he was tempted to think heaven was real, and that it was right in front of him.

“I almost forgot,” Simon mumbled, not sounding any more awake than he looked, reaching up for the collar of his shirt. Thankfully, the hand that was running his hair remained. He didn’t like proving the cocky bastard right, but he probably would have thrown a tantrum had he tried to remove it.

“They had some fuck up along the line or something and accidentally printed me an extra set of dog tags. I was just gonna toss ‘em but thought you might want—”

Johnny was now wide awake, sitting up and yanking the chain out of his hands.

“Don’t you fucking dare throw them away, of course I want them!” Simon’s face reddened, a frequent treat for Johnny now that he had gotten more comfortable going without the mask. Simon might have been good at keeping a poker face, but without his mask, he was a blushing mess.

He wondered if the blush was from his obvious jubilation at the gift or if it was because he was now straddling the man. Such pesky details, however, (even ones that would keep future Johnny awake at night) were far less important than examining the necklace in his hands.

It was obvious this was the older set, the metal worn and dented in some spots though the writing was still clearly visible.

“Calm down, I’m not going to take it from you,” the gruff tone was severely undermined by the aforementioned blush. It was hard to sound tough while half asleep on a daybed and being used as another man’s pillow.

Johnny stared at them for a little bit longer, feeling every dent and wondering the story behind how they got there, before putting them on.

He smiled at the man under him, “How do I look?”

He was going to joke, asking if he looked like a rough and tough soldier ready for war, but something in Simon’s eyes made him stop short.

He was looking with… with… Reverence was far too intense of a word for the softness of the moment but it was the only word that came to mind.

Simon reached up with his hand, grabbing the tags, his knuckles grazing his chest.

Well, that’s just fucking unfair.

Simon was supposed to be the blushy one. Not him, goddammit!

Though, he thinks when they make eye contact, they end up tied for who is blushing the most. They stare for a while, maybe it should have felt awkward but it was too adoring for either to feel any form of uncomfortability.

Neither moved.

It was Johnny that broke first, smiling at him, yet again tracing all of the scars he could see. It was his new favorite hobby, especially when Simon would blush making the scars on his face all the more visible.

He took one more second to sleepily appreciate the man before him, then went back to using him as a pillow. His hands went back to where they were before, one under Simon’s back and one playing with his hair. His head, however, did not fall back to his chest, instead resting in the crook of his neck and shoulder.

Simon’s hand returned to running through his hair, his other now coming up to rest on his back, rubbing up and down a few times before the sleepiness from earlier fully returned with his hand stopping somewhere around the small of his back.

Johnny leaned up slightly and gave a chaste kiss to the part of his neck that he could reach, then settled back to where he was. The hand in his hair paused.

“Thank you, Simon.”

A second of delay, and then the hand continued.

“You’re welcome, Johnny.”

Simon shuffled slightly, getting comfy before—

A kiss, on his forehead.

He couldn’t stop the blush and smile if he wanted to. He snuggled closer before drifting off to sleep.

When he woke, he was in his bed, practically tucked in. His window had been opened slightly, blackout curtains that had been drawn closed now swaying slightly with the breeze. When he focused, he realized he could smell petrichor and hear heavy rainfall outside with the occasional grumble of thunder.

There was a note on his nightstand. As he expected, it was Simon’s handwriting, apologizing for not waking him up before he left. It said that he had made breakfast for him (pancakes, with enough for when his sister would inevitably try to steal them), that he made sure to lock the front door, and left the window cracked.

He giggled sleepily at the last line. Regardless of the context, it always made Simon anxious to have the curtains open, much less to leave a window open. But, he also must've known how much Johnny loved the rain and set his worries aside, just this once, so he could wake up to the rain.

He set the note down and flopped back onto his pillows, his hand felt something cold and he remembered.

The dog tags.

John MacTavish is no stranger to crushes and heartbreaks.

He's had high school sweethearts, been in and out of love, he knows his way around the world of dating. Which is why he most certainly does not squeal and kick his legs while holding the tags like some kid with their first crush.

He did it like a grown man, thank you very much.

He grabbed his phone and sent Simon the worst pun he could think of; it was tradition at this point to send him some god-awful joke before his flight.

Simon has probably already forgotten about the whole exchange. He probably woke up and assumed he threw them away when he noticed he wasn't wearing them. It was probably stupid, an insignificant gesture with no meaning. But to Johnny, it felt like everything.

He sighed dreamily at the ceiling and felt the cool metal once more. Thunder roared outside. He thought about how he had felt in the man's arms. Thought about how much he wanted that again.

God.

His phone dinged and he immediately reached over to grab it.

I'm fucked, aren't I?

<><><><>

Elsewhere, Ghost was in an airport terminal, having far too much time to think.

Over the weekend, it was almost impressive how many times Ghost had talked himself into and back out of giving Soap his dog tags. He really hoped he hadn't made a mistake.

Simon felt the spot that Johnny had kissed and wondered if he remembered it. Wondered if he had meant it.

Simon thought about how Johnny had looked cradled in his arms when he carried him to his room, the way he had reached out for him when he laid him in bed. The way he had grabbed his wrist and clung to it, grumbling when Simon tried to pull it back.

If asked, he'd say that he had woken up late and that's why he was so far behind schedule. He'd keep the part where he sat there, kneeled in front of Johnny's bed, waiting for him to fall back into a deep enough sleep to pull his arm away all to himself. After all, it would have been rude to wake him up, no?

He had made sure to plug up his phone and, upon seeing the forecasted weather, hesitated before opening the window. It was only barely cracked, just enough for the sounds of the outside world to shamble in, but not so wide as to worry about water damage. He stared at it, convincing himself not to worry and that Johnny would like waking up to the fresh air.

He turned back to make sure the man was still asleep, still comfy, but stopped for a moment. He approached the bed and hesitated before running his fingers through his stupid haircut, almost wishing the man would grab his arm and give him an excuse to stay.

He didn't. Simon did, however, lean in to give him one last kiss on the forehead as some stupidly sappy goodbye, before his brain turned back on and he ripped himself away.

What the fuck is wrong with you? What? He grabs your arm in your sleep so you feel entitled to be able to kiss him?

Simon backed away, staring at the hand that had just been in his hair. He felt dirty.

For fuck’s sake, relax. It's not that big of a deal, you did it earlier; the man fell asleep in your arms, a forehead kiss isn't too much of a stretch.

He went to the kitchen and scrubbed his hands for a while, only stopping when he thought about how much water he was wasting. He still felt dirty.

Not a stretch? You don't get to decide that. How would you feel if someone tried to kiss you while you were unconscious? If they said that they felt they should be allowed to do so because you fell asleep?

He had started making pancakes. Something quick, easy, and reheatable for when Soap woke up. Like making him breakfast would make up for trying to kiss him in his sleep.

Why can't you just be normal?

Eventually, and after a run-in with Soap’s hell-spawn of a twin, he had to leave. The time on his phone showed that he should probably already be halfway to the airport by now but he has always been a selfish man.

He had snagged some paper and left Soap a quick note, hoping the apology would make him feel better about worse sins than not waking him up. It didn't.

He stared at the man for a second, admiring him, before he reminded himself that he was a fucking creep and left.

The storm left the flight delayed by 1.5 hours. Ghost had sat waiting, wireless headphones on and connected, but not playing anything. He had far too much time to think.

Simon thought about how Johnny had looked, his dog tags around his neck, silhouetted by the fading light, the sun behind his head as if even the stars knew they could never compare to him.

He stood and started pacing. Amongst the screaming children, feuding families, and people who think they're entitled to listen to their music without headphones, one middle-aged man having an existential crisis didn't stick out.

He thought about how he had never understood weighted blankets so well until Johnny had thrown himself on top of him. It should've hurt. He should've been annoyed. Instead, Simon selfishly hoped he would never get up.

It took him a while to put his finger on what he had been feeling exactly. Finally, he realized.

There, in that moment, he had never been so happy to be alive. It was a startling emotion to discern amongst the swath of negativity he normally felt. It startled him so much, he had snapped out of his reverie and stopped short in his pacing. When he checked the time, he saw he had one missed text from Johnny.

Soap (art streamer): i was trying to think of an airplane joke but none of them landed

Simon chuckled and sat down; he almost forgot about their dumb little tradition.

Ghost: Disliked.

Soap (art streamer): everyone is so mean 2 me 💔

Ghost: It is not my fault your pun was so Boeing.

Soap (art streamer): well i thought i could wing it

Ghost: Did you look up what giving do-

Ghost: About the tags, you

Ghost: I think you make me want to live

Ghost sighed and fell back further into his seat, coming to a conclusion that his subconscious had long ago discovered.

I'm in love, aren't I?

Soap (art streamer): speechless huh? finally, the Wright reaction to my comedic genius

Ghost: Absolutely awful, Mactavish.

Soap (art streamer): :D

Took you long enough, dumbass.

<><><><>

Soap’s twin spent a good bit of time staring at her brother's new accessory.

“Is something wrong?” he challenged, hoping she wasn't in a bothersome mood.

She failed miserably at hiding her shit-eating grin but didn't care.

“Nope!” she replied.

She had run into Ghost early that morning before he left.

"Detergent."

She was pretty sure he never even learned her name, just jumped straight into calling her detergent.

"Ghoul," she greeted, glaring at the man.

Being required by law to not trust him, she checked on her brother as he was still gathering his things and noticed the necklace.

“You gave him your dog tags,” she accused, like she was framing him for murder.

“Yes, I did,” he replied casually, as per usual robbing her of the fight she so desperately wanted to pick.

“Did you tell him what it means?”

“...What does it mean?”

Damn, he was good. If she wasn't convinced that he was the devil incarnate, she might have fallen for his feigned ignorance.

“100 bucks and you buy my silence.”

“I don't know what you mean.”

“200 then.”

“It doesn't even mean anything.”

“Hmm. Well, I suppose you might be right… JOHN!” their neighbors were probably going to complain.

“What the fuck are you doing?” ooh he was getting panicked now.

“If it doesn't matter then you won't mind me telling him to look it up,” she started walking to his room, “JOHNSON!”

“Fucking Christ, woman! Just— Fucking— Here.”

He pulled out his wallet and started counting bills. Damn, that was easier than she thought.

“What did you say? 100?”

“Nope! That was before inflation. Now it’s 300.”

“What the hell is wrong with you? You said 200!”

“So you admit you tried to scam me?”

“Just take the 100 and g-”

She didn't even get to yell, he reached for more before she could finish taking a deep breath in.

“Just shut the fuck up! Here! Three fucking hundred!”

She was tempted to raise her price further, but she was no gambler, she was a strategist. She knew a defeated man when she saw one. If she played this right, she could extort money out of him for a long time to come.

Something, something, vampires not fully killing their victims and all that.

She took the money, counted it, and then held out her hand to shake.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Wraith!”

He didn't shake her hand.

“Christ, both of you are awful.”

He packed his stuff and left, broke, broken, and defeated.

She ate as many pancakes as she could, rich and victorious.

She thought about how much power, how much blackmail she had in this moment.

“I’m fantastic actually,” she walked to her room.

I am going to be so fucking rich by the time they get their shit together.

#ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #streamer au #streamer! soap #streamer!soap #streamer! au #ft. Old Man Price and Chronic Shit Stirrer Twin Sister (unnamed)#ghost never changes soaps contact name #my version of ghost in this au has convinced himself that he's nothing more than an incel/neckbeard #and that's why he is the way that he is #[I know my mess of 'family hcs' or whatever was derailed to shit but I still think ghost would call his twin detergent]#i’m scheduling this for when i’ll be asleep so goodnight i hope you all sleep well and drink plenty of water #my writing

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wonuwrites · 23 days

Text

Love Me Anyway Song Reaction (Performance Unit)

this is from this anon request xo I love this song so much and so happy anon showed me a cute new song :D

vocal unit || performance unit || hip hop unit

Warnings: some body confidence issues again in Jun's, smidge angst in Minghao's, cussing, mostly fluffy though.

Just like other song preferences, members drabbles will be in order of the song lyrics. Also some lyrics will be similar to vocal units and tbh I'm not sorry. I feel like I made them different enough <3

ok enjoy :D

ღ Jun: "And I love you because you're understanding when I'm too shy to show my skin."

You sighed as you looked at all the clothes on your floor. You were packing for your annual girls trip but all the clothes you bought when you were with the girls just made you feel so self conscious and made you want to take some scissors to some parts. As you were starting to spiral, Jun walked into your shared room and raised an eyebrow at the mess. "Nothing looks good on me, baby." You would sigh before falling onto your shared bed. This would make him scoff before picking up some of the clothes. He knew fighting over how true that statement was useless when it came to you feeling this way so he decided just to be there for you physically. He would just kiss your forehead and lay next to you. "Do-do you want one of my shirts when you go?" You would almost cry because he knew that you found comfort in his clothes and you were just so thankful for him.

ღ Hoshi: "Sometimes I forget, wasn't always this way. It's hard to admit I was the one to blame."

You sat on the couch in the practice room and watched Soonyoung and the rest of Seventeen practice for their upcoming tour. Even if there were thirteen extremely talented and handsome guys in front of you, Soonyoung caught your eye the most. You smiled as you watched him do what he loved doing and couldn't help but think about how lucky you were to be his. You both were so happy and made time for each other even if schedules were packed. You both made each other a priority. Sometimes it feels like it's always been this way but you knew it wasn't. In fact, you used to be super against the idea. You thought Soonyoung was a great guy but dating an idol? That would be awful. You ignored his advances for months until he basically got onto his knees and said "(Y/N), please. Just one chance. Let me change your mind. I promise I will do everything in my power to make it magical." Which he did. Hell even when it came out that you were dating, Carats were super supportive and even joked with Soonyoung that they liked you more. He would act offended but he couldn't blame them. You were an absolute catch and every day he thanked the universe for allowing you to give him a chance.

ღ Dino: "I love you because when I say "I don't wanna talk" you always call me.

You can't help it, you are a little over dramatic. Ok, maybe A LOT dramatic. What can you say though? It's in your DNA. It's something you try to work on but sometimes, it just happens. Just like tonight, you can't even explain what Chan did but it just set you off where you thought you might want space. You walked out of the bar that you were with Chan and the rest of Seventeen and waited for your uber to come and get you. You hadn't told anyone you were leaving including Chan so it wasn't a shock when he started to spam your phone with calls and texts. [10:13 Channie: "where did you go?"] You sighed and noticed your uber pulled up to you. You said hello to the driver before getting in and responding. [10:14 Y/N: "just got into an uber, I'm going home for the night. I don't wanna talk tho. goodnight."] You then put your phone on do not disturb before looking out the window. However, even with DND activated, you still felt your phone vibrating with texts and calls from Chan. You were about a block away from your apartment when you finally answered your boyfriend. "Chan-" "(Y/N), I just need to know you're safe, if we are okay, if I need to kick someones ass, if you still love me," you heard him ramble on and on which made you smile a bit. You honestly couldn't remember why you were upset with him and you assured him that you still loved him and that you were almost home.

ღ Minghao: "After all this time, you were right. Can we take more Polaroids for you to hide."

Fighting with Minghao was never fun because you both got super emotionally invested in your fights. It was emotionally exhausting to try to not be sad because of what happened and figure out how to solve the problem. This time around, you realized quickly that there was no need for a "solution" just a simple apology which was all he asked for. You decided after work you would just apologize. When you got home you were a little surprised to find polaroids "hidden" around your shared home. With sticky notes explaining each picture or reasons why he loved you. After finding about five Polaroids you couldn't help but feel tears fall down your cheeks. You realized Minghao was feeling a similar way to the fight and this was his way of saying "I don't want to fight anymore because look what we have, it's good." You found a few more before you realized he was right behind you with a soft smile. He had been following you around since you got there but you were so caught up in memory lane you didn't realize. "hey," he whispered while grabbing your hands. "I'm sorry," you whispered while pulling him into a hug. "I'm sorry too," he whispered back before kissing the top of your head. "can we take more Polaroids soon?" This caused him to giggle before agreeing.

this was so soft. ty again anon <3

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torpublishinggroup · 7 months

Text

Do you hear that??

It’s the sweet, sweet sound of gifts and the necessity of buying them for all of the humans, animals, and unidentified entities in your life. That’s a lot of pressure, but don’t sweat, because we’ve got your back, and more importantly, we’ve got a ton of increasingly niche book recommendations to get you through the holiday season! Check them out here and let us know which ones you’re grabbing in the comments.

by Rachel Taylor and a cat

Bookshops & Bonedust by Travis Baldree is for the treasured party member who’s saved your character’s life many times on TTRPG night

We all have That One Amazing Player who has pulled our butts out of the fictional fire on D&D night, and what better way to show your endless appreciation than with the gift of LITERATURE?! High fantasy, secondhand books, and first love–what more could you ask for?

━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━

Masters of Death by Olivie Blake is for the angsty goth who still wishes it was Halloween

So they’re in denial that it’s not Halloween anymore, but guess what?! In the unbroken face of eternity, time has no meaning! Every day is Halloween!

━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━

In the Lives of Puppets by TJ Klune is for the plucky traveler who’s got the whole world to see

There are many ways to see new and exciting worlds, and TJ Klune always provides queer and cozy adventures that you only need to pick up a book to explore. Consider picking up his latest venture for that friend who’s been bit by the travel bug!

━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━

Ebony Gate by Julia Vee & Ken Bebelle is for the action movie fanatic who owns a cardboard cutout of John Wick

Assassins, dragon magic, and Chinese diaspora urban fantasy set in contemporary San Francisco.

━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━

Book of Night by Holly Black is for the insatiable reader who has way more books to read than hands to hold them

And if you order and submit your receipt before 12/15, you can receive a Book of Night tote bag! Even Charlie Hall needs a safe sling to carry her contraband. Who’s Charlie Hall? A professional thief / bartender who pilfers shadow magic secrets! Read the book!

━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━

T. L. Huchu’s Edinburgh Nights series is for the Supernatural fan who’s looking to expand their fandom across the pond

Ropa dropped out of school to become a ghostalker, but she’s not just carrying messages anymore. You talk to one ghost and suddenly you’re spending late nights in the occult library, solving murders, and following trails of huskified children to their sinister spectral source.

━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━

The Terraformers by Annalee Newitz is for the science-enjoyer in your life who’s looking for environmentally-conscious fiction

This sweeping, uplifting, and illuminating exploration of the future from a science fiction visionary is the perfect gift to give your non-fiction loving, environmentally aware bestie who wants to dip their toe into a more fictional space.

━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━

Tress of the Emerald Sea by Brandon Sanderson is for fans looking for The Princess Bride vibes but just haven’t quite found them yet

Do you have a Princess Bride superfan in your life? They don’t need another fandom-y Etsy gift this year–they need a book that gives them the same emotional rush they got the first time they laid eyes on the fairytale-inspired glory that is their favorite 1987 classic.

━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━

Everfair by Nisi Shawl is for the history buff in your life who can’t stop thinking about other paths the world might have taken

After being purchased back from the Congo Free State’s colonizer, Everfair becomes a land of fantastic technologies—of spying cats and gulls, nuclear dirigibles buoyed by barkcloth balloons, and silent pistols that shoot poison knives. What happens when these technological advances are brought to bear against Belgian tyrant Leopold II?

That’s Everfair, and then you can read Kinning (on sale 1/23/24) for the continuation of this expansive alternate history.

━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━

The Fragile Threads of Power by V. E. Schwab is for people looking to put a different kind of magic into their holidays

Let’s put the magic into the holidays, shall we? V. E. Schwab returns to The Shades of Magic universe with a whole new series, perfect for readers who loved the original and new fans who want to explore magical alternate universes from in front of a cozy fireplace.

━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━

Shelley Parker-Chan’s Radiant Emperor Duology is for the unhinged danmei consumer who’s looking for their next great read

Do you have someone in your life that consumes danmei like candy? Are they tired of waiting for their new favorite series to be translated so they can add it to their shelves? Do we have the series for you. She Who Became the Sun and He Who Drowned the World explore a stunning reinvention of the Ming Dynasty’s founding emperor. It’s queer, it’s fantastical, and it’s complete! Snag both books in the duology for them now.

━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━

Thornhedge by T. Kingfisher is for the friend with an ill-advised yet much-beloved Shrek 2 tattoo

“Better out than in” on the inside of the wrist, Thornhedge open in hand.

━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━

Starling House by Alix E. Harrow is for anyone who has never been disappointed by the combo of Mike Flanagan and a Scary House

Home is where the heart is, and really puts you in a vulnerable position when your house HATES you.

━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━

Starter Villain by John Scalzi is for Megamind

If you’re not Megamind, keep scrolling. Just kidding—this book is also for cat lovers and fans of Despicable Me and The Venture Brothers.

━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━

The Great Hunt by Robert Jordan is for people who loved Season 2 of The Wheel of Time on Amazon Prime

If you have someone in your life that got sucked into the masterpiece that was The Wheel of Time Season 2, don’t worry, you can help them relive the fun with The Great Hunt, the inspiration for the show and the second book in The Wheel of Time series!

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alice-angel12x · 1 year

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Where everything begins

Idia + Death! reader pt.2 (Part 1. here)

"Life? So there is a celestial opposite to you?" Leona asked.

"Indeed, for we will need Life's help for Ortho and Vil," Y/n nodded.

"Alright, a quick detour should be alright. It's always interesting to see new places," Azul said.

"And it would be interesting to meet Life," Rook agreed.

"Alright, but how are we gonna get there. Where does Life live Y/n?" Riddle asked.

"Well, I must ask one more time. Are you sure you all want to come?" Y/n asked as the boys nodded.

Y/n smirked as they told the boys to draw close, as they were gonna fast travel to Life. Riddle once again asked Y/n where life lived, and Y/n answered a place beyond twisted wonderland. But Before The boys could back out, they suddenly started floating upwards as a dark portal began to open up.

As they remained suspended in the air, they were suddenly sucked up into the portal. Flashes passed by their vision. Riddle looked to his left to see a... Another... World.

Riddle saw a large city with windmills and a giant winged person standing above it. Its arms stretched out in front of it.

Azul looked to his left to see an old English castle. One he's never seen before when fireworks exploded above the castle. Spelling "Welcome to Hogwarts".

Vil and Epel Looked down to see a world of... Sentient cookies, cake monsters, and other strange dessert creatures. While Leona and Rook flipped onto their backs to look up and saw a world of strange people. A bunch of students was heading toward an H-shaped building, the Sign UA in bold letters.

As they traveled between space, suddenly the tunnel began to waver and twist.

"What's happening?" Ghost Ortho asked.

"It appears Space is rearranging and shuffling the worlds around like a pack of playing cards. I was hoping to just have a simple straight path, but it seems we might have to travel through a few worlds to get to Life," Y/n sighed.

"Other?" Idia asked nervesly.

"Worlds?" Ortho asked with excitement.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure the worlds we rest in a safe. For your sake," Y/n said as they quickly scanned the worlds and universes being shuffled around them.

The first world The group rest in was the world of Sentient Cookies, having a stop at the cookie kingdom. The boys were shocked to find themselves transformed into cookies. Their hair and clothes were made of sugar and frosting.

Idia, Ortho, Riddle, and Epel were happy enough to partake in simple adventures around the Cookie kingdom. Leona found many comfy napping places, while Vil and Rook explore the kingdom and its shops. Azul was too interested in how money works in this world.

The next world was Totally not your standard Isekai magic world. I mean a fantasy world, with orcs, dragons, and Slimes. Vil and Idia were not happy with the unadvanced. Idia with the lack of advanced tech, while Vil did not like the lack of basic amenities or basic hygiene.

So Y/n would point out some unique things about this world. How, yes this world is unadvanced in the technology department, but their potions far surpass Twisted wonderland. Much to The NRC boy's surprise.

"How so?" Azul asked.

"While in Twisted, technology evolved and improved faster than magic. So your world relies on machines instead of spells, so your magic never really evolved," Y/n explained.

"in this world, magic is used for everything, farming, cosmetics, forging, and hygiene," Y/n added.

This was amazing to the other worlders, as Riddle wanted to get his hands on all the magic books. Vil wanted all the potion books and herbs.

Soon this supposedly fast and simple trip became a tour across the universe and dimensions. With each world, the boys always find something to collect. But eventually, they got to the Origin, to Life.

It looked like a large tree, the size of a castle floating in space, and at the top of the tree was a large orb of light.

"Is this Life?" Vil asked.

"This is where Life lives and works," Y/n said as they hurried them to the tree.

As they landed on the great roots all the boys stared in awe. The great size of the roots, look like wide meadows. Suddenly there was a surge of mist that blanketed the ground.

"Step inside my home," said a strong voice.

Everyone looked ahead to see a hollow at the base of the root. Ghost Ortho clung to Idia as a few of the boys began to tremble slightly. Y/n stepped ahead of them, and with a gentle smile lead them toward the hollow. Inside were two spiral staircases that led up the tree.

"Augh! Please tell me we do not have to climb all those flights of stairs?" Leona groaned.

"Who are you, and what brings you?" Asked the strong voice.

Everyone looked up to see a figure standing at the top of the first flight of stairs. The mist obscured the figure. The boys recognized a human torso, but they noticed that the figure's legs were very skinny. With strange protrusion on the top of the figure's head. Y/n simply rolled their eyes and swiftly waved their arm, clearing all the mist.

"Enough Life," Y/n sighed. " We're just visiting, and I could really use your help with something."

"Augh, come on Death, I never ever get to make a grand impression," Sighed the antlered figure.

Life had emerald green eyes, with long flowing brown hair framing his face. The hooved god quickly rushed down the stairs and ran straight to Death, pulling them into a warm hug.

"So this deer God is Life?" Leona asked.

"Indeed, But I can be as ferocious as any other beast," Life smiled as he showed off his razor-sharp teeth.

Not even Leona or any other predator-beast man had a mouth full of dagger-like teeth compared to this Life person. As Life looked over the guests Death brought he noticed an odd one out of the group, the 80-year-old man with this group of young people.

"Umm, who is this gentleman?" Life asked.

"I'm...I'm Vil Schoenheit," Vil said as the old man began to sob.

"Vil! What happened to you? You're only 18!" Life gasped.

"He got too close to Tartarus," Death explained.

"What! Death, I thought you got rid of the underworld!" Life huffed in slight annoyance.

"Well, I can't help that Hades did a good job at hiding it all these years. And I can't do anything about it now 'cause people live on it," Death laughed slightly.

"Well alright," Life sighed and turned his attention to Vil. " We should fix this. Jerry!"

Suddenly a strange transparent abstract being, that was called Jerry appeared and handed Life a staff with a floating orb at the top end. Life smiled and gently grabbed the staff and raised the orb above Vil's head. Light started to emerge from the orb when a small drop of a potion dripped onto Vil's head.

Vil looked down at his hands to see the skin tighten as the wrinkles started to disappear. Vil pulled out his pocket mirror to see his Youthful self staring back at him. All the while Vil cheered in happiness, the boys noticed little blue spirit/ wisp things floating all around Life and the Jerry person.

"Um, Y/n. What are those blue things?" Epel asked.

"Those are souls who have yet to live. When they're ready to live and gain a mortal form, Life will send them off randomly to be born," Y/n explained.

"Wow, so what is this place called?" Azul asked.

"It goes by many names, "The beginning" " The cradle", and my personal favorite "The Great Before," Death listed off.

"Oh, we call it the Youth seminar now, Death. Rebranding and all that," Jerry added, as Life was being covered in spirits.

Many of the spirits gathered and climbed up Life, laughing and all trying to talk to Life all at Once. Like a bunch of small children trying to gain the attention of their favorite parent. Some were even curious enough to gather around the NRC boys.

Riddle, Epel, and Rook let the souls get close and even held a few. While Leona would simply flick them off him, the souls would just laugh it off unharmed. As Idia and Ortho watched, they noticed that the souls would cower away from Y/n.

Death tried to smile it off, but their eyes couldn't quite hide the slight hurt. So Ortho quickly floated over to Death and bear-hugged their torso. Death was surprised but smiled softly as they nervesly returned the action. Death eventually turned to Life and explained the reason behind their trip, and that was to have Ortho reincarnated. Idia, Ortho, and the others gasped in surprise.

"So I'm going to live out the anime dream!" Ortho awed.

"Well, you won't remember your previous life. But we will let you choose a world to live in. So choose wisely," Life said. " But what is this, we're still at the entrance. Please come upstairs for some drinks and snacks," Life smiled as he offered a hand to Death.

Azul, Idia, and Leona groaned as they looked up at the seemingly infinite flights of stairs. Jerry chuckled and altered their form to be a four-legged creature. Who scooped up the boys and placed them onto their backs, as the souls happily climbed on as well.

They slowly began to rise up the flights, as the mortals looked around in awe. Hundreds of strange-looking pavilions, all in different shapes and sizes.

"Um, Mr.Life, if I may ask? What are those strange structures?" Azul asked.

"Oh those are were the souls get their personality," Life explained as he turned and gather 4 souls from Jerry. " You four can be excitable."

The four sous went through the pavilion and came out super happy and bouncy.

"And you bunch can be aloof," Jerry said as they sent the rest of the souls into a different Pavillion.

"Wait so were not born with our own personality?" Vil asked.

"Well to be fair, when you live, your personality can change due to your environment and experiences," Death explained.

"And we arrived at the top, our stop is here," Jerry said as they see the boys down.

The boys turned to see a large table with a king's worthy feast set up for them. "How long was this up here?" Leona asked.

"Oh not long. I asked Jerry to set a spread for you all," Life said as another abstract Pikaso creature appeared. "Thank you, Jerry."

"No problem boss," Jerry smiled.

"Are they just all named Jerry?" Azul asked.

"There used to be a Terry, but he works for death now," Life smiled as Death grimaced a bit.

"I don't wanna talk about Terry," Death mumbled. "Shrouds, you have something to discuss with Life."

The brothers nodded and left with Life to the farther end of the room. After much discussion and conversation, Ortho picked a world he would like to live in. Even though Idia was happy it was a pretty safe and peaceful world, he was still nervous about letting go of his brother again.

Life walked over to a large pool that was right underneath the orb of light. With a wave of his staff, the orb began to glow a pure gold color as the pool began to ripple as an image began to appear with a watery surface.

As Idia and Ortho stood at the edge of the pool, Idia noticed his brother tremble slightly.

"Big brother, I'm a little scared," Ortho said as he fiddled with the pendant that Life gave him.

"I'll go as far as I can with you," Idia smiled.

The two fell forward and into the void of space, as they began falling towards the chosen planet. Idia slowly opened his eyes only to feel like he was actually flying. Ortho soon opened his eyes as he awed the planet they were flying to. The two laughed as they did superhero poses as they flew towards the planet when the pendant began to glow.

"I'll make you proud!" Ortho said with a nervous, but determined smile.

"I know you will, you'll be amazing," Idia said as the two hands slowly were being pulled apart.

Soon Ortho and Idia had to let go as Ortho zoomed ahead to the planet below.

__________________________

Idia suddenly Woke up to find himself back in his dorm. No matter how much he thought back on his experiences, he can't help but think it was nothing more than a dream.

"It's about time you woke up. Come on you still have to help fix Ramshackle," Robot Ortho smiled.

"Ugh, alright. I'll dropbox the blueprints to you," Idia groaned as he slipped out of bed.

"You're not coming outside?" Ortho asked.

"No way," Idia said as he sat at his computer.

"Alright," Ortho sighed as he exited the room.

As Idia began to type away, the memory resurfaced in his mind, as Real Ortho's words echoed in his ears. So muster up some confidence and slowly made his way out of his dorm, to help out in person.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst yuu #thrdeath!reader #death au #life oc #Origin Au #riddle x reader #disney twisted wonderland #leona x reader #azul x reader #vil x reader #idia x reader

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thatringboy · 17 days

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i know the Astral Express is an Aeon-given magic spaceship that supplies all the needs of the crew, but lowkey I kinda want more quests that deal with the fact that Space Very Much Wants To Kill You. I don’t mean the giant space worms or propagation bugs floating around, but like how cold space is, or the lack of oxygen, the vacuum of space, how stupidly far everything is from each other

I think there’s a single NPC on Herta Station with a mini-quest where we help him move across the universe to be with his gf who lives by a black hole and is now an old woman due to time dilation, and my inner nerd was so happy to see the scariness of pure space recognized, but I haven’t really seen anything else in the game acknowledging how easy it is to just go missing and die out there. Maybe Star Rail’s tech is so stupidly far advanced + the help of Aeons makes it so traveling through space is a lot safer and a lot of the above threats aren’t really threats anymore, but I wanna know specifics

Which faction has the best ships? How strong are the windows in the Astral Express? How does warp jumping work? What type of fuel do Star Rail ships use? How in the fuck did Sampo get from Belobog to Penacony in only a few weeks? Did the ship he take also have the ability to warp jump? Do all ships have that? How do the side doors on the Astral Express work? Can they just be opened at any time? Are they locked when the Express is out in space? How does the Express leave the orbit of a planet? Just how functional are the Star rails that it moves on? How did Black Swan get to Penacony if she needs to hitch a ride with the Express afterwards, was that more of a personal choice on her end and the other Memokeepers left without her? What are the scales of ship sizes in the hsr universe? I know there’s the giant generation ships that the Xianzhou uses and the tiny starskiffs their army use, but what about everyone else? Have we even seen other ships??? How do phones work across galaxies? How do the fucking tv screen radios work?? Are there inter-astral cell towers? How does gravity work in the Express, does it spin to generate its own? Is that also aeon magic??

#I don’t expect answers to these questions and I will continue to suspend disbelief while playing because I love this game #However how does the science work #hsr #honkai star rail

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moonbyunniee · 2 years

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hii could i get some headcanons for childe, zhongli and kaeya with an s/o who’s love language is physical touch? (both giving & receiving)

thank you in advance !! <3 ✨

hold me close, hold you close (i'll never let go)

description ➵ genshin characters with physical touch as their love language (giving + receiving)

characters ➵ childe, zhongli, kaeya

cw ➵ fluff

a/n ➵ ooh cutecute idea my lovely <3 okay let's try and make this as non-suggestive as possible >:) enjoy!!

childe - 达达利亚 ➵

giving

childe, being the playful young man we all know him as, doesn't hesitate for a second to tease you with his touch

he'll rest his hand around your shoulders like he would his closest friend

and rub his hand in circles on your back, softly massaging you

although he's rough with his enemies, childe always goes into soft mode with you

he's very proud of you, and is a sucker for pda

this man will not miss a single opportunity to hold your hand or circle his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him

childe always giving you physical attention is partly because of his protective instincts, and partly because he craves your touch as well

"y/n, you really are adorable, huh...oh? you want cuddles? sure, why not...heheh..."

receiving

childe, as mentioned before, is a sucker for pda

especially since he hasn't seen you in a while, for example if he's been to see his family for a while or had an important ~work thing~

he'll want your touch, he'll crave your touch more than anything

childe is always on the lookout for the right time to sidle up close to you and rest his head on your shoulder

or rest your shoulder on his, it's all the same to him

give this man a head pat or a soft kiss, he'll want more and more

"y/nn...c'mere, i haven't gotten a head pat in so long..."

zhongli - 钟离 ➵

giving

the lord of geo himself is quite the gentleman

zhongli loves holding your hand especially

just imagine zhongli holding the door open for you, and offering you his hand to stand up

holding hands seems like a basic action, but zhongli has his own ways of making it feel like magic

he'll hold your hand gently but firmly, in a way that's hard to explain

zhongli will rub your hand, massaging it with his thumb as he holds it

he's so polite he'll literally apologise profusely if he needs to let go of your hand to do something

other than that, zhongli is kinda awkward around physical touch

he won't know how much is enough, and how much would make you feel uncomfortable

"y/n dear, is it alright if i just...hold your hand?"

receiving

i can't really imagine zhongli being the type to enjoy receiving physical affection as his main form of love

but he would at least enjoy taking your hand gently

and resting it on his thigh

or allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder as he runs his fingers through your hair

this man

is definitely the big spoon

or he at least prefers being the big spoon over little spoon

zhongli also loves letting you comb through his hair, as it sends literal shivers down his spine

"y-y/n...please don't stop...my hair needs a little more extra brushing..."

kaeya - 凯亚➵

giving

kaeya is physical affection

the literal epitome of pda

like childe, kaeya is really into showing you off in his own ways

the stuff he does is pretty non-pg sometimes, especially in public, i'm gonna have to leave that up to your imagination this has to be sfw ;)

he likes to tease you about everything and anything, and don't think he's gonna stop the teasing at physical affection bc he most certainly doesn't

he'll let his arms encircle your waist

letting his fingers roam around everywhere

he loves watching you squirm (in a good way) and also has the ability of stopping things right before you get uncomfortable

he's also a snuggles kinda guy, and will absolutely crave cuddle sessions where you get to rest your head on his chest, no space between the two of you

"hahah~, y/n, y/n, y/n...look who's all hot and flustered, hmm?"

receiving

the tables have turned >:)

even if your love language is physical affection, he'll literally melt if you so much as snuggle into him

he loves it when you run your fingers through his dark blue hair

and will absolutely whinge like a little child if you stop for so much as a second

he's not so cocky and wisecracking once you have the power in your hands, if you know what i mean

strange how giving kaeya a taste of his own medicine immediately makes him soft, huh ;)

he'll become pretty affectionate and kinda clingy ngl

probably bc of his past

bonus headcanon, he definitely mumbles in his sleep or when he's about to drift off

"y/n...i love you so much...just keep...hugging me...please...don't...let...go..."

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #childe #childe fluff #zhongli #zhongli fluff #kaeya #kaeya fluff #childe x reader #zhongli x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin x reader #૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ask #૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა writes

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dailyadventureprompts · 2 years

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I just discovered your blog and I love it a lot! You have such a rich understanding of dnd and a lot of creativity! I was wondering if you could do a monsters reimagined on illithids/mindflayers? They are so iconic and I love them, I think a good idea for them is to keep the weird hivemind and brain eating and psionics, but ditch the tadpole concept. I would also just like to know how they came to be as they are right now, like. How did we get here?? Thanks!!

Monsters Reimagined: Mindflayers

The illithid have been a popular ask for reimaginings but It's taken me a while to get around to them in part because unlike a lot of the other features on monsters reimagined, their lore/execution within the game doesn't rest on a specific problematic trope or inconsistent storytelling. Mindflayers as they stand IMO are one of d&d's great villains, and if anything suffer from being too successful to the point of overexposure.

It took the asker remarking on how much they liked mindflayers for me to give them the onceover they really deserved. Yes, they worked great as antagonists ( being irredeemable slavers who violate the minds and bodies of those they subjugate, working inevitably towards the most awful ends), but their villany was born out of the same shallow bioessentialism as “always evil” orcs,IE inherent to their character. I’m a firm believer in the idea that if something is capable of making decisions, it’s capable of deciding not to be a bastard, so If I was going to overhaul the illithid, I’d need to get to the roots of why the squid headed bastards were the way they were.

TLDR: What we know today as the mindflayers are in fact the remnants of a long dead world, with many of their most monstrous qualities being bioengineered attempts to stave off the inevitable and hold onto their power. The “Elder brains” which rule the illithid are tyrants, the ultimate class parasites, who indoctrinate and mentally dominate the other mindflayers into acting as tools of domination over the peoples they consider chattel. Is possible for an individual illithid to break free of this system, but doing so is difficult, as it requires them to not only break out of any magical compulsion, but to abandon the paradigms that have defined their existence.

Spoiler alert: we’re going to be talking about white supremacy in this one

I think someone described it pretty succinctly that alien invasion stories are something that industrial nations invented when they started imagining what would happen if a more advanced people came along and started doing to them what they’d be doing to everyone else in the world. Mindflayers (and a few other aberrations) fill that niche in oldschool d&d, with the low levels made up of the feudal heroes largely picking on “uninteligent” tribal brutes, only to hit level 7 or so where all of a sudden they’re fighting creatures who’s intelligence exceeds their own.

The weird thing is how in the alien invasion stories, the aliens always want to enslave humanity.. Despite imagining the technology required to cross the vastness of space, the authors were unable to conceive of a world outside of the hierarchies of exploitation, even in the case of benign colonization like “day the earth stood still” and “childhood’s end”.

I’ve talked before about how d&d has a lot of baked-in tropes that assumes colonialism and racial supremicy as a default, but today we’re going to look at things form the other angle. Namely: can we use the mindflayers to talk about systems of oppression and how they manipulate us into being complacent tools with colonialism and genocide.

First though, a detour on illithid biology/feeding, and how I’ve tried to make it make sense:

In addition to a mostly vestigal digestive system, mindflayers possess adaptations that allow them to turn psychic energy into health and wellbeing, with their feeding being something like running a magnet over a computer screen except that the screen is a brain. This can be done delicately so as to case no long term damage, but sometimes it’s faster to just shuck the brain out and be done with it.

On their homeworld, the illithid cultivated a form of “thinking fungus” that draws in stray thought energy from the astral sea, the stray equivalent of radio static. This fungus grows around many mindflayer settlements and is one of the dead giveaways that they’ve moved into the region.

The goal of every illithid is to prove themselves so at the end of their life (or sooner) they can join with the elderbrain, a grotesque amalgamation of all the most bastardly awful mindflayer’s brains that lives in a big tank in the center of their settlements ( or pilots their spelljammer ships) and mentally influences everything in a 5 mile radius. The elder brain creates a reinforcing social pressure: if you’re not doing everything you can to serve it, you’ll be culled, and if you don’t do your absolute best ( or if the elderbrain is just feeling cruel) your whole life will be for nothing. These brains are not a natural part of the illithid lifecycle, and are instead more equivalent to liches: influential mindflayers that learned that they could force others of their kind to tribute psionic energy through thier bonds, extending their life long beyond where their bodies can keep up. By ensuring that only those most useful join the gesthalt, the original ego ensures that no other personality is capable of overtaking their own.

Every so often in their life, mindflayers reproduce by regurgitating a load of parasitic tadpoles into the elderbrain pool where the weak ones get to be its snacks, and the strong ones get implanted into the skulls of promising candidates who’s brains are eaten as they’re transformed into new midnflayers. All of this is super squick, but what’s almost nonsensical is the fact that left to their own devices the tadpoles grow up into colossal, borderline feral worm monsters, meaning that in their natural state no one would be around to put the tadpoles in anyone’s heads. I rationalize this as the result of extensive biomancy augmentations that occured in the illithid’s development, a “cure” for the sterility imposed by their dying world and a handy means of population control/indoctrination for the elder brain, who’s able to etch the basics of its own personality onto each tadpole as it prepares to take a host.

And here we’ll bring the two ideas together, about how illithid can help represent white supremacy: Like all imperialist or autocratic systems, the society of the mindflayers is self reinforcing, creating a population of desperate individuals and using their desperation to turn them into a tool to benefit those at the system’s top. Every illithid is not only born with the elderbrain’s world view as the foundation of its mind, the society in which it is raised is set up so that the only metric of growth or success is being useful to the elder brain, with any deviancy from expectation ( incluging over ambition) are dealt with harshly to the point of execution.

An indivual illithid could break free, but that would require a depth of personal examination is frowned upon in mindflayer circles, as well as the acceptance that there is a way to live outside the elderbrain’s guidance without going hungry and devouring their own sapience like the pale and wretched creatures that outsiders call “illithid vampires”

Much like racism,misogyny, imperialism, capitalism and fascism, the society of mindflayers creates a desperate population that are convinced that the only way to be is to be in a particular way that ends up benefiting those at the very top. Breaking free takes a tremendous amount of bravery, and a willingness to alienate yourself from all you thought familiar and true in the process.

Art

#Illithid #villian #monsters reimagined #spelljammer #Slavers #heavy topics #scifi #dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d #5e #dm advice #dm tip #dm tips #dm tools #writing advice #psionics

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inkspecter · 11 months

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A 2023 Guide to Scientifically Advanced Clown Husbandry Techniques

I’ve started asking robots their opinions on clown husbandry so please enjoy and be sure to reblog with any corrections you have! [Photo also made by robots]

Clown husbandry can be an enjoyable and rewarding activity, but it does require careful management and advanced techniques if you wish to get the most out of your clowns. Here in this guide, we'll discuss some of the scientifically advanced techniques that will help ensure your clowns stay healthy and thrive.

Consider the Clown’s Dietary Needs

Have you ever wondered what keeps clowns so cheerful and energetic? The answer lies in their diet. These jolly performers have a sweet tooth - but not just for any ordinary candy. Oh no, they crave something much more delicious and messy: pies! Whether it's apple, cherry, or even the classic cream flavor, clowns can't resist a good pie to chow down on. And who can blame them? With each bite, they're transported to a world of sugary bliss and childlike wonder. So next time you see a clown with a suspiciously full belly, just know that they indulged in their favorite treat - and it's all part of the job.

Setting up a Safe Clown Habitat

Do you know what's scarier than clowns? Clowns without a safe habitat! It's time to set up a sanctuary for these playful performers. But we can't just put them in any old space - we need a special place that's clown-proof. And what's a clown-proof space? A big top, of course! Not only will it protect them from the elements, but it will also provide them with plenty of space to practice their juggling, balloon animals, and other tricks of the trade. So let's get to work, folks, and make sure our clown friends have a safe and happy home.

Training Your Clowns to Perform Amazing Tricks

When it comes to training your clowns, it's not all fun and games (well, okay, it is mostly fun and games). But trust me, it's worth the effort when you see them perform jaw-dropping tricks that will make your audience laugh, gasp, and maybe even wet their pants a little. And let's face it, a good clown act can make or break a party. So grab your big red nose and get to work, my friend. It's time to unleash your inner circus ringleader and show those clowns who's boss!

Improving Clown Hygiene

At the end of the day, clown hygiene is no laughing matter. From cleaning the wigs to keeping costumes bright, you'll need to take a few extra steps to ensure that your clowns stay clean and presentable for their beloved audience. After all, nobody wants to hug a smelly clown! Unless they're a tramp clown. They sometimes like to be a bit odiferous. So stock up on plenty of soap, water, and a good supply of clown wipes to keep your clowns clean and healthy. You'll thank yourself later!

Avoiding Dangerous Pranks and Practical Jokes

We all love a good laugh, but let's admit it - sometimes, we take it too far. Nobody wants to be the culprit of a prank gone wrong, especially when it puts someone in danger. We're all for being the life of the party, but let's not make it a matter of life and death. Stick with the classics, like whoopee cushions and fake vomit, and avoid anything involving explosives or sharp objects. So let's keep it safe, folks, and remember - friendship is magic, but a hospital bill is not.

The world of clowns is full of laughter, joviality, and entertainment. If you want to join in the fun, be sure to keep your clown’s dietary needs in mind; pies and sweets are always greatly appreciated by our big-nosed friends! Furthermore, you’ll need a large tent or big top to house your clowns – trust us, they don’t fit inside small bungalows! Gather the best props and tricks for clown performances beforehand; it may take some practice and patience from both the clowns and their trainers but it’s worth it for a show that will produce life-long memories. Hygiene should also be kept in check: ensure your clowns are clean and bright to make them sparkle just as much as their sequined outfits. While practical jokes might seem like a good idea at first, always remember that no one likes an unhappy clown – so choose only harmless fun when pulling pranks!

#clown core #clownblr #clown #clown oc #clownery #clown collection #clowncore #clown husbandry #clowns

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arazialotis · 9 months

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Get Him to the Con - Part 7

Pairing: Jensen × Reader

Word Count: About 6000

Summary: The reader stumbles into Jensen at her favorite bar, a very drunk Jensen. She soon realizes Jensen was booked for a con this weekend and has to be eight hours from town in only two.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Warnings: Language

Although this is an RPF, it is a character I created and should not reflect back IRL. I intend no hate or ill wishes to him or his family. This is purely just for writing and wasting my time as coping skill. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. I appreciate any feedback or suggestions!

*** Saturday ***

“Hey man,” Jared greeted Jensen, clasping hands and pulling him in for a half hug. “Glad to see you’re still alive. How was it?”

The entirety of the trip was still catching up to him. He was tired, from being in constant motion for three days straight to sleeping on crappy motel mattresses. But it was more than that. He had made it blatantly clear how he felt for you and still held no inclination on your stance. That wasn’t true; if you had any affection, it would have been reciprocated. Sure, there was the flirtatious banter and the natural ease in each other’s presence, but twice he had laid it all on the line only to be met back with a block of ice. And that last one… Hell, it had been magical. Sparks flying, gravity-defying. But your response confused the hell out of him. He’d been misinterpreting signals and your friendship the entire time. And god, he was such an idiot. He practically forced it upon you. If you felt uncomfortable or violated, his reputation would be in shambles, as he knew it should be.

“It was fine.” He grumbled. There was no need to get into all this with Jared, for the fact alone he would gloat about being right for months on end.

Jared did not let his relief show. Maybe Jensen was finally coming back to his senses. He feigned empathy instead.

“Just fine?” He asked.

No, it wasn’t just fine; it was amazing. You were amazing, and perfect, and hilarious. And he fucked it up just like he predicted.

“Yeah,” Jensen responded curtly.

“So, no Y/N then?” Jared pressed, a little confused by Jensen’s abruptness. “I thought she’d be here.”

Yeah, you and me both, pal. “Nah, she knew we’d be busy all weekend and wanted to hike the mountains instead. I don’t blame her. I’d rather be doing that myself too.”

“Are you okay?” Jared persisted.

“Yeah.” Jensen squeaked. “Let me get cleaned up. Then we can scout out some dinner before the craziness starts.”

Jensen left Jared in the hotel lobby. Jared sighed, unsettled. Something was clearly bothering Jensen, but getting him to open up would be hard. All Jared knew is it was centered around you. Ultimately, if the road trip didn’t go as planned or wasn’t everything Jensen had dreamed up, it was for the best. Sure, Jensen was down now, and it hurt to see him this way, but hopefully, this would help him move on and snap out of these unrealistic fantasies.

Jensen didn’t sleep well that night. The mattress was too plush, the sheets too silky, and the space beside him was too cold. He’d been informed that a few videos of the kiss had been circling some fan accounts and to expect questions about it at the panels. Followed by a scolding lecture on how to respond. He knew the expected response but wondered what he would say if he hadn’t been coached. It didn’t settle right with him. Maybe he’d get up early and call you in the morning. Just rip the bandaid off and ask what you wanted him to say. He tossed and then tossed again—the sheets tangling around his calves. He reached for his phone, the light momentarily blinding him. His heart raced as he scrolled through Instagram. It was easy enough to find. Replaying it, he could still imagine your lips against his, the back of your neck in his grasp, the fabric of his shirt straining as you pulled against it. It was a very good kiss. That is when your text came through.

‘Thanks again for an amazing trip! If you’re looking for a buddy on your next road trip, let me know. And don’t worry, the ghosts here are all bark, though I can’t say the same for those in room 217.’

He didn’t think his heart could drop further, but it did. There was no second-guessing it this time. The word repeated in his mind. Buddy. He had officially and unequivocally been friend-zoned.

*** Sunday Afternoon ***

If AllTrails had been tracking your time, they would have sent you a medal for the record time in which you descended that mountain. Even paying no heed to the speed limit, you couldn’t make it to Denver until mid-afternoon. You called Jensen twice, hoping to explain that you were on your way and wanted to talk, hoping he could spare a few minutes of his day. If you held these pent-up emotions in your chest any longer, you would explode. On the third attempt, you hung up early, logically knowing he was predisposed.

“Come on, come on, come on,” You chanted through the city streets, the consistent string of red lights taunting you.

The wheels of the rental car screeched as you pulled into the parking lot with a little too much tenacity. Upon exiting, you backtracked, realizing you had left the vehicle running. You ran through the hotel lobby to the adjoining convention center. The hall was filled with fans and staff alike, all eagerly waiting for the next event. Booths were filled to the brim with Supernatural merchandise, shirts, photos, and trinkets. Cosplayers caught your eye, Castiels and a human version of Baby. It was overwhelming and distracting from your overall mission to find him.

You pulled open large double doors leading to the main ballroom.

“Ma’am.” Someone called, and it took you a moment to realize they were speaking to you. “Ma’am. You need a wristband to enter here.”

Security personnel dressed in black pants and a yellow shirt with a conspicuous earpiece halted your progress further into the room.

“A wristband?” You questioned.

“Yes, you have to check in outside. Exchange your ticket for a wristband.” They explained.

“I don’t have a ticket.”

“You’ll have to buy one to enter.” Their patience drawing thin, tired of a weekend of over-explaining processes.

“Okay,” You held up your hands in defense. “Okay, where can I buy one?” You started to back away, signaling you wouldn’t be a problem.

You followed the directions back through the hall’s entrance to a booth where two bored attendants scrolling through their phones sat. Most attendees had already checked in at this point.

“Hello,” You tentatively called them from their screens. “I’m here to see Jensen.”

The one with pink hair sighed. “You and everyone else, sweetheart.”

Their concentration broke from the phone, and puzzlement crossed their face. Only then did you realize what state you were in from the morning hike. Tangled hair, sweat-crusted clothes, dried dirt down your entire left side, and a series of angry red scrapes on your calve. But they quickly recomposed themselves. Apparently, it wasn’t the oddest thing they had encountered today.

They grumbled as if you should know the process. “Ticket?” They held out their hand for a paper stub or your phone.

“You see, I don’t have a ticket.” You gritted your teeth, knowing how the next bit would sound. “But Jensen and I are actually… friends. So maybe he left my name or something on a list so I could get in?”

Something between a scoff and a laugh escaped the second’s mouth, covered up by a following cough.

“There’s no list. Friend or not, you still need a ticket to get in.” They held firm.

“Right, totally understandable.” You attempted to present as sane as possible, realizing passersby were staring too long for your comfort. “May I purchase a ticket?”

“If you want to meet Jensen in person, photo ops are done for the day, but we have a few silver packages that include autographs.” They explained.

“Great, that sounds wonderful. How much?” You asked compliantly.

“750.”

Now it was your turn to scoff. “You must be joking.” Even for romantic prospects, paying that absurd amount would take hell freezing over.

From their facial expression, they were not joking. “You could get general admission for 95, but that will only get you to the day's last panel, starting in about an hour.”

You raised an eyebrow. “A 100 dollars to hear them talk for what, forty minutes, an hour max?” Fucking ridiculous.

“You need a ticket.” They crossed their arms.

“Listen.” You pulled out your phone. “I literally drove the man here. I have the pictures. I think it will be okay if I go see him.”

You realized how much of a ‘Karen’ you were coming across as, but something inside you was starting to boil. The further you were being pushed away from him, the more you needed to fight.

The second attendant leaned into the collar of their polo, whispering. “We have a potential code gray.”

Fuck. You tucked your phone away. “You know what, it’s okay.” You slowly back away. “I’ll wait until it’s over. This is a big misunderstanding and does not need to get out of hand. I’ll talk to him tonight, and it will all be fine.”

You weren’t sure if you were trying to settle them or yourself, but you turned back down the hall and hastily walked out. Back in the hotel lobby, you weighed your options. You looked at your phone, and he still had not responded to the missed calls. Your stomach rumbled, and you smirked, knowing Jensen would tease you about not making the most rational decisions on an empty stomach. And you know what else? He’d encourage your spontaneity. Rather than wait in the lobby until the evening, you’d find another way in. There couldn’t be watching eyes everywhere. And once you did find him, he’d explain everything to whoever was being called in for code gray or whatever that meant.

Exiting the lobby, you circled the building and found a little courtyard where fans sat, chatted, and indulged in a quick meal. A hint of envy glossed over your eyes as you caught sight of an In-N-Out bag. You anticipated the doors to be locked, circumventing fans to use the one entrance, but they easily gave way. With feigned nonchalance, you went through another hall as if you belonged and knew exactly where you were going. Having quickly mapped the layout, you went around the ballroom to the back.

You were quickly met with a barricade of metal fences and high black curtains. An obvious sign to keep out and most likely where cast and crew could walk through unimpeded. You were close to out of ideas when an unmistakable figure in black jeans and a blue denim shirt walked past, followed by a posse.

“Jensen!” Your voice cracked.

It didn’t sound like your voice. It was higher and sharper. But through the sways of fabric, you saw him briefly hesitate. He was quickly ushered along.

“Oh, I think not.” You mumbled to yourself.

One leg was over the fence railing before your brain could comprehend your actions. Two shadows approached from behind the curtain as you straddled the cold metal. The crackling of their radio startled you, and you realized too late your mistake.

“Ma’am, we’ll need you to come with us.”

Double fuck. You ran for the exit back to the courtyard. Pausing once outside, you texted Jensen.

‘You remember that bucket list item I was talking about? Yeah, well, it might be much closer in the future than I anticipated.’

You tucked your phone away and continued your circle of the building. At this point, you were in too deep. You either had to leave the premise or find Jensen so he could bail you out. Well, fuck it. Unwittingly, he was the one to get you into this situation in the first place. He could get you out. You came across a stairwell entrance requiring a keycard for access. But gods, be blessed; whoever was watching you sent an answer. Someone came out for a cigarette break, and they even held the door for you as you stepped in.

You plotted the path in your mind, where you were positioned, and the direction he was headed. You took a left, scanning the area for any threat. A hall stemmed down to the right, and you saw more black curtains, but this time, you were successfully on the other side of them. You had to be close. A mischievous smile crossed your lips. This was fun. The adrenaline coursing through your system giving you a temporary high. Soon the Ocean Eight team would be knocking down your door, begging you to join their next heist.

Your false confidence shattered as you collided with the solid frame of a man. You looked up and up some more. His expression was far from pleased. A small, terrified giggle escaped your lips. As you turned, you found his double blocking your exit. Handcuffs came down upon your wrists, and you were escorted away.

Jensen sighed a breath of relief, making it to the holding room, where he joined Jared. He made it through photo ops; all that was left today was the panel and autographs. The panel earlier today for VIPs went better than expected too. The kiss never came up, and he was holding out hope that this next one would mirror it. Clif, his long-trusted security guard, closed the door behind them.

Jared had already gone through a pour of bourbon and was now cracking the seal of a Russel’s 13.

“Make mine a triple,” Jensen instructed.

Jared laughed. “That kind of day, huh?” And handed Jensen a generous double.

“I can almost see the finish line.” Jensen sniffed the top of the Glencairn and took a testing sip.

He prayed that the whiskey would loosen his nerves or, at the very least, get you off his mind. Logically, he knew you were in Estes Park but couldn’t stop thinking about you. It only worsened as the day progressed. In this last hour alone, he thought he glanced at you exiting the lobby and later heard you calling his name. He shook the feeling off as he took a bountiful swig. He smirked, knowing you’d call him out for not slowly savoring the whiskey’s intricacies, and he would retort with you being a snob. He poured himself another round, this time to take it more slowly. Jared scoffed and was about to condemn him when the Barrell Seagrass caught his eye.

The radio crackled, and a stern voice came through. “Tiny, we have a situation. Require your assistance.”

Clif, who was also about to help himself a pour, cursed under his breath upon hearing his codename. It had almost been a flawless con. He had jinxed himself by celebrating too soon.

Jared’s brow furrowed. “Everything alright?”

Clif grumbled. “It will be once I get there.” And exited the room.

Jensen was unconcerned and too focused on the palate of cherry and leather.

“What’s that about?” Jared chuckled.

“I find it better for my mental health not to dwell on the possibilities.” Jensen teased back.

He went to his phone charging on the gray console to check the time, wondering when he’d needed to start hyping himself back up. Immediately his brow furrowed upon seeing your three missed calls and your message. Bucket list? Bucket list? He had to think back. The alcohol already clouding his memory. His eyes popped. Immediately setting the glass down, he dialed your number. You didn’t answer. He dialed again. No answer. He resorted to texting.

‘For the love of god, pick up your damn phone.’

Followed by, ‘I swear to god if your ass is in jail, I’m not bailing you out.’ Though he fully would.

“Jesus Christ.” He muttered. How was he supposed to get through the day now?

The holding room you were kept in was less of a room and more of a closet. The several monitors that observed the conference center’s layout indicated that you were not as stealthy as you had initially thought. One security guard sat across from you while the other stood behind them. Both of their arms crossed.

“Come on.” You reasoned. “One of you has to be the good cop and at least pretend to believe my story. At least offer me a coffee.”

“You think you are hilarious, don’t you?” The one seated said.

Deadpan, you said, “I think I’m adorable.”

They did not engage further, only held the stern expression.

“I’m not fucking crazy.” You would have gestured to the phone if your hands weren’t cuffed behind you. “You saw the pictures, the texts.”

“It’s amazing what Photoshop can do these days.” The one standing remarked.

“What about the video with the kiss?” You pressed.

They both scoffed. As you watched it with them, there was no clear angle of your face.

“That doesn’t prove anything.”

You rolled your eyes and clenched your jaw.

“Then bring him here, and he will vouch for me.” You demanded. “If he doesn’t, I will willingly walk away and accept whatever restraining order you see fit.”

There was a knock on the door, and your hope lifted. The one standing stepped out. Thus commenced a staring contest with the one across from you. As your phone rang, you lost.

“That’s him!” You exclaimed.

They didn’t move, still engaged in the staring contest. He let it ring to voicemail. Immediately it rang again.

“Goddammit! Answer the phone!” You demanded.

“Just because you named someone Jensen on your phone doesn’t mean it’s him.” He held his head high. “But then again, I’m fully aware there is no use rationalizing with a delusional person.”

Your breath became ragged and sharp. You were forming venom on your lips when the door opened, and the man you saw yesterday approaching Jensen appeared in the room. A couple of texts came through, but you couldn’t read them. The man took one look at you and sighed with disappointment.

“Let her go.” He instructed.

It was all you could do not to stick your tongue out in victory.

“Y/N, I thought you were supposed to be in Estes Park?” He said with an agitated tone.

The cuffs clicked as they released, and you rubbed your wrists.

“How do you know my name?”

You were equally concerned yet grateful this stranger was on your side.

“It’s my job to know.”

The other two whispered back and forth to each other.

“Speaking of jobs,” He remarked. “Why don’t you do yours and look for an actual threat?”

“Yes, boss.” They hung their heads and left you alone in the room.

“Let me guess,” You started. “Good cop?”

He chuckled. “No, not at all. The name’s Clif. I’m the head of Jared and Jensen’s security team. You caused quite the stir these past couple of days.”

“Yeah,” You agreed. “I may have gone a little off the deep end at the end there. Am I in trouble?”

“Only if Jensen wants to press charges.” You could tell he wasn’t joking. “Which I imagine he won’t. Not after a kiss like that.”

Your cheeks grew warm. “I’m here to talk about that with him, actually. To talk about that and a lot of other things. I know he’s busy, but…”

Clif checked the silver watch around his wrist. “He’ll be getting ready to go on stage in about 15 minutes. Something tells me you’ll need more time than that.”

You nodded in agreement though slightly disappointed.

“If you’d like to sit in, it might make the time go faster,” He continued. “I can grab you afterward. There’s a dinner break between the panel and autos. I think he would be agreeable to see you then.”

You held up your bare wrist. “I don’t think they’ll let me in.”

Clif chuckled and fished through his back pocket, producing a bright orange wristband.

Before you left with Clif, you found Jensen’s texts and shot him one back, hoping he would see it before he had to go on stage.

‘False alarm. I’ll explain later. Have a great panel.’

The conversation was already in full swing by the time you arrived. Clif was escorting you there when he commented on your leg. Now that the adrenaline and pain meds from earlier had worn off, the pain was catching up to you. He made a quick pit stop on your behalf, getting you some additional painkillers and water. He insisted on cleaning it up better, but you insisted harder you wanted to see the panel and that it could wait.

The door echoed as it shut behind you. Jensen’s head snapped in your direction, but from the lights blinding him and dimming the crowd, he could barely make out a figure. He continued the banter with Jared as they began taking questions left and right.

As your eyes adjusted to the low lighting, you scouted out empty seats, yet the throbbing in your hip protested. It had already been cramped on the drive down here and again in the security room. You opted instead to lean against the back wall. Their antics riled up a laugh in you, but you couldn’t help to notice Jensen was on edge. He was fidgeting more than usual, wringing the microphone with his hands, combing his fingers through his hair, twisting in the barstool. You couldn’t help but feel a slice of guilt knowing you had caused some of it.

A girl walked up through the crowd, and as she got closer, her face felt familiar. She leaned against the wall a few feet away from you.

“Oh, I remember you.” You said aloud. “We took pictures with you at the Colorado sign.”

She glanced out of her peripheral and then fully at you when the realization hit.

“Oh my god, yeah. You were with Jensen, right?” She confirmed.

“Yup, that’s me.” You followed her gaze over you and remembered how dirty you were and most likely smelled of sweat. “Sorry, I went hiking this morning but wanted to make the panel.” You explained.

“No, I didn’t mean to stare. Sorry.” She gulped. “It’s just, yesterday you said you were only friends, but then we saw you kiss outside the hotel, and, like, that was a kiss to end all kisses. You’re totally together now, right?”

You gulped and stared ahead.

She didn’t wait for an answer. “What was it like? Kissing him?”

You inhaled sharply, remembering his taste, his scent, the feeling of his strong fingers against your flesh, wondering where else his hands and lips might wander if you gave him the chance.

“That good, huh?” She concluded.

“Are you having a good time at the convention?” You asked, hoping to move on to other topics.

“Oh, absolutely, but the crowds,” She gestured outwards. “They get a little overwhelming at some points.”

You nodded understanding. “Y/N.” You introduced yourself and held out your hand.

“Casey.” She said and shook.

As if proving her point of crowds further, Jensen used the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face. The crowd went feral upon seeing a hint of skin.

“Stop it.” Jensen’s voice boomed over the system.

Then with a wave of his hand, he called for more praise which the crowd was more than happy to oblige. This went back and forth for at least three rounds. Jared and Jensen shared a private small conversation.

“Alright, alright, simmer down,” Jensen called. “We have more questions to answer.” When he finally drew command over the crowd, he turned to the girl on the right. “Hey, we ran into you at the border, didn’t we?”

The girl nervously chuckled, flabbergasted that he would remember.

“Oh, that’s my friend.” Casey pointed.

You were standing obviously next to flight, and based on the girl’s response, she must have been freeze.

Finally, she regained her composure and stumbled out of the question. “My question is for Jensen, and I’m a little shocked it hasn’t come up yet,” Jensen’s face dropped as she continued. “Since a lot of people saw you yesterday and the video of you kissing that girl has been circulating, I was wondering if you are officially off the market?”

Jared’s head whipped to Jensen. He held his microphone down as he hissed, “What kiss?”

Jensen gulped, realizing he had discussed it with Clif and his PR team but forgot to loop in Jared. Well, maybe purposefully forgot so as not to relive the humiliation. The crowd was so silent you could hear the air conditioning humming. Only the pounding of your heart was louder.

The lights seemed to grow brighter as the seconds ticked by. He raced through what his team had suggested and how he should respond. He breathed into the microphone, then paused as if halting a thought before it even started.

“It’s complicated,” Was all he said.

Jensen gave Jared a pleading look for aid.

Jared breathed in deeply, thinking he was going to save the situation. “I know every heart in this room just broke but don’t worry, everyone needs a good rebound, and Jensen was due for one, give it a few weeks.”

“No.” Jensen stopped him. “No, that’s not what this is at all. I…” His voice cracked, and he paused again. He was exhausted from being careful with his words, hiding shit, and painting a face that would create appeal. And so he decided to let it all go. He picked a loose thread in his jeans as he confessed to the world. “A few months ago, I met someone. And I was a complete ass, but she gave me a second chance anyways. She’s not just a rebound from Elena. She’s kind, and funny, and a smart ass, but most of all, she is real. And she sees me not as Jensen Ackles, but just as…”

“Dean Winchester?” Jared grumbled.

A few fans yelped, but most stayed respectful.

Jensen’s jaw tightened. “She sees me as I am.” He huffed. “I like her. Like, like her.” He said as if he was in middle school, and there was a collective aw in response from the audience. “I saw a future with her.”

“Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Jared piped in.

“Calm down,” He snipped back. “Not wedding bells, two kids, a dog, and a white picket fence. Not yet, anyway. Just taking it a few months at a time. Having someone other than you to confide in, to care for and be cared for in return, someone I can laugh and cry with, someone to share adventures with, I don’t know…” He sighed, defeated, getting away from himself, feeling like he wasn’t making sense. He turned to Jared, “It’s not like you aren’t my best friend, but you have Gen. You have someone you can go home to, someone you can talk to when I’m annoying the hell out of you, someone you can be vulnerable with and don’t have to act around.”

Jared sighed.

“That doesn’t sound complicated.” The shy voice peeped up.

Jensen smiled mournfully, addressing the fan again. “The thing is, she doesn’t feel the same. I got friend-zoned. Hard. Which is okay. It is completely her right. And I mean, I’m a lot to deal with, so I get it. So it’s complicated because we have to figure out if we can stay friends now that I screwed us over with that kiss half of you witnessed.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. It took a second for you to process it all.

“This is utter bullshit.” You gasped, Casey taking it all in, though you had completely tuned out the rest of the world as if you were talking directly to him. “Friend-zoned, how did I friend-zone you? Maybe, and here’s a thought: if you had the ability to confess your feelings to me with as much ease as to hundreds of people, I could have told you I felt the same. But you just kissed me, and I panicked because I didn’t know what you wanted, and I thought I wanted more than you. Because I do see you as you are, but I acknowledge that you are still Jensen Ackles, and I’m still a crazy little fan that shouldn’t even know you in the first place. It’s not either, or, asshat; it can be both. I’ve been waiting for your lead this whole time. And now that I’m here, you are telling everyone it’s over before we even had a chance. Fuck!”

Although it was a rageful whisper, Casey heard everything and ferociously typed away on her phone.

Before Jared tried again to regain control of the situation, Casey’s friend jumped back on the mic. “Y/N says that if Jensen had confessed his feelings to her in the first place with as much ease as he can in front of thousands of fans, she wouldn’t have accidentally friend-zoned him.”

Jensen stood abruptly. “Y/N’s here?”

Panic rose again, seeing heads turn, looking for an imposter in the crowd.

The girl continued. “She says she was waiting for him to decide if he wanted to take the relationship to the next level, probably because she’s just a fan like us, and well, fuck, he’s Jensen Ackles. And I’m looking at her right now, and she is head over heels. Well, okay, she’s a little furious, but if Jensen wants her to have his babies, she would totally have his babies. Girl, we have to help her lock that man down…”

Again, silence in the room.

“What did you do?” Your eyes were wide.

Casey kept typing, ignoring your panic. “Trust me.”

You felt eyes on you and slid down the wall in mortal dread.

“Sorry,” The friend at the mic said. “Those were texts from my friend. I probably shouldn’t have read every single one.”

Crickets.

“Y/N’s here?” Jensen asked again.

“Yeah,” The girl looked through the crowd and pointed. Thankfully, it redirected some of the gaze to the back. “She must be sitting with my friend over there somewhere.”

Jared stood, but Jensen waved him away. “How do I know it’s really Y/N, and you're not making this up?” He asked skeptically.

Casey looked down at you as you were hiding your face between your palms. She nudged you with her foot.

The girl’s voice sounded throughout the ballroom. “I spy something yellow, clouds or mountains, the nasty-ass ball pit, Neil Diamond, or Bate’s Motel; any one of those should do.”

Jensen snickered and shook his head back and forth. “God dammit, Y/N. Do you want to try and make this work? Be more than friends?” He was still searching the crowd but couldn’t find you.

“Sign an NDA,” Jared sarcastically commented, believing Jensen’s previous analysis of your commitment to privacy was shockingly misguided.

“She says you can ask her face-to-face on a proper date.” Some of the crowd chuckled; others held a sadness that the window of his singleness was closing.

“I didn’t say that.” You snipped at Casey.

“We can’t make you seem too eager. Not after that baby comment.” She retorted.

Jensen chuckled again. “How does ten tonight sound? You pick the place.”

From a distance, he could see the door in the back crack open, light flooding the darkness momentarily, and he knew it was you. A small smirk escaped his lips.

The friend at the microphone continued to telephone Casey’s messages. “She left, I think, 'cause I embarrassed her and exaggerated certain details. But if I didn’t completely mortify her, I say it’s safe to change your relationship status.”

From the main lobby, you could hear the cheers and applause. This was not how you expected the day to go, especially almost getting arrested and working things out with Jensen over a panel. There was the sound of heavy footsteps and keys jingling as Clif rounded a corner.

“You keep making my job more and more interesting.” He jokingly scolded. “Come on,” He gestured with a nod of his head. “Let’s get you out of here before the panel ends, and people put two-and-two together.”

You stepped in line. “Let me make the record clear that Jensen was the one to kiss me and could have been more tactful in answering that question. I will only take the blame for momentarily losing it and breaking a few convention policies that may or may not be criminal offenses. I don’t know how this stuff works.”

He turned to look back at you and wiggled his eyebrows as if keeping you privy to a secret. “Something tells me I’m going to have to keep an eye on you.”

“Not when you should have both eyes on Jensen.” You teased back.

He laughed as you continued down the hall, and he parted a black curtain for you. “Oh, I like you.”

He led you to the holding room. It was nearly as messy as a frat house after a championship victory. Bottles of whiskey lined a TV stand, jackets and sweatshirts were strewn about, devices of all kinds were plugged into outlets, and piles of eaten and unopened food sat everywhere. You found a clear spot on the couch, and exhaustion finally hit you. Exhaustion from traveling non-stop, to restless nights, to hiking earlier this morning, to internally debating everything that was happening. You leaned your head back and shut your eyes.

The temporary relief was short-lived as the click of the door opening jolted you from the micro-nap. You stood up as Jensen and Jared entered the room. They looked equally exhausted but somehow maintained their brightness and energy. Jensen’s face glowed upon seeing you.

“Y/N!” Jensen exclaimed.

“Hi.” You greeted sheepishly.

He bounded over to you and took your cheeks in his hands, pressing his lips against yours. Jared went for another round of whiskey.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He pulled away and looked you over. “What the hell happened?”

You didn’t know where to begin. “I met a park ranger.” You said, accompanied by something between a laugh and a huff.

Jensen took in your scrapped-up leg, and his face grew stern. “Are you okay? We should get a doctor to come look you over.”

“I’m fine,” You promised. “The ranger did a thorough examination and knocked some sense into me. I should be back to normal in a couple of days.”

“Was he cute?” He asked.

You grinned. “Very.”

He pinched his lips together in a smile. “Well, then I better up the antics for our date tonight and really try and impress you.”

“Oh my god,” You giggled. “I never said any of that!” He gave you a questioning glance. “To be fair, not most of it.”

“So, no babies then?” He teased, and your cheeks turned ten shades darker. “Hey Jared, it’s time I officially introduce you; this is Y/N. Y/N, Jared.”

“Pleasure,” Jared stated coldly.

“It’s great to finally meet you,” You offered.

“Hey, we should order some food before autographs.” Jared bypassed you and spoke directly to Jensen.

“Yeah,” Jensen agreed. “I’m starving. You want anything?” He asked you.

You shook your head no. “What I need is a shower and clean clothes.”

Jensen smiled and dug through his wallet, fetching out a key card. “Room 912. If you need anything, text Clif. I’ll send you his number.” He handed it to you. “See you later tonight? Then maybe we will have the chance to talk about all this.”

“Yeah.” You bit your lip, accepting the key and trying not to get ahead by wondering if you would be sharing a room tonight.

Starting a relationship with him required a plan, including expectations and boundaries. As much as you wanted to rush into things, taking it slow was for the best. Waiting for him to finish autographs would give you time to make a list and develop some questions on what a relationship with him would entail beyond the normal stuff. This wouldn’t be as easy as it seemed, but you trusted he would be there to guide you. Before parting, he placed another peck on your lips, leaving you craving more.

Part 8

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GHTTC Tags: @maggiegirl17 @foxyjwls007 @djs8891 @deans-spinster-witch @tmb510 @ghostofjoharvelle

#supernatural #spn #spn fandom #spn fanfic #jensen ackles #jensen x reader #jensen x y/n #jensen x you

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coelii · 4 months

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Hey! As a discerning Casltevaniac, I’m curious what your personal definition of the Metroidvania genre is. What would you say are the elements that MUST be present for you to feel good about calling any given game a Metroidvania?

For me personally, I say it needs to be a 2D platformer, it should focus on an expanding single space (you should be able to walk from nearly any point to nearly any other point without having to go to an overworld, map, etc.), the player’s progress should be gated by means of mobility upgrades or similar upgrades that solve problems you can see in advance, it should have a solid number of discretionary upgrades (ones that are nice but that aren’t required in order to advance), and it should incentivize returning to areas you’ve already been to.

That said, like any discussion of art, the only rules are the ones we apply to ourselves, so any part of that could of course be up for discussion!

So I take a pretty similar definition, but I would say that any game that successfully takes elements of both Metroid and Castlevania makes a game a Metroidvania.

Let's analyze Metroid real quick:

high paced action

bosses without a life bar

inventory and ability management

open map design - can walk from anywhere to anywhere in theory

special abilities or items are needed to progress certain areas

quick and easy movement

enemy placement is not generally scripted - can be attempted from different directions or ignored entirely

exploration and backtracking

And let's do the same thing for Castlevania (pre-symphony):

action is slower, clunkier, but more deliberate

combat has significant tension

bosses have health bars

Some inventory/ability management (sub-weapons)

stage based maps - set start point and set end point

differing routes based on decisions (some games)

movement and combat is not fluid

enemy placement is deliberate and scripted

As Castlevania moved into the Super NES and beyond you could tell the design team was looking at ways to make the action series more engaging and less punishing for players while staying true to its roots.

Movement and combat are usually the things most people would cite as their dislike of the NES era Castlevania games, but are often the things people cite as their favorite part of early Metroid (Super Metroid in particular).

By Rondo, the team had clearly found a good way to test this new movement and combat style by introducing Maria, who comes with a faster movement speed, double jump, and significantly faster attack animation. Richter was also given the ability to dodge backward in midair allowing for more skilled combat. Bloodlines similarly made both John Morris and Eric Lecarde much easier to control.

These were the last games to be released before the first 'Metroidvania' game, Symphony of the Night. Symphony really married the two concepts well, and even demonstrated the changing philosophy within the game.

The prologue shows you playing as Richter in the finale of Rondo where you have the final boss battle with Dracula. Dracula has a health bar, you have your sub weapons, and the combat is like the traditional Castlevania games.

Immediately afterwards you play as Alucard and everything is dramatically different.

bosses no longer have health bars

your own life bar is different and magic is added

combat is easier, but RPG stats make the beginning of the game harder and end of the game easier

stages are replaced with an exploration focused map

special abilities and items are needed to progress in areas

movement is much quicker and more fun

In a lot of way Symphony feels like a team of developers went "what if we made a Castlevania game in the Metroid engine?" and out came SotN. It worked because Metroid has a fast and fluid movement system, with good map design that rewards exploration with secrets, and engaging combat. Castlevania likewise has fantastic music, enemy design, and great tension-based combat. Together they make a game that is rewarding to play, but still frustratingly challenging.

So TLDR: I think to be a Metroidvania a game should incorporate the best elements of Metroid and of pre-SotN Castlevania.

To me the best elements of Metroid are:

rewarding exploration with an interconnected map

incremental upgrades that make combat or exploration easier and more fun (you should find an item and immediately realize where you were supposed to go back and use it)

The best elements of classic Castlevania are:

scripted enemy layouts

great sound design and art direction

atmosphere

high tension combat (like a lighter version of a bullet-hell game)

replay value with the games that offered alternative paths and multiple characters

Hope that answers your question friend :D

#coelii.ask #castlevania #metroid #infodump #coelii.info #gaming #retro gaming

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ghostofskywalker · 1 year

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Hi tori! congrats on the milestone!!! 🥰 the difficulty it took me to choose between padme, carol and dottie for this is insane ahh but lo and behold lady danvers won lol, can I ask for Carol x reader where reader is a member of the avengers and on a mission (I apologise in advance for the cliché) anyway on a mission reader gets truth serumed or hit with a magic spell or smth that makes her blab the truth without being able to stop and so she accidentally tells everyone, including Carol, that she's super in love with Carol and the only reason she stays apart of the avengers is to be near Carol despite the fact that being with the avengers is basically imminent death 🤣💖

thank you so much!! that is definitely a difficult choice, but i loved the prompt and i hope you enjoy this :)

words: 1,054

summary: you're rescued too quickly for anyone to get their hands on any avengers' secrets, but that just means that the rest of the team are the ones subjected to your involuntary honesty.

carol danvers masterlist || join my 3k celebration!!

The Cat's Out Of The Bag

Whatever they had injected you with hadn’t really started to take effect until after Steve and Natasha had knocked out your captors and started to wheel you down the halls of the HYDRA base in a chair they had found in the room. You were in no shape to walk, barely coherent in your speech, and it took a decent amount of time before you had any real idea of where you were or who you were with.

This mission had been shaky from the moment the team stepped off the quinjet, and it had only gotten worse when you were captured. As the team’s analysis specialist, you had the least amount of combat experience, and although you could hold your own with a gun when you absolutely had to, there was no way you could have overpowered five large men all by yourself.

By the time you were back on the jet with the rest of the team, Steve noticed that you were starting to become more animated, but you were in no way lucid.

“Woooooowww what a nice movie theater this is!” you said, voice completely different than the matter-of-fact version of yourself everyone else was used to.

Tony and Bucky exchanged confused looks with each other before Steve filled them in. “They injected her with something back there, and it’s just starting to kick in.”

“What is it?” Carol asked, and Wanda seconded the question.

“My guess is that it’s some kind of inhibition-lowering drug,” Natasha said. “Designed to make its victims pliant and suggestible to whatever questions the injector has for them.”

“So it’s like some kind of truth serum?”

“Bucky, don’t be ridiculous,” Tony scoffed. “Truth serum doesn’t exist.”

As you listened to the team have their conversation, your eyes grew as wide as saucers. “Truth serum?!” you said, looking like you had just been told you won the lottery. “I was injected with truth serum?”

“We don’t think-” Steve tried to calm you down, but you interrupted him.

“Does this mean I’m going to start spilling all my deepest and darkest secrets?” you asked. “Someone needs to knock me out before I say anything too dangerous!”

“Dangerous?” Tony asked, a smile crossing his face. “Now I’m intrigued! What skeletons is our dear analyst hiding in her closet?”

It took a few seconds, but eventually you started talking. “I have a stash of candy in the drawer of my desk!” This was something you had been denying for the past few months, but they all knew. There were only so many original excuses to why you often had lollipops thrown into your purse and you always seemed to have some kind of snack at meetings.

Bucky laughed. “We know that already, and if that’s all you’ve got, I guess there aren’t any actual skeletons in your closet.”

You laughed along with the others, the look on your face still screaming total inebriation. “Yeah, that’s alllll I’ve got.”

For a while, a silence settled over the space and the only sound was that of the jet moving through the air.

Until, you broke the silence with a slightly bigger bombshell than your contraband candy drawer.

“Whew!” you babbled to no one in particular, and Steve thought you were probably talking to yourself but didn’t realize you were having this conversation out loud. “I didn’t tell anyone about the fact that I’m in love with Carol.”

If the rest of the team were starting to break off into individual conversations, they all stopped when they registered what you had just said. Carol herself froze in place, looking like she had no idea what to say or do.

“What did you just say?” Tony asked.

“That I successfully kept my secret about being in love with Carol,” you said, clearly not in your right mind.

But of course, the billionaire enjoyed any kind of drama or gossip, and this certainly fit the bill. “I didn’t know you were in love with Carol!”

“I don’t understand why everyone isn’t, but honestly I’m kind of glad because I don’t think I could fight all of you for her hand.” At this point you had a lovestruck look on your face, and Steve fully believed every word you were saying, even though you were half-asleep at this point. “And sometimes I think about leaving this job and finding something better and somewhere where getting murdered is not an occupational hazard, but I just don’t want to leave her. She’s just so pretty, you know? And I guess almost dying is the price I’m going to pay to be near her all the time, I just-”

And with that, you were out like a light, with soft snores coming from your open mouth.

For a few moments it was once again silent on the quinjet, as everyone thought about how they should proceed, and whether or not they had any idea that you were so taken with Carol.

It was Natasha that broke the silence. “Well,” she said, turning to Carol. “We could deal with this one of two ways: if you feel the same way, tell her when she wakes up, or if not, we all pretended this never happened, because there’s no way Y/N will remember any of this once the drugs wear off.”

“I never knew she felt that way about me,” Carol said quietly.

“But do you feel anything back?”

She took a deep breath before answering. “I was going to ask her out on a date before I found about this mission.”

Tony laughed. “Well, that answers your question! I say that when we land, we give the lovebirds some space and everything will all work out.”

Everyone agreed to that, and after a while conversations shifted back to groups of two or three. As Steve chatted with Bucky, he found himself glancing back at Carol. She was no way subtle when it came to the way she was looking at you, and he was glad that for once, something as unfortunate as your capture would have some positive impact. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but from the way you talked about the other captain when you were less than lucid, you’d see the worth in the truth serum (or whatever the hell it was they had injected you with).

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

#3k celebration requests! 🏖#carol danvers #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x you #carol danvers imagine #carol danvers fanfiction #carol danvers x female reader #marvel x reader

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