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luludeluluramblings · 2 months ago

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Neglected!Pregnant!Reader x Yandere!Bat Family Part Four

Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Five

Warnings: Pregnancy, Yandere themes, Fem!Reader, and one more that I will not say just be prepared at the end.

You knew Bruce would find out eventually. As much as you liked to pretend he wouldn't you knew. It was only a matter of time until he had noticed what was going on under his roof. You also knew he'd have a bad reaction to it. You just hadn't realized how bad until the day came.

The attic of Wayne manor became your new domain. Surprisingly, it wasn't as dark and gloomy as the rest of the manor.

The light from the dormers filled the space with warm light that was rare to see in a place like Gotham. The old vintage things stored about made it feel like a timeless, but lived in space. No faces of strangers from portraits or the one's you'd pass in the halls in sight. Boxes of photo's and some historical relics were all over the sprawling space.

It truly felt like lives had been lived from the items you found and not just names you where somehow related too.

You primarily came up here search for things for your future nursery. There was a town home in the more stable side of Gotham that you had been eyeing. A charming little place that could use some time, love, and care. But, it had two bedrooms and you could buy it with cash.

Sure, you had wanted to get out of Gotham. Run off back to the childhood home you'd been left to inherit. But, traveling by plane with your constant nausea seemed daunting.

It was probably the worry eating at you. The new parent jitters. Traveling with a baby right after birth? Sounds difficult. Traveling with a toddler? Even worse.

You had to fight the overwhelming feeling of becoming a parent often. To stubborn to give in or give up. Now, your battle with your hormones? That fight was easily lost. Tears were annoying, but you didn't care how much you cried as long as you got what you wanted. Which was your baby boy in your arms and some peace for the both of you.

You had wanted to get out of Gotham. Go back where there was grass and less insanity. But, you mostly wanted stability and a familiar space. Even if you had to make it on your own for a bit.

Though, what you wanted most at the current moment was to stop sneezing. The dust that caught the light from the window and gave the attic an enchanting look was also agitating your nostrils like hell. It was already sensitive as is from pregnancy. However, now each time you sneezed you felt as if your were going to piss your self.

"A-choo! Urgh, so much damn dust…" You grumble to your self as you dig though the delicate vintage model airplanes. You'll have to get Jason you haul this stuff down to your room until you can hire some movers. You plan on holding the cake and the cornbread over his head for a good long while.

As the old saying goes, when you sneeze it usually means someone's thinking about you. Though that thought didn't cross your mind as you kept having to cross your legs and pray every time your nose itched.

Down below in the cave system beneath the manor, someone was listening into on you. Or trying to. He had to be still pretend to be interested in what Tim was showing him.

"We implemented a new system in the BatComputer that Tim programmed. It allows us to detect alien DNA with the sensor range. Including Kryptonian." Bruce was explaining to Clark while Tim tapped away at the keyboard. Less interested in showing off his creation and more suspicious of while Conner was acting so distracted, for lack of a better word.

"So, you're saying we could use this to see if there are other Kryptonians out in space?" Jon asked curiously, looking at the screen with mild interest from where he's lounging next to Damian.

"Possibly one day. But, this is mostly so we can have a better understanding on how much of Earth’s population is actually human." Comes Bruce's pragmatic answer as he stand stoic still, though with a the ever slightest twitch of his lips.

"Another one of your contingency plans incase we’re all slowly replaced with lizard people?" Clark's joking causing a few chuckles that echo mildly in the cave.

"It always tickles me that you guys watch alien sci-fi movies." Dick commented from where he stood, looking like Bruce's second in command, but with better humor and a better smile. Causing another round of chuckles to echo. Though Conner wouldn't include himself in that. Too busy listening to you sneeze from the attic and detecting another noise in the general vicinity. Something that he has to fight narrowing his eyes at while he tires to figure it out.

"I’m assuming you want to run a test with it." With an unsurprised look and years of working the man, Clark turns partially towards Bruce with an almost knowing smirk on his face. By now understanding this was the man's way of showing off his children's accomplishments.

"Being that we’re the only aliens you regularly tolerate." Jon tacks on for good measure

"Tolerate is a strong word." Damian responds with impressive deadpan, not even a twitch of muscle in his face. Though, judging by the mirthful look in his eyes, he only halfway meant it. Tim himself smirked at Damian's comment before turning all his focus on to the BatComputer and running the Biological Program he'd spent months developing.

"We might also have a bet going on how many aliens are in— What the hell?"

"What?"

"There’s four signatures in the manor."

"What do you mean there’s four signatures. We’re testing for Kryptonians."

"Yeah," Tim says sarcastically while he's already moving to locate the extra trace of life. "I'm still counting four. It says right here that there’s four Kryptonians!'

"Pull up the cameras. Now." BY the time the order has left Bruce's mouth all of the manor's live security footage is being pulled up on screen for him to scan with his own eyes.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary. No unusual shadows. No misplaced of moving objects. He see's you in the attic, which feels him with fear. Your alone up there and so far away with an unknown anomaly in his home. A home you were suppose to be safe in. "Where’s the signature coming from?"

"… The attic…" Tim says seeing you sneeze on the screen, complete oblivious to the danger and fear everyone was experiencing.

Conner didn’t hesitate. With an unknown signature in the manor your safety was his priority. He didn't even care is Clark or Jon where faster. At that moment, he was just the first to move and the first to react.

No one in the family objected to it either.

Rushing towards the attic with his ears peeled for where the extra signature could have come from, you're in his arms before you could blink. One of the vintage plane models still in your hand as you were rushed form the dust and gentle sunlight of the attic to the cold dark cave below. A shiver running down your spine and as the change in temperature caused your skin to prickle. Already you felt a wave of vertigo hit from the sudden rush of moment.

Causing you to drop the little vintage plan and press a hand against the muscled chest holding you while you took gasping breathes. It was nothing serious, but the sudden shift in altitude and climate had your ears ringing and you eyes struggling to adjust to the shadows and artificial light.

You could feel another, much softer hand touching you in comparison to the strong figure holding you, a slightly soothing noise being made as voices echoed in the room. Or at least you thought is was a room until you realized it was the Bat Cave.

It was very very rare you came down here. You could count on one hand with missing fingers how often you’d been down here.

You’re eyes taking a moment to adjust to the shadows and artificial light as you make out nearly everyone looking at the Bat Computer monitor. Including Bruce's guest.

It's Stephanie that's touching you, her hand just barely having been becoming familiar to you over the past few weeks.

“Thank god, there’s an intruder in the manor. We’re trying to figure out where or who or, hell, even what it is.” She explains, which was nice. You deserved an explanation.

But, more importantly, you glance up to see who was holding you in their arms. Noting with mild surprise that it was Conner. You can’t help giving him a bit of wiry smile. The sudden rush of speed and the strength you could feel made sense. “You can put me down, you know. I ain’t gonna break.”

“No can do. Not after you just gave me a heart attack.” He gives you a shaky smile, completely forgetting the fact that he didn't include any one else in that statement. Just him. You were still to dizzy to catch the specific word yourself as you can faintly hear the discussion of the unknown intruder.

“I can hear an extra heartbeat, but where did the signature go. It vanished as soon as Conner grabbed—“

“The hell is going on?" You can't help asking. Having not been informed of any test as you tried to climb out of Conner's arms. He, however, seemed to have his arms locked tight and they may as well have been steel bars holding you in the air.

You turn towards Clark just as he looks at you with furrowed brows that being to rise almost as fast as he can fly. With a few context clues you piece together what he realized and gave him a narrow look daring to speak.

"Uh… I know where that extra heartbeat is coming from, Bruce. It's doesn't explain the signature. Why would of be Kryptonian…" And, then his eyes go wide as he trails off. It's almost comical to see Superman of all people and creatures with eyes growing to the size of dinner plates as realization hits him. But, you yourself are confused. Surely you being pregnant wasn't that big a deal?

You glance around the room from where your held in Conner's arms. Looking at Stephanie first before the others that knew and the rest that were starting to realize.

An extra heartbeat would make sense. The little bugger that's been fluttering in your abdomen for the past few days with his powerful little kicks would be the reason for that. But, why would--

It's not until you feel yourself being squeezed and everyone turns to look at who is holding you that the slow, slightly rusted gears in your head shift. And, your head moves so fast to look up at the awestruck Conner still holding your ass midair like a crashing airplane carrying precious cargo that you feel another wave of dizziness hit.

"So, it was you! You're the motherfuck--"

"We need to get rid of it." Bruce's voice made you words die in your throat with a choke. All complaints gone as you felt something rush down your spine.

This time it wasn't a chill.

This time it wasn't fear. It's was a good thing Conner was built tough, because the hand you had resting on his chest clawed up as you felt violence bubble in your gut next to your son's gentle fluttering. Faintly you can hear it stutter under neither your palm, but you're not questioning it. You're not even questioning the way his arms seems to curl even more around you are the air leaves your lungs for a different reason this time.

This time you slowly turned towards the man who fucked your mother once and face him with a look that promised you'd tear him apart with your teeth. Even if it killed you.

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A/N: Yeah, sorry to end it on the cliff hanger and unexpectedly like that. I just wanted to convey the anger and the outrage Bruce's reaction caused reader. I struggled with this chapter y'all. Struggled. I rewrote it entirely and changed major plot points, but this has all been flying by the seat of my pants. When I do the AU BatBoys x Pregnant!Reader that will have a lot more planning.

A/N: I made a ko-fi. But, feel free to ignore that. I just wanted Diet Coke. My true vice.

A/N: Don't know when Part Five will come out, but that will be Conner feels and the family's reaction to Reader moving out. I have that roughly drafted.

#yandere batfam #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #yandere batfamily #yandere dc #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #luluramblings #yandere conner kent x reader #yandere conner kent #conner kent x reader #conner kent #pregnant!reader

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wandasaura · 28 days ago

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WHAT GOES AROUND (DOESN’T ALWASY COME AROUND)

summary — it’s not always easy balancing your life between being a decorated nyc detective and devoted wife. sometimes, it takes all hell breaking lose for the sun to start shining again.

warning(s) — established relationship, marriage, detective work, suspension, canon-compliant, mention of murder and sexual assault, gun mention, arrest, slight police brutality (its warranted), arguments, bickering, angst themes, workaholic tendencies, olivia benson and fin tutuola appearances, pet names, heated makeout, hair pulling, angry sex turned makeup sex, kitchen sex, oral (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), scratching/marking, casey novak doesn’t know how to relax, porn with plot, men/minors dni

authors note — was inspired by this prompt list! 14 and 19 were used! more casey fics were requested! so, first casey smut in the books. enjoy :)

You | Not coming home tonight. Overtime with Fin.

You | Please don’t forget to take the laundry out of the dryer.

You | I love you.

The precinct was quiet for a change, voices replaced with the shuffling and rustling of paper. Every couple of seconds Fin drops his ballpoint pen to turn the page in his packet, the blue ink in the tube splattered against the translucent package, further affirming that he’d been tethered to his desk for unrelenting hours as the ink dried out. The white board across the room is still adored in pictures, some for identification purposes only, others to remind you all of the nature of these crimes; the absolutely heinous triple murder and sexual assault you were looking into with no conclusive lead.

It had been three days of little leads and dead ends, three days of collecting bodies that should’ve had a chance to flourish before they fell. Women aged eighteen to twenty three seem to be in the wheelhouse age range, no specific hair type, no personal ties to the victims or their families, but second hand parties aren’t always the most accurate account. You’re running out of leads to jump on. There’s two suspects left on the board before you’re back to the drawing board entirely, but there’s little hope on the horizon that a witch hunt through ViCap will bring to light any leads. The victims you know were bludgeoned, beaten over the head with something heavy but not eye catching. Not a bat that would catch eyes being lugged around Manhattan blocks from the batting cages. Not a crowbar that was easy enough to identify on the streets as a weapon of deadly potential when the wrong man was holding onto it. Melinda Warner hasn’t been able to conclusively rule what the murder weapon was, and the clues she’d given you to help complete the puzzle were as hopeless as the DNA evidence your suspect left behind. Not enough to run a full profile, if his DNA was even in the system at all, and somehow not enough to run a partial familiar recognition. You had a fraction of what you needed in a world full of bustling technology, and it was slowly driving you, along with everyone else in the precinct, crazy.

Casey hadn’t worked in months, nothing legal at least, so it was like she hadn’t been working at all. She’d offered a hand to a few people she knew, all behind the scenes, all with inches of space between her and the case to maximize the discreteness of her transgressions, but it wasn’t enough to disperse her restless energy. She was going crazy at home. living with the repercussions of her actions that she’d once so fearlessly pushed towards, but there was nothing you could do to make the next however many weeks or months easier for her.

It didn’t surprise you when your phone didn’t ping with her response right away, lying face up on the corner of your desk beside a mug of pens that have all seen better days. Your signature is wonky as you scratch it along the solid line at the bottom of the document form IAB, finally shoving all of the papers away from you once it was dried and set in place forever that you’d o given your attention and promise to the clause they were implementing.

Fin was still tangled up in paperwork, but he’d also been involved in a shootout where you hadn’t been. Things have been lively lately. Your partner changed like the wind depending on who Benson had on hand to delegate, your cases picked up like a California wildfire, and your home life was deteriorating the longer Casey was forced out of her livelihood.

“I need a snack.” You declare after a moment, the rumbling in your belly something unavoidable now. Fin glanced up from his desk, puppy dog brown eyes narrowing in on you. “You want anything?” You laughed softly, craning your head to psych out his stare.

“Yeah, get me some chips!” He called out, and you shook your head in amusement at the excitement in his tone. Odafin Tutuola was an oddly satisfying character to know. His finesse was amusing at times, when he played the role of the of the grown up hoodrat you couldn’t help but crack a smile, because that was so far from who Fin had turned out to be. He claims that this job hasn’t changed him, that he’s the same Narcotics detective he was over thirteen years ago, but you know better than that.

“Chips.” You nodded agreeingly at his request, stalking away from your desk with a relieved exhale. Tension gathered in your shoulders, weighing you down in a way that it never had when you’d first started this job, but years of surgery, recovery, and injury on the job paired with the natural progression of age and deterioration, well it was no shock that you walked with a hand on the center of your back, trying to work out so knot that had formed tight along your lower back.

You hadn’t even fed your dollar to the vending machine before Fin was calling your name, surprise lacing his tone when he projected through the precinct that ViCap had found a hit to a middle-aged Jonah Thompson, currently living in Queens, but working out of Manhattan with an auto body shop.

You didn’t hear your phone ping when you grabbed it off the desk and shoved it into your back pocket, racing after Fin who already had the keys to the cruiser in his palm. You slid your vests on before you got in the car, knowing that your suspect had lifted a gun from his latest victim who’d fearlessly sought to defend herself before she was taken by surprise and ambushed. A pediatric doctor. Emily Hartness. She was only twenty-six.

You called Benson on your way to Jonah’s job, traffic cameras picking up the last four digits of his license plate pulling into the body shop an hour ago. So far, he’d never moved a victim any farther than the hallway outside of their bedroom, so detaining him in the act didn’t even cross your mind as the door closed heavily on the cruiser and you and Fin stalked carefully into the building, radios at the ready to call for backup if things went south.

Fin trailed behind you, covering your six, the soles of his boots heavy as they crunched on dirty concrete. The entire shop was in disarray as you crept through it. Car parts were scattered on the ground, different tools were hooked up and looking half broken as they hung off of rusted hooks or just flat on the ground. There was no care, no passion. It was becoming clearer and clearer that this man wasn’t just fueled by anger, he was entirely controlled by it in every aspect of his life. The cars were treated with less respect than he promised the drivers, and the bodies of his victims were degraded and treated with as much carelessness.

The entire lower level was cleared, but when you took the stairs, Fin at your nine o’clock, a shadow of a fleeing individual caught your attention, and you raised your gun with intention, willing to shoot if it came down to it, willing to put your life before his if it promised Casey wouldn't’ have to grieve anybody else.

“Drop it! Drop it!” You shouted when it became evident that your suspect was gripping something in his hands, never turning to face you directly to give insight as to what kind of weapon he was holding. “Drop it!” The reverberations of your tone were haunting, and the guy, potentially Jonah Thompson, seemed to bristle beneath the force, whatever he held clattering to the ground. It was light. Definitely made of metal, but light. That was Warner's biggest stipulation when she’d first performed the autopsy. The murder weapon was definitely metal, some kind of steel, Warner had said steele, but she’d adamantly denied a crowbar being your weapon when you’d first insisted they were made of the same hard metal.

”Get on the ground!” Fin yelled, his shoulder brushing yours as he stalked in front of you to apprehend the suspect who sank into the concrete like all of his fight had left the room, disintegrated into the open air and never touched him at all. It was pathetic. You wouldn’t have preferred to chase him out into the street, wouldn’t have wanted to use your gun even if scum like him deserved a bullet to the heart, but it felt almost anticlimactic to catch one of the cities most dangerous killers and have him just crumble because you raised your voice. It truly gave the perfect image for the kind of people who do these unspeakable things at all.

“Would you look at that.” You reached down, picking up the tool that had been dropped and slid beneath a tool box. The sleek metal in your hands was cool to the touch, slightly rusted, but perfectly coated in droplets of blood that would stand up in court. “I’d say we just found our murder weapon, wouldn’t you, Detective Tutuola?”

“Hell yeah.” Fin scoffed, lugging the guy up to his feet and dragging him down the stairs and back toward the cruiser where red and blue lights paint the night sky with color. He’s shoved into the back of a squad car, two uniforms taking him in with pride. You pretended not to notice when Rhettley jammed his head against the top of the car, apologizing through a shit eating smile, before he slammed the door shut and gave you a nod.

Only once the other officers had cleared the scene did you and Fin load up, more than ready to call it a night and crawl home to your respective beds and wives as the sun rose over Manhattan with strokes of pink and practically white blue hues.

You fished your phone out of your back pocket at a red light, sighing when your eyes skimmed the text messages from four hours ago, Casey’s name and contact picture the only visible notification on your screen.

Casey | Eventually you’re going to have to come home.

“Trouble in paradise?” Fin asked, sensing your reluctance to crawl home and face the music.

“I’ve been here since Tuesday night. I’ll be surprised if there’s paradise to be found when I get home.” You shook your head, glancing down at the timestamp on your screen that mentioned it was nearing six in the morning on Friday. Three days since you’d seen Casey. Three days of devoting your every waking minute to getting justice for the women who were lost.

Fin whistled, shaking his head as his fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “Man, this whole happy wives happy lives thing is bullshit. Who came up with that anyway?”

“A man who knew how important it was to keep his woman happy.” You settled him with a deadpan glare, because as often as Fin gave exceptional advice when you least expected him to have a single clue about the situation at hand, he was equally as spacey as any other men, and often forgot that you were one of those ‘women’ he was speaking of in frustration.

“Listen, I’m just saying, somebody has to draw the short stick sometimes. Can’t always be me.” Fin rolled his eyes, and you smirked at you let the unsettling feelings of Caesy’s frustration evade you for the time being.

“It amazes me that Phoebe hasn’t left your ass yet.” You hum, climbing out of the car when Fin pulled up to the precinct, parking next to Olivia’s sparkling black car that she’d inevitably taken through the car wash sometime after picking Noah up yesterday.

Benson was on you and Fin the second you entered the precinct, wanting to know every detail about the detention and arrest. You’d tastefully avoided the part where Thompson's head had been shoved against the squad car, but you think Olivia already has the picture in her head as a smirk falls onto her lips. It shouldn’t be there. Neither of you should be satisfied with the treatment of your suspect, but what goes around comes around, and you still don’t think it measures up in any way to the heinous acts he’d committed. His actions had irreparable consequences, the headache could be curd with tylenol and a couple quality hours of sleep; not that you figured it was your problem if somebody gave him tylenol or not.

“I’m gonna head out. That okay?” You asked Olivia once Fin had cleared out, always the first to leave when he had the chance. You couldn’t blame him, but it would never be you.

“Yeah. Get out of here. Go home.” Benson nodded, waving her hand around before she circled her desk and claimed a spot at the rolling chair she’d grown attached to since the last remodeling had occurred. It was no different from yours, but even you would agree that whenever you found yourself behind the Captains desk, her chair superseded the comfort and lower back support yours provided. “Detective!” Benson called when you turned away, heading toward the door with a hand on your back pocket, itching to text Casey and hope that she was already awake and making her morning coffee in the kitchen, some jazz music playing through the speakers, a song neither of you know, but don’t mind to listen to together silently. ”Good work.”

“Thanks, Captain. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m gonna take the day?” You knew Benson would be okay with it, she’d probably sing your praise for actually taking a break, her most effective and punctual Detective. She saw the sacrifices you made, the way you poured your heart into these victims and shamelessly allowed them to keep that tender part in their hands even after you parted ways. She saw how you let your home life go up in flames because whenever you gave into the desire to just hide away with Casey, somebody died. Somebody is always dying, but the guilt an officer feels when one happens when they’re off the clock is harrowing. She sees your pain, your sacrifices, your strength, and she can see that if your rope stretches any farther, it's going to snap.

“Of course.” Benson nods, and you smile when your eyes catch a picture of Noah on her desk, looking so big as he stood outside the elementary school with a broad grin and fearless blue eyes.

You didn’t drive to work. You never did. It gave you clarity to trek the blocks home after a shift, alone with nothing but your thoughts and fellow pedestrians as you mulled over cases and the bickering that fills the walls of your apartment when you do return home. You’re not avoiding her. Even with the fighting and the restlessness, she’s still your favorite person, your reprieve from the harsh world, but maybe you’re avoiding her a little bit. You’re avoiding the fear that she’s going to leave you over this; that you’ve finally done the one thing to push her away after years of knocking heads and making it work out of determination.

It’s quiet when you step inside, almost eight in the morning now, the sun fully risen overtop of Manhattan. Kids are flocking to school, parents are flocking to work, businessmen are hustling the streets down below with briefcases and leather loafers. But Casey remains wrapped up in a bubble of protective silence, standing out the counter with her shoulders squared, evidence of her frustration painting her stiff.

“I’m home.” You tell her softly, dropping your bag by the island, letting it clatter to the floor without even a second glance. The contents don’t matter, a broken screen can be replaced, a notebook splashed with water can dry or be repurchased. There’s no second Casey Novak on the streets of Manhattan though. A teenager behind a clerks counter can’t fix this if you let it break.

Casey hums, swirling a spoon around her mug of lightened coffee. The granulated sugar is pulled to the edge of the counter, the glass bowl refracting sunlight that splashes across it from the window where curtains are pulled to the side permanently by thin elastic bands.

You bought this apartment for the light that spills in consistently throughout the day. The large window behind the sink is the only one in this room, but as your eyestrail to the living room, they count six windows, and then they trail to the hallway, the setup memorized in the back of your head, you know that there are another eight concealed by bathroom doors nad bedroom walls. It bright, filled with sunshine and warm light, but it’s so cold in the kitchen that you shiver, passing weight between the balls of your feet ass you burn holes into Casey’s back.

“About time.” She hums, her tone dismissive, and it makes your heart stutter in your chest as you consider that its not frustration she’s overwhelmed with, it’s sadness, perhaps even jealousy. That hollow anxiety you’d forced yourself to deal with for hours settles into anger, your head tilting on an axis as you try to make sense of her short answer.

“We had an open triple murder, Casey. It’s not like I blew you off for drinks.” You argued weakly, not wanting to raise your voice at her; make this any bigger than it already is, but it's killing you that she won't even glance at you, or see your side of this in the slightest.

“This time. You had a triple murder case, this time. Last month it was the prostitution ring. The month before that it was pedophile going after previously abused children. How many passes do you think I can give before I stop counting on you coming home at all?! It’s been three days. Three days since you’ve come home!” It dawns on you how desensitized you’ve both become to the nature of these cases in conversation when she screams the world pedophile at you from across the kitchen, turning to face you with a burning heat in her cheeks. You don’t take the cases lightly, not you, not Casey when they reach the DA’s office, not Olivia while those transitions are happening, but in conversation, when the only things left to discuss are your work life, you hardly blink before using the world's worst terms so naturally.

“I gave you a pass — a million passes! — when the roles were reversed. When it was you spending every waking hour at the DA’s office, bargaining for favors and sacrificing your job. The one that provides for us! That helps me pay for this apartment! So yeah, a little understanding would be nice every once in a while, Casey.” You exploded initially, unable to keep yourself together in the face of her shameless hypocrisy, but your tone tapered off toward the end, soft and defeated as it washed against Casey who wasn’t ready to let her own emotions go, pulling you right back into the fire when her hands slammed on the counter and she stalked closer to you with a finger jutted out toward your chest. Without the vest, you feel vulnerable, and when her finger drives into your chest, it’s a sensation as sharp as a bullet wound that shoots through you.

“Do you have any idea what it feels like to be lonely in your own home? Of course you don’t, you’re never here!” Casey bubbled with rage, and your eyes darkened enough to sober her slightly, her lips wobbling when she took in your straight edge jaw and clenched fists.

“Do I have any idea how it feels to be lonely in your own home? Do I?! When you were working, how many nights did I wait up for you on the couch? How many nights did you come in after midnight and wake me up with some bullshit apology? It’s okay for you to get busy, for you to get caught up in a case, but not me? Casey, I invented being lonely at home while you were at work, doing what you love, offering somebody who just lost everything they had a slice of hope for the future. I dealt with it, because I knew that if I made it a problem, somebody out there who deserves the best gets less than for my own selfish benefit. That’s not who I am. That’s not something I would ever ask a victim to sacrifice. I’m sorry you’re bored. But you laid these stones to step on yourself. You abused the system. You went above people's heads for a favor. You let yourself get caught up on the taste of a conviction and you sealed your fate. I picked up the late shift because I couldn’t be here alone anymore. I work the overtime because what the fuck else was I going to do besides sit here and go crazy. I’m sorry that you can’t do what you love right now, baby, but this is not my fault, and I would really appreciate it if you stopped treating me like it is.”

If Casey had anything to say, it got caught on her tongue before it could make its way to your ears. She fumbled over words, her lips moving, jaw twitching, but nothing came out. Her eyes, how they held a million emotions all at the same time, were still alight with ebbing anger, but they glimmered with tears that she’d let fall too many times since she’d first been suspended. You scoffed, amazed at her silence, feeling your heart break in your chest as she offered no ounce of consolation or apology.

You were about to clap back at her, demand that she at least have the balls to respond when she’s the one that wanted to fight in the first place, but instead, her hands grab your cheeks and they pull you into her with an urgency that has you stumbling. Her lips are chapped. She stopped putting on chapstick so frequently after she got laid off. It’s a small thing, something you hadn’t noticed right away, but when you'd finally asked one night after passionately rolling around, she’d admitted that it was just something she forgot about now. She only ever rubbed her lips together with vanilla scented oil when she had someone to go up against, when there wasn’t time for her thoughts to be consumed with rough skin when she spoke.

Her tongue was soft, wet and warm as it licked across your bottom lip, begging for entrance that you weren’t ready to allow. You weren’t so easily moved from strong emotions, but Casey was unpredictable. One minute she’s on a rampage making her problems everyone else’s grief, and the next she’s acting like her claws never came out and scratched at the eyes of anyone in her path of terror. That’s what drew you to her in the first place; that fire. Its ever burning even now, her fingers pulling at baby hairs on the nape of your neck until you gasp in startled paint that jumpstarts the arousal gone dormant in your bones. It takes a second, one single second for Casey to reframe your way of thinking, for her to get you to let it all go and live in the fairytale that exists when the outside world falls away. It's gone entirely, there’s still an annoying anger in your belly that churns when you remember she’d overlooked your own suffering for years.

Her tongue assaults yours, lapping at taste buds that haven’t had anything outside of water wash over them in hours. You’re sure it’s a dull taste, one that winds her up and lets her down, but she never stops chasing the texture of your tongue rubbing against hers, advancing in her lust as she chooses to hollow her lips and create a suction around your own wet muscle, sucking until your eyes flutter closed and your breath is stolen from your lungs and she pulls away because she has to, not because she wants to.

“I’m sorry.” She pants, smashing her forehead against hers. The wide tip of her nose has always bumped yours when she gets close like this, and now is no different. She inclined her head just slightly to trace the slope of your nose with hers, her eyes a shade of yellowing-green peering into the depth of your emotional stare becoming corrupt with lust. Her breath is heavy, hot and twinged with faint spearmint as it fans across your upper lip, peach fuzz tingling beneath the sensation.

Your eyes flicker between her lips, plush and wet and just slightly swollen from your make-out, and back to her eyes that are blown with passionate desire admiration can’t spark. Weeks of silently treading waves have led to this moment, and a subsequent reckoning force is the only way the dust will come to settle. ”Just make it up to me.” You pant before you lean in again, stealing a kiss that she leans into with vigor.

She makes light work of the buttons on your pants while she kisses you, her nimble fingers unlatching the button that had dug into your belly all day. It hadn’t phased you at the time, for the last three days that you’ve recycled the same pants in favor of saying room in your locker for spare blouses, but when the pressure finally breaks, you melt into Casey’s touch, desperate for it to wander farther down until there’s no anger left to quench.

“No, I’m not done.” You pant when she begins to break the kiss, her hands wandering down your sides now as the waistband of your pants sags around your hips, one small movement away from falling and revealing the rather unflattering black underwear you’d carted with you in a bag the day you’d transferred into the precinct. It didn’t need to be sexy to save your ass in times like these — quite literally.

Casey wasn’t listening to you, and that brought every spark of passion back to the surface as you huffed through your nose, grabbing a handful of her until she complied with the guiding motions of your hand. “I said I’m not done.” You repeated breathlessly, leaning in to capture her in a bruising kiss that you dominated for only a second before she took initiative, backing you up into the island until the knot in your lower back met the sharp edge of the countertop.

When you pulled away, cheeks flush, a sheen coating your skin as the heat of the exchange caught up to you, Casey nipped at your bottom lip, trailing her sharp bites along your jaw until her teeth settled around your earlobe. The diamond flat back earrings she’d gotten you for your birthday were cold against her tongue as she teasingly flicked the muscle against your earlobe. “Are you gonna let me keep going now?” She husked, her voice thick with arousal, vibrato low and resonating within your ear as it bounced and tumbled and tickled every nerve you didn’t know you had until right now.

“God damn it, Casey.” You groaned, head tilting, lulling to the side to give her ample room to destroy your skin with everything she has. It’s a learned dance, a practiced action. She avoids the visible areas, the ones that stick out from the collar of your uniform or the neckline of your blouse. The same tender inches of your shoulder have been marked with her bite time and time again, you know the next move of her lips without having to think about it, but when she sinks her teeth into the side of your neck, a spot she’s only ever touched before on the rare extended vacation you take yearly, everything goes black for a minute as you surrender to the sparks of vibrant euphoria. “Keep going.” You pant, not really a plea, but the breathless steals your confidence and Casey’s taunting dulls your senses too much to realize the anger is melting, fading and ebbing.

As Casey sinks to her knees, she drags her fingers down your sides, her touch light, faint and delicate. You shudder, and the twinge in your spine as you twist remains you of the knot in your back. She must notice the way you tense for only a second, because she digs her fingers into your hips in just the right way to quell the spasming in your muscles for a while. It’s a wordless exchange, but one that reminds you she knows your body inside and out even in bouts of blinding frustration.

She makes a soft sound when she sees your underwear, but nothing comes to follow it. Nothing matters to her right now outside of finding pleasure in your release at her control. The need to constantly control everything is inevitably going to break Casey apart entirely, but for right now, this silent moment in the kitchen, you lean into the promise that you don’t have to think about anything when she’s around.

“Open your legs.” She whispers, but without any other sound happening in the apartment, there’s no reason for her to be any louder. A wanting moan falling off of your lips when you comply with the request and she doesn’t waste a second with further teasing. She has no care for teasing right now, that’s been clear from the very start, but you can’t say you mind her ambition when it becomes a tongue licking a broad stripe up your core, flat and hard enough to shock you with pressure that does exactly what it needs to.

”Fucking hell.” You moan, reaching down to grab handfuls of her hair, uncaring if it hurt her scalp that you knew very well to be incredibly sensitive. You couldn't think of anything outside of the fireworks of white sparks that shot up through your core until they somehow landed in your fingertips and toes.

Her tongue flicks at your clit with strong strokes, and just when you think she’s giving you her all, two fingers probe your weeping entrance that pulses around nothing, begging to be filled and used and touched in any capacity at all right now. Casey groans when she finds stringy evidence of your arousal painted along your labia, tangy and delusionally sweet in her mind as she plunged her knuckles farther into your core and let her tongue meet where they met slick skin.

It’s frivolous, messy, harsh, uncoordinated motions that become your inevitable undoing. Casey’s fingers scissors your walls open despite the protest from your body, wanting to squeeze her tight and never relinquish its grip. She curled her fingers into that spongy part, the one that was right beneath your clit that her teeth nipped at and her tongue soothed dutifully. There was no warning leading up to your explosion, your release that had been needed for days on end as you’d found it impossible to relax with a suspect at large and seemingly anyone on his radar.

“Oh fuck.” You moaned, head lulling backwards as your forearms dropped to the counter, supporting your weight as she continued to work her fingers into you, easing the edges of your climax away with tenderness. “Damnit.” You muttered when you attempted to straighten your posture, but that knot in your back kept you hunched uncomfortable. Somewhere in the pursuit of the suspect, you’d stumbled into the railing of a staircase bent to shit and definately a safety hazard — as you were now an example — but it hadn’t fully dawned on you until now when everything had gone tense and loose again in seconds.

Casey sighed fondly, not needing to ask what was wrong because she knew, she always knew when she wasn’t so clouded with her own frustration and envy like a fool. “You hurt your back again?”

“Ran right into a damn gate.” You said softly, still panting, still flush, but less wound tight with anger, more willing to be the compassionate girlfriend you’ve prided yourself on being. “If it gets hard being here alone, I need you to tell me that, not give me the cold shoulder and expect me to read your mind. Okay?”

“It was easier to be mad at you than to accept that I’m the only reason my life is falling apart. Every time I think I’ve come to terms with it, made peace with what I felt I had to do… I remember how much I’m missing out on because one bad guy got under my skin.” Casey sighed, finally maintaining enough mental clarity to find a reason for her hot and cold emotions, and once it was in the air, spoken between the both of you, any problem faded away. “I’m sorry.”

“All is already forgiven.” You whisper as you lean in close, humming softly against her lips when she kisses you sweetly.

#casey novak #olivia benson #odafin tutuola #ada casey novak #casey novak x reader #olivia benson x reader #fin tutuola x reader #casey novak x you #casey novak smut #casey novak angst #casey novak fic #casey novak oneshot #law and order: svu #minors dni ৎ୭

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denmark-street · 17 days ago

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I'll spare you the usual paragraphs about her "views":

Bruising culture war aside, the 59-year-old’s Rowling’s business empire is now larger than ever. In the four years since she began posting about transgender rights in 2020, Forbes estimates Rowling has earned more than $80 million per year from the sales of her books and the vast litany of Potterverse brand extensions, including movies, TV shows, theme parks, video games, theater and merchandise. Even after factoring in high U.K. taxes and her extensive charity ventures, she has comfortably rejoined the billionaire ranks with a net worth of $1.2 billion, according to Forbes estimates.

[...] tickets for her Harry Potter and the Cursed Child stage play were selling steadily on Broadway, in London’s West End and five other locations around the world—grossing more than $1 billion since its premiere in 2016, of which Rowling shares in the profits. HBO Max was also producing the fifth season of C.B. Strike, an adaptation of Rowling’s adult detective novels, written under the pseudonym Robert Galbraith. And in 2023 a new video game Hogwarts Legacy sold 24 million copies, the best-selling game of that year, grossing another $1 billion.

[...] Based on her earnings and diverse revenue streams, Rowling’s net worth could be considerably higher, were it not for her commitment to philanthropy. Forbes estimates she has donated more than $250 million in the past 20 years, primarily to three causes: Lumos, which has helped more than 280,000 abandoned children in orphanages in Romania, Haiti, Colombia and Ukraine; Volant, which supports victims of sexual abuse and domestic violence as well as at-risk children in Scotland; and the Anne Rowling Regenerative Neurology Clinic, which treats patients with neurological conditions such as MS, the disease that took her mother’s life when Rowling was just 25. She has also been very vocal about maintaining her residency in Edinburgh, Scotland, and paying the country’s highest income tax rate of 45%. In 2010, Rowling wrote that she wants her children to be “citizens, with everything that implies, of a real country, not free-floating ex-pats, living in the limbo of some tax haven and associating only with the children of similarly greedy tax exiles.” She considered it a form of payback for how far she had come in her own life, adding, “I am indebted to the British welfare state,” and that it is “my notion of patriotism” to pay into the system for others.

#rowlingblr #pro jkr #jk rowling #Jkr #Harry potter #Cormoran strike #robert galbraith

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theresattrpgforthat · 1 month ago

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Hi there!

Do you have any recommendations for games with mechanical depth that aren't focused on combat?

From my experience I'm thinking of primarily Burning Wheel, as well as Chuubo's. There's something just so compelling about presenting players with strong mechanical incentives and systems to master - while also being able to create narratives that don't need to center on fighting.

THEME: Non-Combat Mechanical Depth

Hello there! Mechanical depth is a tricky thing for me sometimes, especially when I'm reading about a game based on blogs or store descriptions. I think that much of the games I list here will be games I've talked about before, and while I personally think these games are complex, you might disagree! One through-line that I found in many of these games is that when you're not focusing on combat, the next most popular way to play with complex relationships.

The World of Darkness, by White Wolf / Onyx Path.

World of Darkness games can be about a lot of things; redemption, survival, violence, a search for belonging… but one thing that's pretty consistent across each of the various settings is the complex politics that bind the supernatural societies together.

This isn't to say that there isn't combat in World of Darkness. However, since the games are rooted in horror, fighting isn't wise; much better to make a deal, craft a complex ritual, or convince someone else to stab your problem in the back. The complex factions and warring beliefs of the World of Darkness can foment nefarious plots, strained relationships, and power vacuums that have made this setting a fantastic resource for LARPS, forum roleplay, and so much more.

If you want a system mastery that also requires a strong knowledge of the core setting, you might have a real hoot with the World of Darkness.

Gumshoe Games, by Pelgrane Press.

Gumshoe games are focused on investigation more than anything else, with a very specific and unique mentality around mysteries. The core of a Gumshoe game is the belief that players do not need to roll in order to get access to the clues they will need to solve the mystery. However, the completeness of the clues, extra context, and the goals provided that your characters might want to achieve once they solve the mystery, are all still up for debate. This is where your abilities come in.

Abilities in Gumshoe act as two things: ratings and pools. Ratings represent your standard ability in various skills. Pools are points that can be spent to temporarily increase a rating, which is what you'll likely need to do in order to meet the difficulty number assigned to any specific activity.

As a result, the complexity in Gumshoe lies in resource management; determining which actions are worth spending resources, and which actions you are comfortable choosing to fail. There might also be a layer of strategy in the assembly of clues; an astute group might be able to assemble a more complete picture of whats going on, as well as perhaps the motivations of the parties involved, and potential avenues to solve the problem to avoid certain complications.

There's a lot of GUMSHOE games out there; some include Nights Black Agents (spies vs. vampires), Trail of Cthulhu (Eldritch Horror), Ashen Stars (investigations in space!) and Bubblegumshoe (teenage detectives).

Good Society, by Storybrewers Roleplaying.

Welcome to Good Society, the Jane Austen roleplaying game. Play out your very own regency drama of balls, estates, passions and desires.

Good Society has plenty of layers, with chapters, tokens, reputation, scandal, letter-writing, conflict and upkeep. I don't know if it's technically crunchy in terms of math, but the relationships and the way you interact with society looks a little complex, at least from the outside looking in. As a player, you'll be responsible for both a main character as well as side-characters, resulting in an expansive cast that encourages players to be involved in scenes even when their own main character isn't involved.

Playing a game of Good Society asks your character to be strategic in actions not to preserve hit points, but rather to preserve reputation - both their own, and that of their family or loved ones. Can you still get what you want while preserving your reputation? What sacrifices might you have to make for love? Play Good Society to find out.

Phoenix Wright TTRPG, by Rezzy.

FAN CREATION Based on the Phoenix Wright franchise. The players are divided into prosecution and defense parties, and then each performs its own DM led investigation of a crime scene. After both parties have finished their investigation, everyone is brought back together for a trial to determine the verdict.

If you love sorting out numbers, mods and stats to build a character, you'll probably like the Phoenix Wright TTRPG.

This is a bit of a rough game; the author of it hasn't really done an editing pass recently, but if you want complexity, it has it in spades. You have encounters, but since the entire goal of the game is to solve mysteries and defend your clients in court, combat is the very last thing you want to resort to. You'll be using your abilities to collect evidence, talk to witnesses, deduct motives, and search your personal knowledge in order to find the real culprit.

Hillfolk, by Pelgrane Press.

In the shadow of empires, an epic saga of ambition and desire!

In an arid badlands, the hill people hunger. Your neighbors have grain, cattle, gold. You have horses and spears, courage and ambition. Together with those you love and hate, you will remake history—or die.

With the Hillfolk roleplaying game, you and your group weave an epic, ongoing saga of high-stakes interpersonal conflict that grows richer with every session. Its DramaSystem rules engine takes the basic structure of interpersonal conflict underlying fiction, movies and television and brings it to the world of roleplaying. This simple framework brings your creativity to the fore and keep a surprising, emotionally compelling narrative constantly on the move.

As you build your story, you mold and shape the Hillfolk setting to fit its needs. Do you entangle yourself with the seductions of your wealthy cousins to the north? Do you do battle with the fearsome sea people to the west? Or do you conquer the scattered badlands tribes to forge a new empire of your own?

The DramaSystem of Hillfolk is all about relationships and emotional need; the need for approval, reassurance, respect, reassurance, as well the need to punish, to force subservience upon others, and the desire for power. Relationships are the avenues by which you fulfill these needs.

Character creation for this game feels rather simple, but the way you navigate the game feels like it might still be complex. Each scene in the game is carefully constructed, fleshed out with complications, set pieces, and goals. What you can do in these scenes is also fleshed out: you can rush a scene, call for a time jump, negotiate your inclusion in a scene, and compete for the right to describe what's going on. The themes of negotiation and competition force you to evaluate where exactly you'll want to invest the resources available to you, usually taking the form of a pile of tokens. If you love the interpersonal strategy behind social games, you might like Hillfolk.

The Shadows Beneath, by Rob Justice.

"The Shadows Beneath" is a tabletop role-playing game where players take on the roles of Anglers, fishing in eerie New England waters. The game emphasizes exploration, player-driven narratives, and confronting eldritch horrors. Players must balance the allure of knowledge with the ever-present threat of awakening ancient, terrifying forces. The game features mechanics for handling social, mental, and physical challenges and incorporates a unique Certainty system, where players must manage their character's grasp on reality as they encounter the game's terrifying elements.

The Shadows Beneath is not a long game, but I think it's interesting that it takes elements often considered hallmarks of combat games and re-tools them for fishing. You're always rolling to defeat a Target Number, which is typically a multiple of 5. Anglers will wrestle with the environment, NPCs, other Anglers, and, of course, fish. The game has a Catch Chart that the group will need to reference every time you try to catch a fish.

Some pieces that you'll have to wrestle with as you play include your relationship to other anglers, the traits that you have your strengths in, the reason you're out here fishing, and a track called Certainty; your ability to keep your grasp on reality. Certainty can have a big impact on your character's journey; lose all of it and you start taking Dark Traits, which give you sinister abilities that encourage you to do terrible things.

You also can learn to cast rituals, which require you to sacrifice a part of yourself in the process, deal with Marks, which is wounds and terrible consequences, and upgrade your boat, the most important resource you depend on out on these hostile waters.

Nibiru, by Araukana Media.

Remember Your Past. Secure Your Future

Welcome to Nibiru: A massive space station, home to millions, where stories of drama and struggle are written on a daily basis. Play as the Vagabonds; vagrant souls who wake up in the station without memories of their past. Piece back together their story as you travel through the strange vistas of a skyless world, where nature and artificiality merge into one and where memory and identity shape everything.

I think Nibiru, from a basic understanding of the game, looks less crunchy in comparison to other games, since the basic premise of the game is that you fill the character sheet as you play. However, the gradual way in which you flesh out your character (and their backstory) allows for layers of complexity, as you can learn various mechanics the longer you play.

Advancement in Nibiru happens when you fill out pieces of your character's backstory; with positive memories costing you experience, and negative memories giving you experience. Positive memories give you bonuses to various actions, while negative ones give you a negative modifier. There's also special rules associated with the habitat your character is connected to: Dreadlands characters can use negative memories to exert control over the world, while Brighttown folks can get large amounts of experience from special objects, but are also bound to those objects and must constantly seek them out. The restrictions placed upon you according to your character type constrict you in an interesting way, and I think they fuel really creative play.

Ryuutama, by Kotohi.

Ryuutama calls itself a “Natural Fantasy RPG”. It is a fantasy role-playing game set in a western medieval-style setting. The conceit of this setting is that at one point, in everyone’s lives, people get this intense feeling of wanderlust. They put their daily lives on hold and travel the world with new-found companions. They find out more about the world, and at the same time learn about themselves.

Ryuutama emphasizes travel, exploration, community, friendship, harmony and growth. There is also a “Console RPG-like” combat system: But while combat certainly happens, it’s not the central focus of the game. Adventures usually involve traveling from one town to another, packing gear, crafting items, cooking and sharing along the way; getting lost, meeting people and (sometimes cute) monsters along the way; braving the elements and trying to set camp properly.

If you're a fan of traditional JRPGs, you'll likely find something to love here. There are multiple sub-systems that you'll have to maintain to support your party as they explore a world full of dragons, especially regarding inventory. You need to think about weight, carrying capacity, expiry date, and perhaps even price. This might direct your choices in regards to how far you travel before turning around, whether or not you buy a pack animal, or boosting your ability to navigate properly.

Ryuutama isn't combat free, but I think the focus and complexity of the game is meant to make it so that if you do get into a fight, you can resolve it fairly easily; but the rules and mini-games regarding magic, inventory and travel make it fairly clear that the real story this game is meant to tell is about the journey, and the things you find along the way.

You Might Also Enjoy…

Insane Amounts of Crunch Recommendation Post (Without a specific focus on combat.)

Non-Combat, Heroic Fantasy Recommendation Post.

In-Depth Magic Systems Recommendation Post - especially Ars Magica.

If you like what I do and want to leave a tip, you can check out my Ko-Fi!

#crunch #non-combat #tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #game recommendations #dnd #asks #indie ttrpg

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valtsv · 1 year ago

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can you explain what's the silt verses or what is it about? i saw the god-bitten post and got curious

the silt verses is a speculative fiction/folk horror audio drama based on the premise of a society built on polytheistic worship of gods, which are empirically real and tangibly affect the world the characters live in. these gods, and the sociocultural and political frameworks surrounding them, are used as a narrative vehicle for themes of anticapitalism, body horror, alienation, the nature of humanity, relationships between people and how they form and fracture, grief, consumerism, cycles of abuse, and the idea of power, among other things. it draws inspiration from true detective season 1, the works of horror fiction writers such as robert w. chambers, existing folk horror stories such as the wicker man, and of course real life. the primary protagonists you follow are are carpenter and faulkner, two worshippers of an outlawed river god - one a naive, zealous neophyte, the other an old, jaded child of the faith - but supporting cast gradually take up paths that widen the scope of the narrative - paige, a disillusioned marketing executive who wants to find a way to use her skills as a driving force for real change; hayward, a cynical law enforcer aware and resentful of his own dead-end existence; shrue, a controversial electoral candidate hoping to reform the system from within; and VAL, an experimental sentient weapon with her own perspective and will.

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some-bunniii · 1 year ago

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Lucifer jealous with an artist!reader

・❥ You’re invited to a prestigious art show to impress Hell’s royalty with your skills, but someone isn’t a fan of all the attention on you.

x: reader is g/n, no use of y/n.

~ 10.1k words

warnings: SMUT!! Adult themes!

Being in a relationship with the King of Hell has its perks. Such as being able to skip any line at LuLu World, or not needing to make reservations months in advance to the most high-end restaurant in Pentagram City. And, of course, being able to buy anything in the entirety of Hell in the snap of a finger, or, make it, if your man is feeling extra creative that day.

The neatest one? Being able to jump across the Seven Rings of Hell. Sinners are usually confined to the Pride Ring for the entirety of their afterlife, anyone who attempts to leave would get obliterated by the magical security system that detects ring-hoppers. You had never seen it work in person, but the stories made it sound excruciatingly painful. But, no one had ever survived getting vaporized to be able to tell of their experience, so, you weren’t sure whether that was true or not.

These thoughts were plaguing your mind as you sat comfortably in the back of a clean, white limo. Its tinted windows, gold rims, and apple hood ornament screamed ‘Hell’s royalty’ as some onlookers gave the pimped-out vehicle a double-take as it rolled through traffic.

You had tried to argue against taking the conspicuous mode of transportation, opting for the lift that was commonly used by demons to travel across the rings. You most likely wouldn’t attract any unwanted attention or suspicion, since you looked like an average, everyday demon residing in Hell.

“Hop in an elevator with Heaven knows what kind of creepy people you’ll be pushed up against? Not going to happen,” Lucifer shook his head sternly at the idea, “I’m not risking your safety just because

You had held your tongue after that, realizing you weren’t going to win when it came to Lucifer’s protectiveness of your wellbeing. Besides, the limo looked nice as it waited patiently outside of the hotel a few hours after the big breakfast you had shared with the residents of the hotel.

The inside was nice too, the red, leather seats so plush you were practically sinking into the furniture as you sipped on an alcoholic beverage. There was a minibar nestled between some cushions across from you, bottles of expensive red wine secured on racks next to clean, empty drinking glasses.

A large stereo sat at the back of the limo, with tall speakers that flickered with an array of colors waiting idly for your touch. A small TV hung from the car’s ceiling, and you flicked through the channels mindlessly as you held your phone to one ear.

“Just let the driver do his thing, you’ll barely feel the portal before poof! You’re in the Greed Ring.” Lucifer assured over the phone as the white limo sped towards the edge of the ring.

“And I won’t get turned to goo or anything?”

“Not on my watch!” He spoke confidently. You could hear faint voices in the background, which meant he must still be at the hotel. “Trust me, love, you’ll be fine. But, maybeee you wouldn’t be so nervous if you had someone with you like… the King of Hell?”

Rolling your eyes, you snorted quietly trying to hold in a laugh. Lucifer had been bugging you all day about barring him from joining you, but you steeled yourself against his begging, some plans, and preparations needed to be done as soon as you got to Greed. Having Lucifer along would no doubt distract you, especially with the sultry gazes he’d been throwing at you quite often lately, and you needed to get your game on for tonight.

“I told you, I’ve got dinner plans with some of the other artists, and there's work to be done at the venue. Tonight is very important, I can’t mess anything up.”

“I know, I know. Don’t worry, you’ve got this in the bag, baby.”

Heat crept to your cheeks at his compliment, and you smiled out the windows of the limo, your eyes following the winding road toward a large tunnel in the distance. Was that the portal entrance? It was the only thing out here in this barren part of the ring, and it was only growing closer in view as the limo sped on.

Soon, you’d be in Greed, one more step towards the big art show tonight. Your mind drifted back to the matters at hand, your nerves intensifying as you sat deep in thought.

Tonight, was the annual art fair and exhibition, ‘Elysium in Hell’. A famous, grandeur display of well-known and talented artists coming together to sell and showcase their pieces. Their skills with the brush and oils would also be compared fiercely, judged by the leading in the practice that usually dictated how well an artist’s pieces sell during the night.

When hosting the most wealthy and powerful beings in Hell, one had to know whether someone’s creations were truly worth the large price tag.

It had only ever been a dream, for you to even attend a gathering of such nobility. This was the kind of place you’d find the Seven Deadly Sins, like Lucifer, were strolling around places like these for fun. When to you, and other artists, it was the opportunity of a lifetime to make your passion a really good career. As in, spending the rest of your days lounging in your villa’s pool, finding your painting inspiration by looking out into the expanse of the ‘this view cost me a lot of goddamn money’ scenery.

It was a chance to put your work out there, farther than the hotel, farther than Asmodeus’ club. Maybe, into a Goetia’s office, or a Sin’s bedroom! That was the dream, to have people appreciate and feast on your craft, while also making really good money from it.

It must have been Asmodeus who got your name on the list since he really seemed to enjoy your more explicit paintings. Lucifer also could have used his influence too, but you hoped that wasn't the case. You wanted your success to be based on your effort, not someone’s pretty words.

Would Lucifer even do that? After all, it was he who was more inclined to keep your relationship a secret. At least, secret to everyone outside of the hotel. It was hard to keep a secret from them, especially when the manager of the place was the man-you-were-courting’s daughter.

It was something about the press down here being very brutal, and the fact you’d be in the public eye and under its scrutiny constantly. Unless, you become a shut-in hermit for the rest of your life, and while you enjoy the solitude, you don’t how long you could be stuck inside before growing depressed. Even a castle got boring after a while.

But the big problem, was you’d be a target instantly when it came to Heaven’s exterminations. You were a Sinner, and your life was at risk every time those gaping, golden portals opened to swallow the sky, and their blood-thirsty valkyries that would flood the streets with weapons made of holy light.

There was no doubt they would do whatever was necessary to destroy any kind of stability within Hell, and even direct attacks toward Lucifer and those he holds dear. Charlie? Well, she was Hellborn, safe from Heaven’s wrath unless they fancied all-out war.

But, you? The exterminations were created to kill you, an agreement between Heaven and Hell’s King to quell the uprisings, to keep their control over all realms in Creation. Lucifer never had a reason to care about the population of Sinners inside his ring, until you arrived, with that soft smile and overflowing head of ideas.

If Heaven wanted your head, they would surely have it, if they dared to incur Lucifer’s wrath. He couldn't protect you from everything, no matter how many times he assured you. He wasn't the most powerful being in existence, there were those much greater.

Was there more to it, though? Was it some kind of political reason because someone of the lower class could never be seen as one of the heads of the royal family, therefore the entirety of Hell as well? Would there be an uprising among the nobility, who couldn’t fathom someone without influence or power to have command over them?

So, for now, you’d spoil your king with kisses and soft words away from prying eyes. In the comfort of your room, surrounded by fond memories and heated exchanges of passion. Breakfast in bed, lounging the day away on your balcony, staring towards the city.

Sometimes, Lucifer would enthrall you with tales from past interactions with other royalty, mainly the other Sins. He’d impersonate each, his voice almost perfectly mimicking their tones and speech patterns as he recounted stories that made you laugh so hard you almost tilted over the railing once.

Lucifer had spilled his wine trying to catch you as you leaned a little too far backward over the metal edge, his hands gripping your forearms as you adjusted for balance.

“This,” he had said with a breathless laugh as you stumbled into him, before the fallen angel wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush, “is why I can’t take my eyes off you anymore. There’s always a mortally wounding drop that you can’t seem to stay away from!”

You only giggled in response, your buzz making it impossible for you to give your lover a straight face as he tried to frown sternly at your reaction, only failing miserably when you lost balance again from the laughs that began to shake your figure.

Lucifer began to lift you upright once more, a soft laugh escaping his lips as you only sent him a lopsided grin, leaning closer to him. It wasn't until his gaze lowered and he caught the tipped wine glass that had rolled against the leg of a chair, did the fallen angel deflated slightly.

“Look, you even made me spill my drink..” He whined, his eyes sullenly tracing the small river of red liquid that cascaded over the table’s edge.

You captured Lucifer’s lips in a sloppy kiss, your teeth grazing against his skin as you hummed an apology between trailing kisses. The King only melted into your hold as you filled him with sweet like ‘My silly duck’ and ‘The most handsome angel’.

Your hands lifted to cup his cheeks, before breaking the kiss and sending him a loving smile. You squished his cheeks softly, and Lucifer only melted in your hand, nuzzling his cheek against your palm.

“Well, at least I’ll get some kind of buzz from the taste of your lips,” he sighed happily against your palm, flashing those pretty bedroom eyes at you as his claw slid beneath your undergarment, grazing against warm, bare flesh that caused you to shiver underneath his touch.

Lacing your fingers with his, you sent him a sultry smile as you tugged him towards the open balcony doors, soft light basking the entrance to your room with light red hues as you crossed the threshold.

Lucifer growled softly, his pupils dilating as he lifted a hand to begin unbuttoning his shirt, following you obediently into the darkness. The balcony doors shut behind him with invisible force, and wisps of golden light snaked out of the keyhole, before being blown away like dust.

You smiled at the thoughts, your heart fluttering as those feelings bubbled up underneath your heated skin. This was the first time you had been away from him for a while, and it did feel much lonelier without his vibrant aurora that only filled your soul with warmth.

Soon, you’d be back in his soothing embrace. But first, there was work and an audience to woo.

You had told him he could come later tonight after the show started, which had made him beam with happiness and promise to be there in support of you.

Would he appear as his common imp disguise? A Goetia? Would you even be able to tell it was him without those shades on his face? It seemed like you’d be playing I Spy later tonight.

“—will be there?”

You blinked, shaking your head to pull yourself back into reality.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I said, do you think any of these famous painters you studied all your life will be there? I mean, they couldn't have all been virtuous and sinless, right? I’m sure that one guy that cut his ear off wasn't stable enough to make it through the pearly gates.”

“Huh... I don't know, I never thought about that before.” You laughed, your eyes still on the tunnel that was now only a mile away, before Lucifer could start on another subject, you quickly broke the silence, “I’m about to go through the portal, I think. I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Oh, okay! Listen, don’t worry, it’ll feel like passing through any normal earthly tunnel… probably. I can't wait to see you, and hopefully, in that delicious outfit you bought earlier,” he teased.

“If the King commands it of me,” you replied with a honeyed tone, your words “but, he’ll have to be patient, can the mighty Lucifer Morningstar resist such taking a bite from the apple?”

“No matter how tempting, I’ll just wait until I can ravish it in its entirety later,” the soft growl in his voice made your breath hitch slightly, your cheeks heating at the thought of what ‘later’ would entail.

“We’ll see,” you whispered, before pulling the phone from your ear and ending the call. You felt giddy in your seat, that heat slowly ebbing from your skin as the tunnel loomed ahead. You grabbed the wine rack next to you for support as large shadows swept across the limo’s interior as it disappeared into the darkened path.

Lucifer was right, it had honestly felt just like you had driven through a regular old tunnel, if not for the tingling at the back of your neck and the feeling of weightlessness for only a moment as the limo’s tires hit solid ground once more.

Then, green skies cast emerald hues along the seats as you peeked out the window, excitement bubbling in you. You were in another ring for crying out loud! This was a first, and other than pictures, you had no idea what

It wasn’t until your eyes adjusted to the change in hues, did the anticipation died immediately and a frown graced your features.

Greed looked… kind of ugly. Thick, green smog powered from large towards that dotted across the barren expanse. Large industrial buildings nestled between them, most likely some kind of plant or factory.

Rivers of sludge flowed from each facility into a large, concrete-lined lake. There was no doubt it smelled rancid out there, and your nose crinkled at the thought.

The large city that the limo was heading to was the least soaring to the eyes, its towering corporate buildings filled the sky. Flashing multicolored lights emanated from the middle of the sea of buildings, most likely party central of the capital.

As the vehicle rolled down the street, stopping at the streetlight, you were aware of the eyes that were trying to get a glimpse through the tinted windows. Some demons even pulled out their phones, snapping a quick picture of the pristine, white paint that shimmered underneath the street lamps.

They probably thought it was someone important, like Lucifer, maybe even Charlie. Thankfully, discrete locations where you’d be dropped off and picked up had already been decided. Hopefully, you won’t have any run-ins with the paparazzi or anything crazy.

You checked the time on the TV, you were just in time for check-in at the hotel you were booked at. It had been provided by the organization behind the large event, and you weren’t sure what to expect.

As the limo pulled alongside a back street, you spotted an elevator a few feet from the curb. Taking another sip of your drink, you gathered your things and opened the large passenger door.

Stepping over the gap, you hoisted everything onto the sidewalk, fiddling with a few loose items before turning towards the long vehicle, shutting the passenger door, and leaning over to the driver’s side window.

“Thank you, Jeremy.” You called to the driver, a short imp with a bushy, white mustache. He only nodded at you through the shaded glass, before the limo began to pull away from the curb.

You turned towards the elevator doors, before taking a deep breath and stepping forward

After a few hours lounging around in your hotel room, the rest of your day was filled with preparations.

You spent the early hours at a very fancy restaurant, surrounded by other artists. They all looked Hellborn, although you were sure you couldn’t have been the only one who got granted access from Pride.

They all seemed relatively cheerful, sharing stories and techniques of their careers. You even shared some of your art with a couple of nice women that you were seated next to, the one that hung up at Ozzie’s.

“I saw those the other day! That was you? You are such a great artist!” One gushed, while the other two nodded their head in silent agreement.

“That’s really kind of you, but, I’m not that good,” you brushed off her compliment, hoping to change the subject to someone other than you. You refrained from telling them where you worked, or anything about you, really. They may be kind to you, but in Hell, that didn't mean their motives were pure.

The tension in the air was a little thicker than you would have preferred to, but some of your “competitors” came from nothing, and would go home to nothing, if they weren’t able to make a large enough income after tonight.

Arriving not too long after at the large building that would host the show only heightened your anxiety, as your eyes bounced from booth to booth that was being set up with paintings, pottery, and other mediums.

The interior looked like a giant convention center, the walls a blank white with gold trim, a perfect backdrop for the splash of color that was beginning to take shape across the multiple displays.

The booths looked like large cubicles, with tall partition walls separating each artist’s collection. Only the front, which one would be able to walk into the little square to observe the different pieces, was wallless. As you moved to your spot, you turned your head to catch a glimpse at the surrounding work.

Every piece that caught your gaze looked so amazing, and that only made doubt creep farther into your mind at how good you fared against some of these big names.

Most of the work was reminiscent of what you had done previously, back when you worked for Alexandre at his studio. Scenes of steamy interactions between two—sometimes up to five—lovers, angel exterminators with their chests gouged out, and landscapes of different locations across Hell.

You had expected it, and all of the pieces that you had brought with were from before your time at the hotel, or were painted with such thoughts in mind. The demons that had wallets to empty weren’t looking for cute scenes of bunnies and fawns, or angels in a good light, for that matter.

You worked tirelessly, placing your canvases against the walls, creating price tags, and trying to finish everything before the event officially started. You were making good time, and your worry was pushed to the back of your mind as you kept busy.

Which made you lift your head from your work, your eyes scanning the small crowd of workers and artists that bustled about. Some ran across the large, white marble floor as they shouted commands to the helpers.

Was he one of the imps who was helping set up the booths? You had no idea what he looked like in his disguise since he had altered it so only you could see through the lie. There was no familiar yellow gaze or rosy cheek spots that you could pick up from the mass.

He was either not here or was hiding from you. Your gaze flicked up the large clock, one more hour. You turned back to the task at hand, heart racing, and mind wandering as your hands lowered to another small canvas.

“Alright, people! We’re opening the doors, let's get this party started!” A voice rose above the chatter, signaling the beginning of the event. You lifted your head, it was starting already? Time really flew by.

Demons rushed past your display, running to their own assigned section with renewed vigor as loud footsteps echoed from the front of the building. Looking down, you tidied your outfit, the one Lucifer had mentioned earlier.

You had bought it weeks ago, but only revealed it to him right before you left. In your eyes, it wasn’t much different than what you normally do, except that it was much more formal and eye-catching. And, red. Apple red.

You definitely didn't expect Lucifer to react when his pupils turned to slits when you gave him a peak, or how he subtly wet his lips from beside you, his gaze traveling up your figure as he seemed to be picturing you in it.

Patrons began to fill the floor, the large growing louder as demons filed in, their eyes glinting with interest and excitement. Bird heads poked out from the crowd, the Goetia’s tall frames towering above most of the other attendees. They were definitely dressed like nobility, in dazzling robes that brushed against the tile as they moved with grace from booth to booth.

Their talons clicked rhythmically against the tile as they glided past your figure, their eyes landing on the portraits behind you were curious as some stopped before you.

Apart from the Seven Deadly Sins, they were directly beneath the Morningstar family, and were Lucifer’s most loyal followers. Did they miss their King’s presence in his absence? You figured most of them had yet to run into the fallen angel, even with his face slowly appearing across the realm.

Smiling widely, you greeted a few of them, stepping aside so they could take a closer look at your pieces. They slid past you, and your eyes landed back onto the crowd, scanning for anyone who resembled Lucifer, to no avail. Where was he?

“I like this one,” one of the Goetia spoke softly to her lover, pointing at an oil canvas depicting your idea of the River of Styx, the famous trail of water from Greek mythology that flowed into the underworld.

A little girl sat at the edge of the dark water as it flowed past, as if she was looking into the depths with longing. Her hand was outstretched, reaching towards the writing forms of grey, ghostly bodies that peeked from below the water’s surface. They held their arms out to her, begging for help, or perhaps for her to join them.

The girl was looking at a specific being underneath the surface, a mirrored image of her small figure, their face contorted in agony as it met her gaze. Tears pooled from the little girl's eyes as she stared at herself, one hand to her mouth in grief as she reached tenderly towards the sicky grey image that represented her inevitable fate.

The two birds stared at the price tag beneath the canvas, before their eyes met and the shorter male Goetia turned to you with a stack of cash in his hand. You practically bounced on your toes with happiness as you took the money with a bow of your head.

“Thank you! Please return later and someone will help you carry it out!” You waved farewell as they left, their gaze already locked onto some pottery sitting on display a few displays away.

This continued few another hour, a repetition of demons moving in and out of your booth to fawn over your different pieces. Some would occasionally pull out their wallet to purchase from you, while they complimented your craftmanship.

Even with everything going on around you, and answering any questions that were thrown your way, your eyes still kept gravitating to the bustling crowd. Your mind still sifting through every figure looking for any resemblance to Lucifer. He would have revealed himself to you by now, wouldn’t he?

He didn’t forget or anything… right?

After waving goodbye to another customer, you turned to see a red-headed demon sneaking past some patrons, before she reached your booth entrance, knocking softly on the thin walls. You turned, raising an eyebrow as she timidly stared up at you.

“Hi! I’m Anna… from the restaurant earlier. Do you remember me?”

You recognized her after a moment, and a smile bloomed on your lips. She was a quiet girl, her figure resembled that of a porcelain doll, her features painted onto the smooth surface that mimicked her skin.

Anna had sat diagonal from your chair at the restaurant, barely making a peep, but her eyes had followed your conversation with interest. You hadn't tried to speak to her, afraid she’d crack from the attention. She seemed fine around the large crowd now, though.

“Yes, that’s right. Hello, how can I help you?”

“I was just wondering if you had any extra ‘Thank You’ stickers that I could have? I’m going running pretty low.”

“Selling out quick, huh?”

“Ha-ha, sort of. My ceramics are pretty cheap though, definitely not close in value to something like your work.”

Heat crept onto your cheeks, and you smiled bashfully. Your skills were surely not that advanced to receive all this praise, it wasn't like you were some kind of prodigy back on Earth to deserve such kind words.

“Please, I’m sure your skills are equally matched. And, of course, let me go grab some for you!”

Turning, you reached into a box nestled against the wall a few feet away from you. You pulled out a small plastic bag full of smiley face stickers, before turning to face the young girl once more.

“Here, this should be enough, but if you need more you can always come back–”

Your sentence was interrupted when gasps erupted across the attendees, their eyes beelining to the front of the building. Even other artists and servants were getting a peek at the commotion as a crowd gathered at the main entrance.

Anna leaned outside of your display, her eyes squinted trying to get a look at what was going on. You stood next to her, straining your ears to catch any words from the whispers emanating from the onlookers.

‘Someone’s here.’

‘Could it be…?’

“Oh my Satan… it’s—!’

“Your Majesty!” A voice boomed above the crowd from a tall demon in a blue tuxedo squeezing through the guests, his little management pin sparkling gold as he moved to greet the newest arrival.

You tensed immediately, frozen in place, mouth agape, while Anna only became giddy beside you.

“Did you hear him?! I think the King is here!” She bounced excitedly beside you.

“The King..?” You whispered in disbelief.

“Y’know, Lucifer Morningstar? You’ve seen his royal portrait, haven’t you?”

‘Oh, I've seen much more than that,’ you wanted to reply.

Anna quickly scampered off, intent on getting a closer look at the grandiose figure as she moved through the murmuring nobles.

You could see his hat bobbing behind the much taller figures as he moved with grace, the hint of his white overcoat, and the red glint from the apple on top of his cane.

“Yep, it’s me! Your devilishly handsome King, come take a closer look if you don't believe me—woah there, not that close! Personal space still exists, thanks.”

You watched the top of his white hat move amongst the bodies of gawking demons, as they parted to let him stroll through.

It wasn’t until he came into view, with that all-too-familiar charming smirk that made your knees wobble. With those soft curls that framed his face that shimmered like the sun, making your heart flutter.

His yellow gaze scanned the crowd, but he wasn’t able to take a very long look before the blue-suited demon approached closer, bowing low before he cleared his throat.

“It is truly an honor to be in your presence once again, Your Majesty.”

“Of course it is,” Lucifer replied nonchalantly, straightening his posture.

“We didn’t expect to see you here tonight! It’s been a long time since our gracious ruler has been to our event… but nobody had any problem with that!” The demon quickly interjected, laughing nervously as he pulled on his collar.

“Yes, well, I've been very busy these past few years. Doing… important things, of course!” Lucifer nodded quickly, chuckling lightly as he spoke loudly, “So, I thought I’d drop by and take a look around!”

“What a wonderful idea!” The event coordinator clasped his hands together, before beckoning the fallen angel to walk along, “If you’ll please follow me, Your Highness, I can take you through everything we have to offer.”

Lucifer followed behind the man, all eyes on the floor tracking his every movement. Most lowered their heads in respect as he passed, the Goetia’s in attendance much more enthusiastic about it.

Quickly, you backpedal into your booth, your head whipping across the walls for any imperfections in your setup as your mind raced.

What was he doing here, as himself?! Why didn’t he tell you before, and what was his plan?

When Lucifer arrived at the first artist down the long line of make-shift walls, you could barely hear their conversations now that they’d stopped yelling so loudly

The artists bowed, their hands rubbing together in a soothing motion as they greeted their King. You heard the three chatterings lightly, as sweat beaded down your forehead in anticipation for him to get to you. Your booth was about five little cubicles down, he’d be at your ‘doorstep’ in no time.

Lucifer listened with only mild interest as each artist walked him through their different pieces. His gaze kept shooting away, looking for you, no doubt since you were busy hyping yourself in the corner.

Assuming he didn’t walk up to you and go ‘Hi babe!’ he would most likely treat you like everyone else here, and you’d have to do your best to keep suspicion low. That was hard, when his close proximity always sent goosebumps rippling across your skin, or your demeanor to change instantly.

He just had that energy that warmed you to the core, and you always ended up stupid and giggly by the end of the night in his presence. Hopefully, the anxiety of being surrounded by so many people would keep you cool.

It wasn’t until you could hear him in the display right next to you, did you shuffled to the front, hands clasped in front of you with a wide, professional smile. The patrons buzzed around you, most of them still eyeing the King with interest and awe, but some began slowly dispersing as they continued their tour around the building.

“And here, is one of our newest participants in the event. I believe they specialize in paintings of multiple forms, I’m sure you will enjoy their work, Your Majesty.”

You locked eyes with Lucifer just as he rounded the little corner to your booth, that charming smile only curving upward an inch as his gaze softened at the sight of you.

He stood beside the event coordinator who turned to you expectantly, his eyebrows raised as he waited for.. something.

You stared at him for a moment, before your posture straightened with a grimace and you leaned forward in a bow. This time, you made sure to keep your hand tucked beside you when doing so.

Shit, this was supposed to be you meeting the King of Hell for the first time! Your relaxed posture probably looked pretty insolent to the coordinator, thankfully, Lucifer paid no mind to any misstep ettique.

“Your Majesty, it’s an honor to be graced in your presence,” you spoke sweetly, smile widening more awkwardly now.

“It sure is, my dear subject,” Lucifer modded in agreement, a smirk playing on his lips as his gaze rose from you to the walls behind your figure.

“Golly, is this your art?” He gasped, placing a hand on his heart as his eyes drank in the pieces hanging around you.

“Yes…” you replied slowly, quirking a brow at his dramatics.

“Boy, let me tell you, these paintings are absolutely exquisite!” Lucifer gave a chef’s kiss, a loud smacking noise as his lips left his fingers.

His eyes flicked to the small crowd that was still congregating around your display, as they listened to his words intently. The fallen angel met your gaze once more, and gave you a sly wink, your eyes widened at his gesture.

‘Don’t you dare..’ You growled through a glare right as you saw that mischievous glint sparkle in his eye, he only stared back at you defiantly, before that devilish smirk curved even higher.

“Are you sure you aren’t Leonardo Da’Vinci; one of the greatest, most famous artists from the Renaissance?” Lucifer continued, twisting his head a tiny bit to subtly address the staring demons behind him.

The figures around you leaned in slightly, their eyes darting across your work with renewed interest as they listened to their King praise you with such grand words. Even the event coordinator lifted his head to get a better look at a painting, his gaze fixed intently as he practically breathed in the scene on the canvas.

“That is very generous of you, I’m sure you’ve seen much better in all of your years attending something like this.”

“Nope!” He replied confidently, and a few demons that were milling about stopped to get a look at your booth.

“Well, it seems like His Majesty is quite pleased with the display! Shall we see what the others have to offer as well?” The coordinator piped up, clapping his hands softly as he took control of the scene once more.

Lucifer turned with a large, exaggerated toothy grin on his face as he stared at the man with fake interest. He definitely didn't want to leave, but with so many eyes on him, expecting him to play the role he had so meticulously designed all his years in Hell, he could only begrudgingly oblige to follow the man out of your booth.

He turned his head slightly, shooting you an unreadable look as you watched him move on to the next booth.

It wasn't until you turned your attention away from Lucifer, did you caught a figure walking towards you, the man’s eyes trained on you as moved. He was about your height, muscles showing through the tight, green dress shirt that clung to his thick frame.

He had blonde hair, but not as bright as Lucifer's, more of a dirty blonde with hints of a red undertone. He resembled a man enough, other than a few animalistic features like the sharp fangs, pointed ears, and the black goat horns sticking out of his forehead.

“Oh, hello!” You greeted, smiling at the new demon who strolled up to you, “Interested in purchasing something?”

“Actually, I’m one of the people that’s doing the judgments tonight, the name is Ezekial.” The man smiled confidently, lifting a hand towards you to shake.

You shook it, your smile faltering on how sweaty this guy's palm was. When you tried to release your hand from his grip, he let his fingers linger against your skin before pulling away.

“Listen, I personally think your art is fantastic. Such care towards your work, honestly, elicits such emotions, like that one-–”

Ezekiel pointed behind you, to another small painting of two people in a deep kiss, their lust obvious as the man practically ate at the woman’s face. You turned back to him with a quirked brow as he sidled closer, and you could see a small balding spot on his scalp as he lowered his head.

“—it really fills the room with the same kind of emotions, I’m sure even you feel that… passion looking at it right now, don’t you?”

Was he shooting your bedroom eyes right now? What a weirdo. It’s not like you could do anything about it, he was going to decide your fate tonight, and that meant keeping friendliness with the demon.

“You’re too kind,” you responded with a pleasant smile, taking a step backward, “but you’re one of the people judging tonight's event, I’m sure my work is incomparable when it comes to your own.”

“Well, now that you mention it…” Ezekiel puffed his chest slightly, sidling closer to you once more, as he began to fill you in on practically his entire life story. A tight smile crept onto your lips, and you fought not to roll your eyes.

For some reason, he also enlightened you on the multitude of women he had picked up during his career, including the two failed marriages. Did he think that was supposed to entice you to sleep with him or something?

As he droned on, your eyes peaked past his shoulder, and through the demons behind you, you caught sight of a familiar, porcelain figure staring intensely at you.

You almost burst out laughing at the deep frown on his features, as he watched Ezekial only get closer to you as he continued his conversation. His pupils were dilated, honed in on the judge’s back as if he was intent on smiting him right then and there.

The event coordinator was busy blabbing in his ear, other demons around him also trying to get his attention, but his attention was solely on you.

Lucifer was jealous, no doubt. For some reason, that made you kinda giddy inside. The memory of what happened last time he got jealous played in your mind, the time you were thrust into a musical number before it ended in a hot make-out session.

You’ve been needy all day since speaking to him earlier in the morning, and that memory made you ache even more to feel his claws grazing up your thighs, his lips trailing down your stomach and–

Ezekiel only seemed to perk at your hot-and-bothered expression that seemed to seep through your placid smile, and his tone only deepened as he spoke to you. His arm above you, against the wall as he tried leaning seductively.

You felt the heat that was slowly building cool instantly at his demeanor. Did this guy realize he was standing around some of the most influential figures in high society? He didn’t think he was the top shit just because he was a judge, right?

When your gaze flicked back to Lucifer, his mouth was agape, eyes wide in horror as he watched the demon lean in towards you. Then, his face screwed up into a deadly frown, his hints of red peeking from his iris.

You quickly backpedaled away from Ezekial, turning abruptly right as another patron walked into your display, smiling widely in greeting. Ezekial only frowned at your sudden exit, before he was called away by another figure, irritation on his features.

You averted Lucifer’s gaze for a while, preoccupied with the larger number of demons coming up to speak to you about your paintings, their interest peaked ever since Lucifer’s little display of awe. You also noticed that your little cash pouch was continuing to bulge in size much faster than normal.

It wasn’t until your bladder began to knock on your insides did you realized how long you’d been standing there speaking with people. Your social battery was about to empty, your mouth was dry, and you really had to pee.

Excusing yourself, you crossed the floor, beelining for the short hall nestled in the back of the building. The restrooms were located there, and it was hidden from view and only accessible from two small entryways on either side. As you entered the darkened corridor, you breathed a sigh of relief, the harsh lights and the noisy atmosphere were finally drowned out by the thick wall

As you finished up in the bathroom, you splashed your face with cold water to drain some of the exhaustion from your features. You were definitely going to sleep good tonight.

Right as you exited the restroom and began moving down the hall, a tall, curvy woman brushed past you, you only were able to blink before she suddenly turned to face you with interest. She had a short, blue dress that showed all the cleavage. She sent you a sultry smirk as she looked up and down your figure.

“Hey, I know you, you’re that Leonardo Da’Vinci artist, right?

“Yes, I am,” you smiled respectively, holding in a sigh.

“Well, let me just say, I think you’re work is fucking stunning, babes,” she replied with a velvet tone, the top of her thighs beginning to peak slightly from her dress as she adjusted her posture, “and, the art definitely matches the artist.”

“Thanks,” you replied sheepishly, averting your gaze from her exposed skin.

“If you ever want to recreate some of your.. erotic pieces, just give me a call, I’ll be around all night,” she purred with a wink.

“Hey, babe! You comin’ or what?” You heard a masculine voice growl from the hall’s entryway, the light illuminating from the building's overhead lights casting a thick shadow from his large figure.

“I’m coming!” The woman huffed, and she turned to you with a giggle, “I’ll see you around, cupcake.”

Your mouth was slightly agape as you watched her saunter off, your brain short-circuiting at everything that had been happening.

Groaning, you rubbed a hand roughly down your face as the rhythmic clicking of the woman’s heels faded away. How much more crazy could tonight get?

“What are you doing over here?”

You jumped at the voice, pivoting sharply to face the figure basked in shadows. It was the yellow eyes that gave Lucifer away, as he stalked forward with an unreadable expression.

Did he listen to everything? You tense for a moment, before furrowing your brows. What did it matter? It wasn’t you making any advances.

“No, what are you doing here?” You pointed an accusatory finger at him, and he frowned at your gesture, “Here I was thinking you’d be in some kind of disguise, hiding amongst the servants or something, but then you just show up and just start running things? What happened to ‘I can’t handle big crowds’?”

“This is totally different,” he shook his head, waving his hand in a brushing motion as he leaned against his cane, “These are my most loyal subjects, who used to see me all the time when I was much more involved. Not to mention, they have class and a decent amount of manners. What I don’t like is being surrounded by depraved animals that spend their nights coked up and catching all sorts of diseases tangling with random strangers.”

He shivered at the thought, sticking his tongue out in disgust at the thought and you only sighed in defeat. Your man had a point.

“Fine, but I told you I didn’t want you to influence anything that happened tonight. That is kind of hard when you’re hyping my work up like I’m Leonardo re-incarnated.”

“Hey, those were all genuine reactions! And, I did pretend to have no connection to you. But, that was a bad idea, apparently, with all the looks you were getting right in front of my fucking face.” Lucifer growled, his fingers clenching the apple on his cane tighter as his cold gaze flicked to the corner where that woman had disappeared.

“I was not getting any looks,” you crossed your arms, huffing in disbelief. He was acting as if the whole building was ogling you, when they were clearly ogling him.

“You were! Some of those men were practically drooling all over you, not to mention how they kept scooting closer to you. I saw it all!” Lucifer averted his gaze, staring daggers at the wall.

He wasn’t mad at you, but he definitely wanted to throttle someone. More specifically, every man whose gaze ate up your figure hungrily while you spoke to patrons.

Thankfully, in the darkened corner of the building, the two of you were hidden from prying eyes for just a moment, where he could have you all to himself even for a few minutes.

“Please, you’re just exaggerating, what makes me good to look at?”

“Your outfit!” He replied quickly, his eyes tracing your figure hungrily as he explained with delight, “God, it really brings out your curves, especially with the way it hugs your waist. It makes your eyes pop too, and I just can't stop getting engrossed in them.”

He bit his lip, the sharp point of his teeth sticking out as he seemed to muster all his strength to keep from saying anything more. As if his words would only fuel the fire that was burning inside both of you right now.

“I look that good right now?”

“If I could have you right here, I would,” he breathed, his eyes hungry with need as he stared at you longingly.

Your skin practically sizzled with heat, and your legs felt gooey as his words filled your stomach with butterflies. This man was just good with his words, always surprising with you how his lowered voice twisted your insides and made you think all kinds of nasty thoughts.

Not to mention, you've been waiting to have him all to yourself the entire day! Was it so bad if it was only a few feet away from a large room full of nobility from across all seven rings?

Your gaze darted to an open door behind him, could that be a private room? That thought made your heart flutter, and the need to press your lips against Lucifer’s even more uncontrollable.

“Okay, then do it,” those commanding words left your lips before your brain could process the words.

“W-what? You mean right now, seriously?” The king sputtered in disbelief, you had always been vocal about privatizing your sex life, but tonight, you were feeling a little… bold.

“Don’t be a pussy.” You spoke with a honeyed tone as you batted your eyelashes, swinging your hips as you brushed past him, your arm grazing his shoulder tenderly.

That tingle of energy made goosebumps erupt against your skin, and you felt Lucifer tense, his breath hitching as you moved by toward the doorway. He cleared his throat just as you crossed the dark threshold into what seemed like a storage closet. Boxes and other items were stacked against the wall, and a desk holding nothing but dust sat on the other side of the small room.

Lucifer exhaled a breath that he didn’t even know he was holding in, as he followed you into the dark, dusty room. Once he stepped inside, he set his cane by the door frame and his overcoat hit the floor, before he pushed the door close behind him, locking it just in case anyone were to enter in the middle of your session.

You brushed the accumulated dust that was on the desk, not wanting to dirty your outfit so that you’d still have to show-off in afterward.

Once cleaned, you sit yourself on the surface while keeping your gaze fixated on the fallen angel. You watched every one of his movements, your hand supporting the weight of your body leaning back on the desk. Lucifer could practically feel his heart about to jump out of his skin as he approached your awaiting figure, his lean arms snaking around your waist before placed his lips on yours in a hungry kiss.

You fold your arms around his neck to pull him closer, fingers interlocked with his soft, blonde hair that you adore. You caught a whiff of his usual shampoo, that crisp apple aroma making your head spin and heat bloom in your stomach.

You deepened the kiss, hungry for more of him despite already being so intimate. His teeth grazed against your lips, a light tug on your soft skin as a plea for you to allow space for his tongue to enter.

Your lips parted with a soft mewl rolling off your tongue, a familiar wet muscle instantly pushed past your lips and into your mouth. Lucifer’s tongue collided with your own, drawing a groan from him as he pressed his hips against yours.

His erect is so obvious from a mere brush of your hips, that it almost made you giggle against his lips. He groaned from the light friction, hips involuntarily rocking against yours to get more of it. You whined into the kiss, moving your legs to wrap around his waist, pressing him closer exactly where you want him to be. You felt his hand creep under your shirt, his fingers caressing your flushed skin under the fabric. His touch is gentle yet possessive, almost feeling like he’s marking you from his touch alone.

“So pretty,” He mumbled against your jaw after pulling away from your moist lips. His breath hot against your skin, he pressed a trail of kisses from your jaw down to your neck. Lucifer drew his tongue out and attacked the sensitive spot on your neck; that one spot that always makes your body shudder.

He hummed against your damp skin, his teeth brutally abusing the spot by sinking deep into your skin. You moaned suddenly, fingers tugging on his hair which made his scalp burn. His hand that remained under your shirt traveled down to the waistband of your pants, cold fingers slipping through them in a teasing demeanor.

“You look so pretty in this outfit. Gonna keep ‘em on for me, hm?” His voice vibrated through your body and reached your core, clicking something inside of you. You nod eagerly, whispering a small ‘yes’ in response to his words.

You heard a muffled praise from Lucifer before feeling him pull your pants down, pushing them until they hang on only one side of your leg. Your forehead rests on his shoulder, gaze fixated on where his hand hurriedly unbuckled his pants. Judging from how he fumbled at the zip, you can tell he has been waiting for this all day impatiently.

A whine spilled from your lips as he pressed the tip of his length at your entrance, circling it at the area to spread his pre-cum just in case he might hurt you. He’s sensitive; just from pushing the tip in, he has already let out a loud groan while leaning his forehead against your shoulder. Your breath hitched at the stretch, body twitching occasionally as he carried on pushing the rest in inch by delicious inch.

Lucifer’s eyes screwed shut, enjoying every second of your warmth engulfing his erect that is now nicely nestled deep inside of you. Your nails clawed into him through his loose shirt, legs trembling while doing your best to adjust to his size. His tip is already pressed against that weak spot hidden inside of you, the sensation tightened the coil that formed in your stomach.

“G-gonna move, ‘kay? Tell if if you wanna stop.” He stumbled over his own words because of how good you felt, now moving his hips to thrust into you at a slow pace. You feel your walls burn, the pain bringing a sense of pleasure that coursed through your veins. Moans start spilling from your lips, your head growing into a blur as he gradually increases the pace of his thrusts.

He pushed you further onto the desk, allowing easier access to the sweet spot in you with his ferocious thrusts. His sharp teeth bite down on the flesh of your neck, lips attached to your skin as he sucked on the area continuously until dark spots bloomed. He repeated his actions, hickeys bloomed all over your exposed skin like flowers during the blooming season.

The fallen angel shows absolutely no mercy with his thrusts, fully projecting his jealousy into them instead of holding back. He rammed into you over and over again, the sound of your skin slapping echoing throughout the small room.

“Mine, mineminemine. All mine, yeah? Nobody can fuck you this way except me.” He growled while holding you close, drunk on the feeling of you clenching around him every time he hit the spot.

“Fuck, doing so good just for me. You like it? Being fucked into a moaning mess?”

All you could do was moan, nothing else. Words can hardly be formed in your mind let alone a proper sentence; your vision begins to turn white as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

His grin grew at the sight of your drool rolling down from the corner of your lips, feeling a sense of pride bubbling in his chest. You’re in this state because of him, everything you’re feeling currently is all thanks to him. He twitched at the thought alone, a string of curses fell from his lips as his grip on you tightened.

He mumbled something along the lines of ‘im close,’ or ‘gonna cum,’ into your shirt before lifting his head, crashing his lips onto yours once more in a hungry kiss. The kiss is sloppy; his tongue is unable to properly move with yours and the same goes for yours. He drinks up every one of your moans from the kiss, groaning from your sweet taste that he could never get enough of.

It only took a few of his hard thrusts until you clenched tightly around him with a sharp inhale of air, body trembled violently as you came undone. Lucifer quickly caught on with you, the tightness around him pushed him off the edge, hot strings of thick seed filling you up from the insides.

He reduced his pace significantly, now rolling his hips lazily to ride out both of your orgasms. It took a full minute before he slowly pulled out of you, watching the white liquid oozing out of you in the surrounding darkness. You both lean against each other, chest heaving heavily as the both of you try to catch your breath.

“Fuck,” you finally breathed, your face burying into his shoulder as the bliss subsided. How could a man make you come so undone in such a short amount of time?

Lucifer placed a hot, wet kiss against your temple as the two of you slowly straightened. Your bare ass was still on the wooden desk’s surface, its cool touch welcoming to the heat still bubbling inside of you.

Your thighs still ached as Lucifer adjusted the collar of his shirt, before he took a few steps towards an open box, piles of fabric nestled inside. Reaching in, he cleaned any stray dust from the small clothes surface, before handing it tenderly to you.

With an appreciative smile, you took it just as Lucifer walked over to grab his coat and cane. You cleaned yourself up as he straightened his bow tie, fixing his coat upon his shoulders. Before he turned to face your half-naked body as you began to change to look a bit more presentable.

“Are you sure you’re not an angel? ‘Cause those curves are otherworldly, baby,” Lucifer spoke softly as he strolled up to you. His drunken, half-lidded smile was evident on his face as his gaze traveled up your figure once more.

“Don’t you hear the stories?” You replied, honey dripping from your voice as your fingers reached his soft hair, grazing against his scalp as you pulled the strands back into his usual style, “How Lucifer was the most beautiful angel God ever made? How could I ever be similar to someone like you?”

“While I cannot argue with such a statement,” Lucifer laughed, staring adoringly at you as you fussed over his outfit, “If it were you in those paintings, instead of me, Michaelangelo would have been drooling.”

You smiled bashfully, pulling him closer for another deep kiss as you gripped his long collar. You could feel Lucifer’s smile against your skin as he peppered sloppy kisses down to your jaw, and goosebumps erupted across your skin.

Your hand clasped around his moving lips just as he was about to reach the crook of your neck, your mouth clamped shut to force down the moan in your throat as that heat in your abdomen returned slowly.

“Please?” He whimpered against your palm.

“Later,” you replied sternly, before peeling yourself off of the fallen angel. Your arm brushed against his as you maneuvered to walk behind him. Your hand connected with his ass, and you felt him straighten before shooting you a playful glare.

“How do I look?” You asked, one hand on the room’s doorknob and the other gesturing to your figure

“Do you even need to ask? Perfect, as always.” Lucifer cooed, strolling up to you just as the door cracked open and you peeked your head.

The hallway was dark and empty, and with another quick scan, you slipped quietly into the corridor, Lucifer on your heels.

“Well, I guess we should split up to not draw any suspicion. I’m sure everyone is wondering where you went.”

“They can wait,” Lucifer brushed your comment off, “You’re more important than these feet-kissers.”

You playfully hit him in the arm in scolding, and he grinned, his sharp teeth glinting in the faint light as you began to walk towards the large doorway at one end of the long hall.

“I’ll see you later, mon amour!” He called after you, before you heard the sizzle of his magic as he no doubt teleported away back into the crowd.

You sighed happily, adjusting your outfit once more as you crossed the threshold. The glaring lights cause you to squint your eyes as the volume in the room picks up, voices piling over one another until they become an inaudible mess in your head.

You only took a few steps before the dollish face of Anna appeared, a large smile on her face as she beelined for you. She was waving her arms excitedly in the air, trying to get your attention as she cut through the moving silhouettes.

She was moving so fast you thought she was going to ram into you, and you froze, tensing as she reached your figure. Her delicate hands curled around your forearms, shaking you slightly as she bounced in place. You stared wide-eyed at her eagerness.

“I’ve been looking for you, for like ever!” She finally squeaked, her smile only widening as she met your gaze.

“Why?”

“Didn’t you hear?! You won!!”

Your heart stopped, your breath hitching, as her words processed in your mind. You what?

The loud voices were drowned out, replaced by your jumbled thoughts. Won what? The award for ‘Best in Show’, that little prestigious trophy that had sat patiently at the judge's table all night? That was impossible! There were so many better artists here, surely someone else deserved the spot!

Yet, the way giddiness began to bubble up inside you, and your lips cracked into a wide, stupid grin at Anna’s words only made you a teensy bit thrilled to have taken the position instead of someone else. Was all your hard work finally paying off, was your creative voice finally going to be heard?

“I won..?” You weren’t sure whether to start crying with joy or run away and hide.

“Yes!! I’m sure the judges are waiting for you so they can present the award, c'mon we have to go! Everybody is probably eager to congratulate you!”

You felt Anna tugging at your arm, beckoning you to follow her across the room. Your eyes lifted into the crowd, before resting on that familiar, porcelain face that stared back at you.

His brows were raised, a smirk on his lips as he silently whispered ‘I told you so,’ through his gaze. He shot you two thumbs up, his eyes shining with pride. Not for him, but for you.

You sent him a warm smile, before his figure was obscured as another demon approached him. You turned your attention back to Anna, letting her lead you through the small groups of demons.

Your heart fluttered, that exhaustion that was ticking at the back of your mind fading as renewed vigor pushed your feet to move faster. And soon, you’d finally be alone once more with Lucifer, the most vibrant stroke on the canvas of your life.

As you walked, you passed by an elderly figure ambling across the room. You caught a brief glimpse of his features, enough for the recognization of the famous painter hit you in the face, making you almost halt in your tracks.

Was that Caravaggio?

sorry this was late :(!! i took an extra day or two to chillax and celebrated my bday, but i hope the word count made up for that!

and HUGE thanks to @silasours for writing the smut!! i was not feeling it this time but i really liked the idea and thankfully they swooped in to help! go check out their page if you want to see more hazbin works like that :)!!

also, i just realized i’ve written 100k words in less than 2 months?! like 😵‍💫 wowza that’s a lot! a whole ass book lmao

let me know your thoughts, have a wonderful day! 🦢

tag list 🏷️

@ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @sukxma-archive @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @mint129106 @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @lowkeyhottho @wings-of-sapphire @the-tortured-poet @enigmatic-blues @bethleeham @blue122 @cherry-4200 @azullynx @luzzbuzz @for-hearthand-home @helluvapoison @th3-st4r-gur1 @concentratedconcrete @cimadreamer @marsenbie @guacam011y @maxiskindahere @purplerose291 @koumieru @fictional-character-whore @0willowwisp0

#lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #hellaverse #hazbin hotel x reader

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anim-ttrpgs · 7 months ago

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i didnt realize eureka was an urban fantasy rpg for a while and i was getting really confused as to why this noir game had vampires in it before i figured it out

I guess a lot of times we do just call it “Eureka” instead of the full title “Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy”..

This is also giving me an excuse to talk about “noir” and “neo-noir.” But let me preface that by saying that trying to very strictly and definitively sort things neatly into genres is often a fool’s errand, not because the whole concept of genre is useless, it’s just that it’s necessarily a bit loose and subjective. And also noir is a film genre not a TTRPG genre so there’s a bit of translation weirdness in even saying that.

Noir is actually a very specific and kinda narrows genre, which Eureka can do, but not one that it does effortlessly. Eureka is much more firmly and deliberately in the “neo-noir” genre. Neo-noir is, well, kind of Noir 2, Noir Expanded. Neo-noir is often described as more modern films which are inspired by the original genre of noir, taking those noir themes of gritty grounded storytelling, crime, morally grey protagonists, and unjust societal systems, and applying them a bit more broadly and sometimes to more fantastical scenarios. Blade Runner is often cited as a great example of a neo-noir film.

That’s where I feel Eureka falls. It doesn’t inherently deal with morally grey protagonists, but it often will, even if the player didn’t set out to make their PC morally grey it can often just happen because of the gritty groundedness of Eureka’s setting and mechanics and the inherent interaction with the aforementioned unjust societal systems. Neither noir nor neo-noir necessitate that the protagonist be a detective or even investigating anything, but even if they aren’t a detective, they often are investigating something and that leads them to morally grey situations and the seedy criminal underbelly of society propped up by unjust societal systems. Eureka is like that. Because it’s such a toolbox game and also a TTRPG, you could technically play a Eureka campaign without brushing up against any of those elements, but the way the mechanics are set up, the gameplay will always be steering you gently towards at least one of those noir-like themes.

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starlightshadowsworld · 3 months ago

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My first impressions of Bungou Stray Dogs characters: Agency edition

Atsushi: Who is this sassy lost child? Wow you’re just having the worst time huh? Yeah! Go get his arse! Rob him blind! Nevermind he’s broke throw him back in.

Dazai: I just know you’re the one everyone’s gonna obsess over. How are you both somehow incredibly cool and such a loser? Partner you say? I know what you are.

Kunikida: This went from 0-100 real quick. This poor man has never known peace but you really need to chill my guy. Don’t strangle Dazai I think he likes it…or carry on you do you guys.

Junichiro: Talk about the role reversal what were you an actor before all this? …Yeah I’m not touching that. Coward my arse why’s your opening move strangulation? What did Kunikida train you?

Ranpo: So this is what would happen if Kokichi was the detective. He’s fun but man I hope this doesn’t get annoying. Honestly maybe the train system in this city is just insane I dunno.

Yosano: I dunno why everyone ran off she seems chill- and she broke that guys hand. Deserved. Get his arse! Maybe her real ability is just to summon a chainsaw from thin air.

Kyouka: Welk this is concerning. Oh my god help this child she’s crying I can’t. Ah fuck they’re gonna kill her off aren’t they? And I’m already attached. Rip Atsushi’s wallet tho.

Fukuzawa: You know he’s the real deal bro pulled up with his own theme music. Yess let’s save Atsushi! Finally! He just gives off tired dad energy.

Kenji: Precious little guy. But why’s everyone scared? He’s not like secretly terrifying is he? Fuck okay then damn. He’s still so sweet about it though good for him.

Katai: Well this living situation is worrying. Bro literally fell in love and can’t get up. Absolute disaster no wonder Kunikida befriended him.

#ah we’ve come a long way since then #bsd atsushi #bsd yosano #bsd junichiro #bsd #bsd dazai #bsd kunikida #bsd kyouka #bsd kenji #bsd fukuzawa #bsd ranpo #bsd ada #bsd armed detective agency #bsd katai

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txttletale · 1 year ago

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If we're asking about games on your list of favourites, as someone who adored Paradise Killer, I'd love to hear your thoughts on it! I always enjoy your analysis.

so first of all the aesthetics of paradise killer are really good. usually games that were written in english but read like translations from japanese irritated me, but here i think it is very much leaned into and embraced as an aesthetic and set of cultural signifiers in its own right, which i really enjoy. the character designs are outlandish and charming. but what i really like about it is like, the way the core premise works

in most detective games, there is a correct answer, and not getting it is a failure state. you can't end a case in ace attorney with your innocent client being convicted, you can't get the wrong guy in the frogware sherlock holmes games. and this invariably, even if the game is critical in other aspects, tends to come around to a fundamental faith in the legal system and authority, right--something that's kind of baked into the detective genre at a fundamental level.

paradise killer upends that by simply saying "you are the detective. get the facts you need, make a compelling argument, and if the authorities above you believe you then you get to distribute justice as you see fit." you arrive on the island you're investigating and you're immediately told "hey, this member of a disenfranchised underclass did it, we've already arrested him, here's the evidence." and absolutely nothing stops you from taking that evidence and walking into the trial room and presenting it and saying "yep, he did it!" and beating the game! it's not a 'bad ending', you don't get a big popup saying 'you're wrong', the powers that be just accept the convenient narrative you've been given to present and everything moves on.

i like this from both, like, an ideological perspective, and also from an interpersonal stakes perspective. in most detective games, you can't miss a crucial piece of evidence, either because the game will not proceed until you pick it up or because you'll be forced to restart the 'trial' or 'deduction' segment when you game over because you're missing it. in paradise killer, whatever argument you put forward, if enough evidence supports it--even if you know for a fact it's wrong!--leads to the person you're accusing being executed. so the stakes are much higher, right, because instead of a game over screen and trying again, getting it wrong means that's just... how the game ends, with an innocent person being executed.

and more importantly i think it does a fantastic job--better imo even than something like disco elysium--at deconstructing the fantasy of justice. a constant theme of the game and something that the protagonist repeats often is "there is a difference between facts and the truth". you can withhold evidence at trial because it implicates your friends, or misrepresent it to implicate that bitch you hate. nothing in the system exists to stop you getting wrong, in fact your superiors encourage you to make the easy completely stritched up conviction and move on with your life.

and at the end, even if you get it right, if you catch all the criminals--all the time you spend investigating this island shows that, like, the society you're part of is fucking evil! you're all deranged immortals making constant human sacrifices to your evil gods! and you don't change that by solving the case, the whole thing just packs up and moves on. you don't get any comfortable resolution to that or to your role in it. you can play lady love dies as a diehard true believer or as a dissident rebel but either way she's ultimately just another cog in a machine, dispensing an alien and uncaring justice that is only attached to any real morality or truth by your decision to do so. a genuinely incredible game.

plus i like how whenever you open it a voice says 'paradise killer' so you know you're playing paradise killer

#ask

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fandomsandfeminism · 2 years ago

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So we have now surpassed the 96 hour "best case scenario" amount of oxygen point (if they had been alive and didnt just implode, they arent alive anymore), and I just keep thinking everything about this story, and really the story ABOUT the story, is fascinating.

Like, the situation itself has that incredible blend of tragedy voyeurism and schadenfreude that adds a level of absurdity. (The Logitech controller, the camping world lights, the fact that they probably didn't have their shoes). The way this story touches on issues of deregulation and tragedy tourism and billionaire hubris and a condemnation of wreckless start up mindsets. How much money has been spent looking for them, how much the tickets cost - the extreme absurdity of all of it.

But also the WAY this story has been covered. I keep seeing this compared to the horrific disaster in the Mediterranean this week which killed over 500 refugees and the disparity in the coverage and interest. And yeah, I think the issue is that the disaster in the Mediterranean is transparently horrific- it is a terrible tragedy, the result of systemic and complex geopolitical issues that are complex. So many people, and the weight of that is just so big. It's not funny. It's just awful.

The Ocean Gate Titan thing? It's a simple narrative that was obviously avoidable. It feels like a movie with REALLY obvious themes. It's been covered like a movie. It's been dragged out and every single possible update, the viral video of the tour of the sub, the possible noises detected by sonar, the whole side story about the billionaire step son going to the Blink 182 concert- the cast is so small and the level of abstraction away from normal people and their lives? Makes it feel completely unreal and so it can be consumed like the newest HBO miniseries.

Even now, we are getting updates on how they could stretch the oxygen out longer- like a fan theory prediction of the next episode. Like a headcanon for the season finale. (Oh God, do you think AO3 has fics yet?) Tiktokers making videos about plot holes (why not attach a tether to it?). Discourse over whether it's problematic to say one thing or another about it.

It reminds me of how it felt when the Ever Given got stuck in the Suez Canal, but with the added "oh my god, the OCEAN ate the rich" and Logitech Playstation controller jokes.

I'd put money on implosion. These men have been dead since Sunday. It's likely that we won't actually know for a long time though, if ever. But the way this story was covered is worth contemplating.

#the titan #titanic submarine #but also the wreck of the titanic is a grave we should leave it be

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punkpandapatrixk · 4 months ago

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Full Snow Moon in Leo ♦︎ Moon Magick Pick A Card

Full Snow Moon was in Leo on 12 February🦁This is one of the last FMs before March’s Spring Equinox, our true aenergetic new year. With this Sun/Leo/5H aenergy and the Snow Moon’s theme revolving around ‘introspection’, as part of your New Year’s Resolution or something, if you must make a clear intent, intend the year to be one of Abundance and Prosperity specifically through FUN AND PLAY!!🤩💫🎉

That’s just how it is with Leo/5H aenergy, babe. Fun in the Sun~🌞🐈All things considered, wouldn’t you agree that Humanity deserves a LYFE of FUN AND PLAY whilst remaining considerate and thoughtful? Fuck 'psychopathy-based capitalism' and bring in the era of Solarpunk!🌤Abundance for all, sensibly and in harmony with the Planet, something like that? Yeah, that should be possible provided enough of us DEMAND that Reality🥰🌬🌊

Anyway, this Leo FM, whichever House the Moon falls in your natal chart, just know that she’s inviting you to reconnect with your Inner Child🪺The pure-hearted child who—probably—saw itself with much higher Integrity before the hustle of adolescence robbed it of its Innocence🌼

So many of us—and this isn’t just a Gen MZ thing either—have unknowingly sustained so much discipline trauma caused by sociopathic authority figures who abused their power to subjugate us—whether through the ‘family system’ or education system; religious system or economic system; and whatever other kinds of System existing in Society🚂

‘They never pay the slaves enough so they can get free, just enough so they can stay alive and come back to work.’ – Charles Bukowski

One way or another, every one of us was forced to devote ourselves to things and tasks that essentially didn’t matter in the grand scheme of our Highest Intended Destiny. It’s caused so much fear and chaos bubbling deep in the psyche🫕This Full Snow Moon in Leo, use this aenergy to further release those chains and shackles of trauma and fear—and even a sense of unworthiness—so that by Spring Equinox, you’re ready as heck to embrace or embark(!) on a new chapter of Life of Liberty~🎮🗽🎇

It all starts in the mind, baby. What's your agreement? In this new paradigm, if you ain’t gon be walkin' at your own pace and makin' your own rules—sensibly and responsibly (Leo themes)—what even is the point of having survived your Life thus far~?🏍

in the feels: Child by NCT MARK

docu: The Enslavement of the Middle Class on Jake Tran

deck-bottom: Ace of Swords Rx, Red Geographer (Marco Polo) & Priestess of Integrity

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Pile 1 – Illuminate the World with Your Passion

c h i l d – Ace of Pentacles

Do you remember the small activities you enjoyed as a kid?🎲The grownups might’ve called them your ‘hobbies’, but to you they simply felt like things and endeavours that were ‘natural’ for you to engage in. Natural inclinations would fit the bill better. Some of these activities held a puzzle piece of what you’re meant to do well into adulthood🧩

The child in you was inherently attracted to them because subconsciously you were training yourself in the Art of just that very engagement⛳️For instance, say that you were unusually ‘passionate’ about jigsaw puzzle as a kid, this in itself could be your ‘hint’ at how when you’d become a grownup, that mind that loves to solve problems and figure out the bigger picture would be utilised to solve puzzles and mysteries that exist in the world🎯

So just like that, even an unusual pull towards playing jigsaw puzzles could hold a glimmering inkling that you’re meant to be a detective or a criminologist or a psychologist, or whatever resonates, really🏸OK, so this is just one example of a scenario—bottom line is: remember some activities that you used to be so unusually drawn to doing and get refamiliarized with them NOW~🌞

p l a y – 7 of Wands Rx

Why? Because the ignited passion—or reignited if you’d forgotten them for a while—could open up a path of understanding deep within your psyche, what would lead you to figuring out what you’re meant to do in this next chapter of your Life~!🔥Leo is the ruler of the 5H, there lies our hobbies and innate, even special, interests what would LINK us with others of similar views and values☃️❄️⛄️

Those other people with similar tastes and possibly even goals, can be understood by your 11H—House of Aquarius; House of our Communities. Here with the 7 of Wands in reverse, you’re being invited to redefine what ‘networking’ means for you on a deeply spiritual fashion. Who are your people, babe? Actually, what kind of person do you even want to be perceived as?🍂

You VIBE attracts your TRIBE, remember? And most importantly, with all of these natural inclinations that you are surely very apt at, what do you want to do with them and who do you want to inspire?🌻What typa collective can you uplift with your warm sunshine? Hmm, people who live passionately are indeed warm🥰

i n n o c e n c e – 2 of Cups

As you maintain your vibrations high and feel safe in your daily activities that are, hopefully, aligned with your 5H inclinations, you’ll be met with miraculous situations where the Universe puts people and events in your path what would only enhance your experience in those 5H pursuits that you resonate with🥁

In essence, with this Full Snow Moon in Leo, I’m seeing that you’ll feel much less burdened by the duties of Life that in the grand scheme of everything don’t feel that big for your Soul🪕You get that? I don’t see you becoming irresponsible, not at all; I’m only seeing you more able to prioritise what’s truly, truly essential to do at a given time🎲

And so, with that renewed mindset, or attitude, so to speak, you become less and less hard on yourself and even less do you give a fuck about what others think about the stage/phase of your Life’s development right now💖It’s very liberating, but even more importantly, you’ll see just how fast you manifest everything that’s essential to you right now by just being… lighthearted and easy-going💝

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Red Astrologer (William Lilly) & Priestess of Illumination

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Sparkles of Courage in a Terrified World

c h i l d – Knight of Cups Rx

Wow, the appearance of the Knight of Cups in reverse here is very unique for you, Pile 2. Rather than this being you, I feel more strongly that this card is depicting your understanding of how the people around you, or the world in general, tend to be such timid creatures🐇It’s like, from quite a young age you were already deeply aware, if not disturbed, by the fact that most people were never brave enough to follow their own passions. They’re afraid of listening to their own hearts; and it has always been such a bummer for you to realise that all by yourself🐋

Generally speaking, it’s because you’re one of those very brave individuals who’d always put yourself first before anybody else’s opinions or demands. It’s because you’re quite ‘spiritual’ in the sense that you truly believe in what or where your Heart tells you to go~🐾

Funny thing is, there is simply so much medicine in this courage, reserved for only those who are also finding ways to listen more to their Hearts. But for others who’ve devoted themselves to being sheeples? You appear kinda reckless and they’re gonna have a field trip gossiping about you when you make just one tiny mistake… but so what?🌚

p l a y – Knight of Wands

All the geniuses in the world take pleasure in self-experimentation. When it comes to experiments, my gosh, errors mistakes and failures are bound to happen. It’s normal for you but not for stupid, unimaginative, unoriginal, non-innovative bitches. So you don’t have to listen to their dismissal. Keep being you and keep shining your Light—more like, keep warming the world with the Fire in your Heart. We all know the world right now could do with more of that❤️‍🔥

I dunno why your aenergy keeps making me think of Jennie Kim hahah But anyway, this FM in Leo wants to remind you that a person such as yourself, simply with the amount of passion that you possess, can be a significant healing presence in the lives of others. If you just focus on this aspect of yourself, you’ll soar higher faster because you’re making that conscious choice of thinking very highly of yourself🎀

It’s surely not narcissism; it’s self-love, self-respect, coz you’re obviously not stupid enough to not be able to see your effects on people🪬This year, embrace this of yourself more and more and before long… wow, I don’t even know what’s in store for you this year, but something BIG is literally just around the corner and you're attracting it fast by your positive outlook!⏳

i n n o c e n c e – 9 of Wands Rx

No more being hard on yourself just for people-pleasing this year! ‘I ain’t making myself smaller so it’s easy for you to digest me anymore. Y’all can choke,’ is your MANTRA this year—more than any other years you’ve lived thus far lmao The essence of your innocence this year is that you’re carrying yourself back to calm waters. No more wars—not the ones INSIDE of your head. You got that?🌊

If you’re gonna go to war this time around, it’s a war with the sick world where you’re EJECTING yourself from either the rat race or the brainwash of smallness. You were born big, meant to be big, and even bigger still you’re gonna prove yourself to be. You have all the power in you to inspire the world around you. But first, reconnect with the joy of being alive💐

I think it’s joie de vivre in French? ‘Exuberant enjoyment of Life’. That sounds like something you’d find in any Ghibli movie hahah Enjoy something creative. Eat what you want when you want and sleep as much or as little as it is sensible to you. You’re learning to live again, but more importantly, you’re learning to really show up AS YOURSELF, unapologetically🍍

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Green Historian (Herodotus) & Priestess of Inspiration

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – Lighten Up, You’re Only One You

c h i l d – King of Swords Rx

Do you often feel like you’re responsible for other people’s wellbeing? You could’ve felt this way since you were a kid, yeah? For some, it could’ve been that you grew up in a toxic environment where you were constantly put on the spotlight or you were made to feel like you were always the one with everything to prove. Either way, this caused you to develop a rather frantic way of dealing with duties and a sense of responsibility🤨

It could’ve felt like the burden of the whole world was on your shoulders. If you don’t take charge of a situation well enough, you fear that someone’s responses or reactions could be calamitous. In a sense, you couldn’t help but develop a ‘hero complex’ or ‘saviour complex’ in which most of the time you were just trying to save yourself from other people’s wrath😖

Babe, I’m just saying, this ain’t healthy. But of course you know that. And if you’re reading this and this is your main pile, I’d like to validate your experiences and confirm to you that you’re well on your way out of this sad programming. Baby, baby, the world is healing and so are you~💋🧠⛑

p l a y – 3 of Pentacles Rx

We’ve entered a new paradigm, right? In this new wave of consciousness, we’re no longer tolerating situations and environments where we are made to feel inadequate or hard to love. I see that you’re further separating yourself from that old wave of consciousness. If you’ve actually made the decision to ‘leave that old world’ a long time ago, I see that recently you could’ve just been dealing with some remnants of a heartbreak🪡

All things considered, your Spirit Guides are convincing you that you’re already in safe waters. But more importantly than that, the ‘waters’ in your brains—the chemicals—are returning to balance! Are you feeling this or not, babe?🤩

In a strange way of saying it, I see that you’re gradually taking back your sanity. There’s this feeling like, ‘Where have I been the last xx months/years?’ Or you could simply feel like the peace and calm and the certainty that you’re feeling now is exactly the natural state of being you 'should’ve been able' to access from a long time ago. It’s that kind of a feeling~😑

i n n o c e n c e – 4 of Wands Rx

But of course, it isn’t to say that your hardships up until now didn’t serve a purpose, right? I know all of us are sick of being told this kind of thing lmao But it’s so true for reasons that may be too convoluted. But since the Priestess of Protection is accompanying you here, I’d like to say that your hardships were not at all ‘part of your karma’ in the sense of you having done something bad in a different lifetime😷

If this has been your main message, I hope you know that without a doubt you are a Lightworker of sort. You have this ‘supernatural ability’ to transmute some negative karma in this world. I think that’s exactly why you chose to be born in tough situations and upbringing, all so that you could exercise your Lightwork on those types of situations. The ripple effect will be felt by all inhabiting Planet Earth, you know😊

That said, this FM in Leo would love to just say that the hard part of your Lightworker training is over. All that needed doing and seeing is seen and done. You’re no longer responsible for other people’s lack of common sense nor are you to blame when somebody else is lacking empathy when viewing a situation🧳All of the understanding and compassion you’ve ever poured into the 'wrong people'… all of that you give to yourself now. Be happy, child. You were only a child~😜

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Red Magus (Edward Kelly) & Priestess of Protection

Access bonus, cards + affs on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

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mournstera · 2 years ago

Text

Bloomy— a responsive, single-column theme with a sidebar

Static previews: - Preview: left sidebar - Preview: right sidebar

Download code: GitHub

This is a single-column Tumblr theme with an option between a left or right sidebar, with a Google font of your choosing. Full support of npf posts. Optional dark/light mode toggle available. With 3 tabs included in the sidebar - show info, navigation and updates tab.

Read features and notes below the cut

Customize colours for dark and light mode Customize 2 gradient colours (home button in the sidebar)

Customizable post margin

Custom title + description field boxes

Select font-size (11-18px)

Select Post-width (350-540px)

Select photoset gutter (1-4px)

Select displayed tags or upon a toggle

Select post info displayed as text or icons

Toggle between shadows or no shadows

Toggle between sharp or round corners on content

Toggle between displaying or hiding Tumblr controls behind an icon.

Toggle to center post column

Navigation: An unlimited display of native Tumblr pages within a dropdown. Learn how they work in my FAQ here. Custom home archive + ask titles.

Search bar: The search bar will automatically be hidden if you have the option to discourage searching your blog from search results enabled. Go to your blog’s settings to do so.

Sidebar Image: 60x60px. Choose a size between shapes square, rounded, circle or blob. Separate icons for light and dark mode! But If you want the same icon, simply upload it twice.

Dark Mode: If you decide to offer dark mode, it detects if visitor’s operating system is on dark mode, and displays that choice at the first visit - of course with the option to toggle the other mode on/off.

Tabs in sidebar: to hide a tab in the tab sidebar, delete the text in the corresponding field. Example: "Tab 3 Title" for the update tab. Learn about how to change icons further down under icon change.

Icon change: To change the icons in the tabs sidebar or in the update tab, go to phosphoricons.com and simply copy the name of the icon like so:

Into the corresponding field:

Notes:

Via/source links are on permalink pages

to hide the archive link, simply delete the text in the field.

Submit-link and ask-link only shows if toggled on in your blog settings.

Credits

#theme hunter #themehunter #dailythemes #themes #tumblr themes #resourcemarket #supportcontentcreators #whew #this is a mix of *3* different old themes never released lol #with updated features of course #codes by me

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theresattrpgforthat · 16 days ago

Note

Ok I know this sounds specific, but do you know any good investigation/mystery games that AREN'T Eureka?

THEME: Non-Eureka Mystery Games.

Hello friend! I've got quite a few recommendations for you, especially at the end of this post! I hope that one way or another, your mystery game craving is sated!

Delta Green, by Arc Dream Publishing.

WELCOME TO THE APOCALYPSE

Born of the U.S. government’s 1928 raid on the degenerate coastal town of Innsmouth, Massachusetts, the covert agency known as Delta Green spent four decades opposing the forces of darkness with honor, but without glory. Stripped of sanction after a disastrous 1969 operation in Cambodia, Delta Green’s leaders made a secret pact: to continue their work without authority, without support, and without fear. Delta Green agents slip through the system, manipulating the federal bureaucracy while pushing the darkness back for another day—but often at a shattering personal cost.

In Delta Green: The Role-Playing Game, you are one of those agents. You’re the one they call when unnatural horrors seep into the world. You fight to keep cosmic evil from claiming human lives and sanity. You conspire to cover it all up so no one else must see what you’ve seen—or learn the terrible truths you’ve discovered.

I don't think I can do a better job of recommending Delta Green than Quinns from Quinns Quest, but since his review is an hour long, I'll summarize: Delta Green is a heavy trad game that takes much of the horror of Call of Cthulhu and revitalizes the genre by turning you into everyday government workers pulled into investigations at the cost of their peace of mind. The rules of the game seem to be pretty down-to-earth and detailed, but the mundanity of the core of the game is what allows the horror of the adventures to well and truly pop. In his review, Quinns mentions that for much of the investigative parts of the game, a well-built crew will hardly ever have to roll to gather clues - which means that solving the mystery is doable, smooth, and makes room for plenty of interesting story once you start putting the pieces together.

Detect Or Die, by silkandstone.

Discover who you were. Decide who you are. Solve the Case. A tabletop RPG of neo-noir empiricism, unstable detectives, and total ego death & resurrection. Inspired by science fiction stories of memory and detection like Blade Runner (1982) and Disco Elysium (2019), Detect or Die places the players as the various inner voices of the Detective, collectively embodying the fractured psyche of an amnesiac protagonist attempting to solve the Case - whatever that entails.

One player takes on the role of the World, laying out the setting and mystery for the rest, using a bespoke variation of the Powered by the Apocalypse game engine influenced by Blades in the Dark and Bluebeard's Bride. The rest play Personality Components, the fragments of the Detective's Ego who combine investigative competencies with erratic coping mechanisms, trading off control and emotional stamina to make it through the Case to the ultimate revelations - about the World and about the Detective.

I'm intrigued about the pattern of mystery games and their attachment to systems that encourage you to inflict negative changes to your character as they discover more and more about the truth over the course of play. Detect or Die is unique in that all of the players are technically embodying the same character, or rather, fractured pieces of them. The pull from Disco Elysium gives you some really unique and iconic terminology, such as Exofamiliarity (a skill), Heartbleed (a skill), and Egghead (an archetype). I think it's also fascinating that Detect or Die pulls threads from Bluebeard's Bride, which is also about many facets of a personality inhabiting one person, but is a much different, very horrific kind of game.

The creator of this game has released a free case: The Case of the Signal Fire, as well as an example of play for folks who might want to get a taste of what the game is about. I still feel a little bit out of my depth with this game, and I suspect that's because I'm unfamiliar with much of Disco Elysium, but the combination of PbtA and Blades in the Dark rules certainly has me intrigued.

Elementary, by Black Armada Games.

Elementary is an Agatha Christie-esque game of convoluted relationships, seemingly insoluble mysteries and quirky detectives who solve them. It is GM-less: you take turns to introduce clues one at a time, building up a picture of the murder and who might have done it. And, it's competitive. You each have a preferred suspect and you try to introduce clues that will implicate them. At the end, like the movie Clue, you each create an alternate ending where the detective accuses your target suspect.

If you really like watching mysteries with friends and trying to guess who the murderer is before they are actually revealed, you might enjoy Elementary. It feels like the GM-less format is meant to allow you to play the game competitively if you wish, and GM-less games also typically spread out the burden of rules-knowledge, which means that this game might be easier to pick up if your group has a hard time deciding who should be the GM. Judging by the store page, you might be able to learn how to play Elementary in a way similar to how you might learn a board-game, and that's another strong point in its favor in my book.

Red Harvest: Mystery on Mars, by fuzztech.

RED HARVEST: MYSTERY ON MARS is a one-shot tabletop roleplaying game based on the 1929 novel RED HARVEST by Dashiell Hammett.

Play as a private investigator from the Galactic Detective Agency. You have been hired to investigate a mining colony on Mars. It looks like it��s going to be a routine case. That is, until your client turns up dead at the dig site. It’s up to you to solve the case, and unravel the mystery of the mine.

Includes Player Manual (1 page) with rules for character creation and taking actions, and Game Master Manual (3 pages) with a pre-written mystery scenario and supplemental materials.

Mysteries… in space!

Red Harvest is a relatively simple mystery game with four basic backgrounds for your character, with two skills per background. The game is meant to be a one-shot, with the mystery and setting laid out for the GM, as well as a map for the players to move through and investigate. Equal parts mystery, sci-fi and horror, this is a great game for folks who want a one-and-done taste of roleplay, and might even be a great introduction to the hobby!

Unravelled Knots, by Emily Cambias.

Each Saturday, a rag-tag group convenes in a dusty tea-room to discuss the criminal cases detailed in their local newspaper. Their leader is the mysterious Old Man in the Corner, whose knowledge of each case (and the true perpetrators of each crime) seems unmatched. From each newspaper headline, he extrapolates the truth of What Really Happened to these victims, and the missing pieces of each case that escaped the bumbling authorities—aided by his eager listeners and his trusty piece of string. Based on the book Unravelled Knots and The Old Man in the Corner by Baroness Orczy.

Instead of dice or cards, Unravelled Knots uses a piece of string as a measuring tool for when your story is coming to an end. It's less like a traditional mystery game and more a collaborative storytelling exercise, with each player taking turns adding clues to the mystery as well as offering up reasons as to why those clues bring you closer to the real answer. You take turns playing The Old Man in the Corner, who acts as a sort of Poirot or Sherlock, in that he presumably holds the knowledge about What Really Happened. You also pick up other roles that are meant to introduce new clues, such as the details of the crime scene, the gossip surrounding various suspects, and the real state of the deceased's finances. If you like Agatha Christie novels, you might enjoy Unravelled Knots.

The Road Ahead, by WendigoWorkshop.

In The Road Ahead… you play as a group of young adults returning to their hometown for a summer of fun, parties and nostalgia. After one of their close friends suddenly disappears, new and old feelings stir, eventually getting them involved in the case. Through the carefree lens of an eighteen-something, uncover the truth and make sure it is the best summer of your life!

This game uses a deck of playing cards to provide resources for the characters, as well as dice to help resolve decisive actions. Built on the Songs and Sagas SRD, it's meant to be inspired be OSR-style play, with a flowchart to help the GM put a story together - a kind of adventure-builder, if you will.

The Road Ahead doesn't feel like it's solely a mystery game: your character is probably going to get into dire situations that they need to fight themselves out of, and if the right consequences happen, it feels like there's also personal fallout that each character might have to deal with, which feels very iconic of games about teens and young adults.

Haunted Echoes, by gaa_txt.

Have you ever wondered who died when the echo of a bell toll reached your ear?

Who died when the masked man descended from their black church to burn the flesh of the forgotten? Some say there aren’t enough of them to give names to the bodies, find the culprit. Even worse when you slip through their fingers, the only thing you can do is return as the worst memory you ever had, hoping your loved ones aren’t a part of it.

HAUNTED ECHOES is a lightweight TTRPG focused on one-shots and short term games where we play as weird detectives in the rainy streets of a fantasy Victorian city. Use your talents to gather clues, solve cases, banish ghosts, deal with elemental demons and ruthless scoundrels while trying to search for an answer to the question that haunts your very being.

This game combines mystery with the paranormal, giving your investigators technical and/or supernatural abilities that will help them try to solve a mystery of using a clock that is reminiscent of the same mystery clock found in games such as Bump in the Dark, or Brindlewood Bay. The game is a stripped-down Forged in the Dark rule-set, with play-sheets that are less differentiated than a typical playbook, a brief overview on how to run the game, and plenty of cases, questions, and details to help put together a mystery as well as flavorful characters to learn about as you play.

Some Days, You Just Can't Get Rid of a Body, by C.R. Legge.

You have received a letter that you hoped to never get. The one person that could ruin your life has invited you to a party, and wishes to discuss things…

As you arrive at the old mansion, they find you and ask that you meet them in a side room at a specific time. When the time comes you see a few others moving towards the room as well. Cautiously, you all enter the room and see them standing in front of the fireplace, arm against the wall. Before anyone can say anything, your host falls backwards onto the floor, dead.

You all had a reason to want them out of the picture. Unless you find out who really killed them, any of you could be framed for the murder…

This game is unique in that everyone who sits down to play must embody someone who had a reason to kill the central character. What I think is absolutely hilarious about this little game is the fact that since all of your characters are suspects, you as a group must carry the body of the victim with you around the house, to prevent NPCs from discovering their death. I can think of so many shenanigans a crew could get up to in trying to solve the crime while also keeping the key piece of evidence out of everyone else's hands.

Games I've Recommended in the Past...

One More Thing, by Nathan D. Paoletta.

Brindlewood Bay, by The Gauntlet.

After the Mind, the World Again, by Aster F.

Grandmothership, by Armanda.

Film Noir Game Recommendations

Mysteries Recommendation Post

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#mysteries #investigation #mystery #tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #game recommendations #dnd #asks #indie ttrpg

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