#slowly chipping away at the campaign little by little

[mugwot]

gourmand: the best murder potato but how do i miss being able to throw spears without dying of asthma

[taintandviolent]

Stalked - Kai Anderson x Reader

summary & wordcount: 2.6K! After breaking up with Kai, he decides you need a little reminder of what once was. idea requested by @kaislittlelamb originally!

w a r n i n g s: smut with very little plot, implied stalking, toxic relationships, throat fucking, blowjobs, Kai being Kai, violence, aggression.

a/n: this was originally a drabble, but got longer - very quickly written, sorry if it's horrible! definitely not my best. thanks for reading it, if you did!!! no taglist this time because it's a pain in the bootay.

full fic under cut!↓ / ao3 link here! /

You'd met with Zack a few times now, but this was the first time you two had actually gotten to talk and get to know each other. He was cute, in a very boy next door sort of way; physically fit, a tousled mess of brown curls, bright green eyes, and bright, white teeth that probably got whitened bi-weekly.

"So, anyways, I moved here about three months ago after my mom moved here, and with her needing help, I figured I might as well stay." 

"Nice." You grinned. 

"Yeah, so I'm definitely still learning the best spots to eat..." 

You casually glanced around the restaurant, scanning the patrons next to you; you were an observer and enjoyed people watching, in all situations. Abruptly, several tables across from you, wavy, blue hair caught your attention. Your expression contorted into one of shock as your eyes trailed down the bridge of the nose, taking in the man's face. No fucking way. 

As though he felt that he was being watched, Kai turned mid-sentence, and immediately made eye contact with you. His brows rose slowly in surprise, and ultimately, delight. You blinked and turned away quickly, engulfing yourself back in the conversation. Or hoping to. But there was no escaping this. 

"Excuse me," you heard him say, before scooting his chair back. The legs scraped against the floor with an awkward sound, and Kai made his way over to you, navigating around the tables. 

Like a child trying to avoid being found, you almost considered sinking down in your seat, chest heaving with shallow breaths. Some luck you had. Some fucking luck. You rolled your eyes, shifting your shoulders. Zack watched you, studying your very apparent discomfort. You felt both men's eyes on you, and laughed nervously into your soda.

"Y/N..." Kai said. 

You said nothing in return, only smiled sarcastically and stirred your soda with the straw. 

"New boyfriend?" He asked, his tone dripping with faux-interest. You knew him. You knew him like the back of your hand, and he wasn't interested. He was waiting to incriminate you.

"No, actually." Zack interjected, bravely. "We're just getting to know each other. It's going well." 

You nodded, giving him a genuine smile. "It is." 

Kai tightened his smile further; the fakeness started to show through the cracks. "Good, good. Well, I just wanted to say hello. I'll leave you two lovebirds to finish your appetizers." 

"You know him?" 

"Unfortunately. Too well." 

"Ex-boyfriend?" Zack asked, popping another spinach-dip loaded chip into his mouth.

Sheepishly, you nodded.

"He looks familiar." 

"Yeah, you've probably seen him on TV. He's a councilman."

Zack snapped his fingers, pointing at you. "That's it! Anderson, right?" 

Again, you nodded. "Yep... that's the one." 

The waiter appeared, meals in hand. As you two ate, the conversation naturally melted away from Kai, which you were grateful for. Especially since it seemed like it was headed in the direction of Zack wanting to vote for him and agreeing with his campaign policies. Unfortunately, Zack fit the bill of one of the men that Kai would easily brainwash, and recruit to his noble cause.

Halfway through dessert, your phone buzzed. You knew who it was from without even looking. The message read: We should get together.

You quickly thumbed out a response. Why? 

Just to talk. 

Against better judgement, you agreed. The rest of the date was spent laughing about poorly written films in the last decade, but in the back of your mind, laughing was the last thing you wanted to be doing. The next hour was a blur. Zack had gone in for a kiss when he was leaving, which you returned, but only briefly. You were distracted. Painfully so. You went from the restaurant to Kai's, but you hardly remembered driving there. Your mind was on autopilot; a rotten, sour feeling bubbling in your stomach. Everything in you said that this was a bad idea, and yet, you gripped the steering wheel hard, looking at his front door.

You got out, locked your car and made your way up the pathway. You only knocked once before the door flew open. He stood tall. Proud. Unwavering. That overly confident, but calm smile plastered on his stupidly-handsome face. His hair hung at his cheeks, greasy as ever. He was pleased you'd shown up - you thought you saw a flicker of doubt that maybe, just maybe, you wouldn't have. But you were a woman of your word, and you weren't going to show him that he was something to fear.

"So, when are you going to break it off with what's-his-name?" Kai asked as he took the basement stairs quickly, trotting down them. You followed, wordlessly, revelling in the familiar sensations. Once you'd stopped at the final step, you glanced forward, eyes locking on the brown leather couch. Out of all the memories that you'd had in that basement, the ones that rushed back were the ones where Kai was fucking you on that couch. Ruthless, merciless fucking until your back hurt and your insides felt like they'd been obliterated twice over. You blinked the images away, swallowing hard. Your head turned before your eyes met his. 

"Zack is actually very nice, and he'd probably treat me very well if I decided to pursue a relationship with him. But since when do you care who I'm with?" 

"It's my business." 

"No, it fucking isn't. It hasn't been for weeks. Last time I checked... I was uhhh, what was it? A stupid bitch?" That had become a favorite alias of his. You plopped down on the sofa, cushions giving way to your weight.

Kai bristled. "You know, you really should be careful what you post on social media." 

"Excuse me?" 

"You never know who could be watching." 

The realisation hits you like a freight train. Him being at the restaurant wasn't a coincidence, it wasn't bad luck. Kai knew exactly where you were going to be and he made it a point to be there. You’d replied to a friend in the comments of a post, telling her that you were going to be at that particular restaurant in the afternoon. He’d seen that.

"You've been.... fucking stalking me!?" 

Kai filled his chest with air, somehow standing taller than he already did. "You sure like to show off your cute little life, don't you? Pathetic little coffee outings and Tapas date nights. But what I want to know..." Kai trailed off, circling you like the pathetic little lamb you were. "...is who you go home and think about. Is it Zack? Or maybe Edward?"  

You felt the muscles underneath your eye twitch. 

"Or is it.... me?" 

Kai finally moved in front of you, his broad chest obscuring your view from everything else. His legs touched your knees. 

"Answer me." 

"I don't have to tell you anything, Kai. You aren't my boyfriend anymore."

"I said answer me!" Kai pressed his thumb and forefinger into your cheeks, making your lips pucker out like a stupid, confused fish. He yanked your head forward, bringing it up towards his. The action strained the muscles in your neck, but you didn't dare say that. This dynamic was very familiar to you. You'd been here before. 

"Seems like you need a little reminder."

A chill ran down your spine.

"Open your mouth." Kai's thumb traced your pouty lips softly, sweeping back and forth. He waited a few seconds, his face tight with impatience and when you didn't concede to his request, Kai forced your mouth open, pressing his fingers into your cheek flesh until you winced and dropped your jaw. 

"Good girl. Now, you're going to keep your mouth open until I say to close it. You understand?" 

You nodded, your tongue resting delicately on your bottom teeth. 

"I have a very important job for you. You're going to stroke my cock until it's hard and then I'm going to throat fuck you."

You held back a cringe. He was always so... direct. Direct with his intentions, direct with his words, direct with his actions. You supposed that was the main vein of why he was doing so well as a councilman; people liked the truth -- and regardless of validity, if something is delivered with enough confidence and directness, it's believed. 

You reached forward tentatively, undoing the button of his dark jeans. The zipper came next, one tooth at a time. You felt the heat of his groin as soon as you leaned forward to pull the jeans over his buttocks, turning your face away so that you weren't met with a mouthful of fabric. With a strong hand, you gripped the elastic of his boxers, pulling them down over his balls - his dick flopped out, heavy and warm to the touch. You sucked a self-encouraging breath into your lungs and reached forward to grip his flaccid cock, inching your lips towards it.

"No." He bucked his hips backwards, furrowing his brows. "What did I say?"

You froze, backpedalled and began stroking, intentionally angling it towards your mouth. Kai let out a shallow breath, pressing his chin against his chest to watch you. You gave it a firm squeeze, and in response, his cock twitched in your grip; it didn't take long for it to swell and stiffen to capacity in your grasp. You paid some attention to the tip, spreading around the slithery pre-cum that had leaked from the slit.  

"I always liked that about you - your willing adherence to any and all demands. You know what I want." 

At least he was praiseful. He always had been, even in the late and toxic stages of your relationship. Still, you chalked it up to him enjoying the sound of his own voice and feeling like he was in control of the situation

Your free hand took hold of his balls, squeezing them softly. At that, Kai vocalized hungrily, grunting low in his throat. He was a very venous man; in any heightened state of emotion that got the blood flowing, his veins popped in his forehead, his neck, his hands... and his cock. Your tongue massaged the veins that swelled on his shaft, flattened out on the thickest one underneath and flicked at the tip.

You continued jerking it, finding a rhythm until Kai's large hand enveloped yours, forcing his cock out of your grasp to replace it with his own. Pumping his cock in and out of his hand a few times quickly, Kai hissed through his teeth, and took a fistful of your hair at the crown of your head. He immediately let go, and cupped the back of your head with his hand, stroking it softly. Tenderly -- like it meant something to him. It didn't. You were a stupid pawn in his story, another one of his dedicated cult members, and he regarded them all the same.

You closed your mouth to swallow, wetting the inside of it before returning to your previous, vulnerable position, tongue out, eyes lifted to meet his. Kai's pitch-dark eyes looked down at you with a roiling expectancy, one that spoke louder than words could. He slapped the tip of his cock against your waiting tongue, revelling in that first, startled flinch.

At first, he slid just the tip along the texture of your tongue, grinding against you, but it didn't take him long to penetrate. The tip of his cock bumped against the back of your throat, and you closed your lips, bowing your head slightly to allow him further down your throat.

“How does that feel?” 

You nodded your head. Kai let out another throaty moan and picked up his pace, thrusting his hips hard into your face as you relaxed your throat as best you could, fighting your gag reflex. His cock filled your throat - violated it - the salty taste of his precum overwhelming your senses. Your nose burned and your eyes watered. You guessed that your eye makeup had begun to stream down your cheeks in ebony ribbons. 

Kai's visual was ethereal. You were coming undone before him - below him - as women should. In such a submissive state, you looked your best. He took a fistful of your hair and yanked you forward, violently forcing you to deep throat his dick. He felt the slick, strong contraction of your reflex and grit his teeth; you were withholding it, but the pathetic, whimpering sounds of your gags drove him forward. He pictured them, remembering all the times that he had been in a similar position with you. 

"Gag," he said, finally. "I want to hear your pain." 

When you didn't, Kai forced his cock further into your throat, until your nose was pressed in the bush of his hair. That did it. With your eyes squeezed shut, your throat repeatedly rebelled. You coughed and gagged around his shaft, the tip still pressed against your tonsils. You finally opened your bleary eyes at him, straining them upwards to get a visual on him, to beg him wordlessly for relief. Kai flattened his hand on the back of your head and bunny humped your face, pulling more desperate gags from your throat.

"Who do you belong to?"

No response. Just a full-mouthed cough.

He took a fistful of your hair, pulling you hard off of his dick. THWACK! Kai's hand whipped across your face, leaving a welting streak of red in its wake. His cock bumped against the roof of your mouth as you nodded slowly, stunned from the sheer force. 

"I'll ask you one more time... who do you belong to?" 

Finally, you gave him another feeble nod and lifted your hand to press a single finger into his pectoral muscle.

"Good... that's what I like to hear. You remembered that it's rude to talk with your mouth full, too. I'm so proud of you."

Kai reinserted his cock into your waiting mouth, almost gently. That was everything but comforting, but this foreplay was familiar to you, and therefore, enjoyable. Sure, the way your throat burned as his dick hammered in and out might've teetered on the edge of discomfiting, but you'd been here before. You knew him, and at one point, you loved him.

You made an O around his cock as he dragged it out from the back of your throat, sucking gently. Kai began thrusting again, but less rhythmically than before. He was losing his steady pace, and that only meant one thing.

"Don't fucking stop," he breathed. "Keep going."

You closed your eyes again, two tears streaming down your blushing, caving cheeks. He was going to cum soon, you felt the tightness, the heat, the urgency behind his thrusts. Pumping his cock in and out of your swollen lips, Kai’s hand snapped to the back of your neck, holding you in place as he thrust remorselessly. 

A second later, he bottomed out again, and you felt his cock twitching, pulsing in your mouth as his orgasm washed down the back of your throat. You coughed a wet, sticky wet cough and Kai groaned, letting his head fall back into his shoulders. 

"Swallow. Fucking swallow it."

You did. You winced as your throat accepted the mouthful of blisteringly hot cum, salty and slightly unpleasant. Your mouth felt sticky and your throat was coated – you couldn't talk, not clearly. So, instead of telling Kai that you hated him, you just glared at him with fire in your gaze, baring your teeth at him like an angry dog.

“Aw, what? What, you hate me? Is that what you want to say?” 

You nodded.

“Go sit at the table. We’re going to talk about that.” 

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: married life with eiland

COMMENTS: i've been thinking so hard about marrying this man i have two lawn chairs next to my mail box and a desk for him and a chest full of sweets for when we get married im planning ahead ahead i need him so bad

reader is compared to lady luck but they're not fem aligned.

It’s not uncommon for you to wake up in the morning to see Eiland curled up in bed, his reading glasses askew and a book opened over his face. You always remove the book gently, marking his page with a bookmark you keep handy on your nightstand and he thanks you profusely for it later. It’s not even that he stays up outrageously late, you just so happen to have a husband who is so dedicated to his research he can hardly put it down!

Although he would love nothing more than to have chocolate chip waffles with whipped cream and a hearty amount of syrup for breakfast, he is unfortunately bound by the knowledge that food like that has little nutrients and will not keep his precious spouse up and running throughout the day. Soft hands cut up fruits into hearts and stars, depositing them into one of your bowls with a proud smile as seasonal fruit pancakes sizzle on your stove. He takes pride in taking care of your needs. That is, after all, what a husband does! (Ignore the copious amount of times he messed up a dish...he's trying his best.)

Whenever he comes home after a meeting with his sister, he makes sure to ask your opinion on things. If it's something the two of you don’t agree on (much to his chagrin...yes, he pouts about it later) he will still report your honest opinion to Adeline. His sister can tell immediately if you agreed or disagreed with him based on his facial expression alone.

Eiland has a tendency to say things that can be taken in a flirtatious way, but are usually innocent. He still has not learned to watch his words with you even after years of marriage, calling you over to Louis’s stall to look at the beautiful wedding outfits and yapping about how lovely you would look in them. Oh Eiland, he has no idea what he’s implying!

Due to his hobbies, he is more of a help on the farm than some may think! You’re certainly going to have to walk him through ranching if he decides he wants to feed the animals, but he’ll pick up on how to plant seeds a lot faster. He’s quick work with a shovel and can figure out a hoe in no time flat! (He thinks you’re so cool and just wants to help out his lovely spouse, please let him.)

Without a doubt, you will get wrapped up in his Dungeons and Drama campaigns. He’ll be delighted if you make food based on the campaign and will brag for weeks about it. Be prepared to be referred to as the lovebirds when you come to the Inn on Friday’s! That’s simply how Mistria works I’m afraid.

Elsie is going to have the time of her life when the two of you get married. She’ll be on cloud nine, orbiting the two of you with well wishes and the most random gifts she insists you two need for your new life. It’s very sweet of her, even if you’re not entirely sure what you’d use a fondue pot for other than satisfying your husband’s raging appetite.

Daily trips to the Western Ruins and The Narrows are a must. Eiland likes to check in on the Museum, having been contributing to its upkeep for a long time now. If you find him starting a special set of armor tucked away in the back of the main area, don’t mind him. He’s just reminiscing on old times with you.

Eiland takes very good care of his skin and hair, and if you let him he’ll pamper you every morning and night. He tends to lose his sense of personal space when he does this though...his face will be very close to you. If you lean in to steal a kiss, he’ll jump and laugh, cheeks growing warm as you smile at him.

When he spaces out, he’ll reach out for your hand and start fiddling with your wedding ring. You’d think he’d fiddle with his own, but he likes feeling your knuckles under the pads of his fingers. Eiland will slowly come back down to Mistria at some point, his eyes focusing on his fingers against your skin and your soft smile shining upon him like Lady Luck herself. Truly, he got so lucky.

[utilitycaster]

If you feel so inclined, I would be interested in your thoughts on the similarities and differences between the two CR characters well-known to be aggressively antagonistic to authority: Beau and Ashton. Both have their own family-related trauma and baggage around abandonment. Both have large chips on their shoulders. Both work out their anger through physical violence. Both have gone through phases of being profoundly self-destructive. Thoughts on these two as foils?

So foils is a little bit of a stretch just because while they do exist within the same work, they don't really interact significantly, and because they are quite similar!

Someone else, and I can't find the post, made this comparison early in the campaign (particularly given how many diehard fans of Beau hated Ashton with a vehemence I'd call excessive) about all these similarities, and how the main differences were the exact specifics of their family trauma, the fact that Ashton was lower class, and the fact that they are nonbinary. (Personally I think it probably boiled down to Actor Stanning/Hating Reasons in the end, but it's mostly moot now, both because I think some differences have arisen and because a lot of those people have since quit watching).

I think since then the gulf has widened. Beau slowly moved away from a lot of her self-destructive tendencies with one notable relapse after a brutal encounter with her abusive father, whereas Ashton can't; the drinking is to an extent part of the package until Exandria invents naproxen. Beau ultimately found herself, somewhat uniquely within the Mighty Nein, supported utterly by an institution, whereas Ashton hasn't had that sort of experience and therefore has had no valid reason to reconsider his stances on authority. Closure is, to some extent, overrated, but Beau did get it and Ashton never really will both because their parents are already dead and just because, well, this story is less about the character backstories and more about the moon, and so the Nobodies and Jiana don't play that kind of role. I also think that Beau on some level was harboring a layer of cynicism to cover up her self-loathing but genuinely did want things to get better and refused to admit it, and I think Ashton is still dedicated to a very nihilistic worldview, which, given their backgrounds, feels reasonable!

I think on some level they work now as images of what Beau might have been had she had a significantly rougher childhood or a chronic illness; or what Ashton might have been with a more stable but still in some way traumatic upbringing. The similarities are still there, but there's much more nuance and difference as we've learned more about Ashton.

[fanaticsnail]

Hi Snail, I hope you're having a great time with your sister. I've got a little gift for you, I hope you like it 😉Here's my version of Tobiuo, I loved drawing it! For the colors I was inspired by the palette you posted with the flying fish.

Oh my gosh. I can't believe you've done this!! Look at her!!! She's gorgeous 😭😭😭. The details you've done her with: the scales, the ears, the webbing, her gills, her teeth, her eyes, her lashes, her brows, her hair. You've given her so much.

I just love her 🤌. I'm blown away. Honestly. I'm screaming.

I'm gonna show everyone I know this beautiful artwork. I'm gonna hold my d&d party hostage via zoom tonight to have a moment with her (it's a family campaign, and I'll be on the other end of the call with my husband). I just can't believe it.

Your drawing style is just gorgeous. You're so incredibly talented, and I'm simply floored. You're amazing. If there's anything I can write or do for you in response to this, don't hesitate. Anything for anyone. I love gift swapping, and I have a few I'm slowly chipping away at right now while on holiday before I go to sleep.

[yeyinde]

Haha, I also spoil myself intentionally, but for the plot of movies, tv shows, and games I’m not super invested in. If I accidentally spoil myself (especially if I learn a character dies) I’ll cope by telling myself “I don’t know how/when it happened though”

Anyways Major Character Death!!

I’m SO disappointed in them killing off Soap and especially in how they did it! No buildup or anything! To me it was disrespectful to the character and to Neil Ellice. And then the 141 don’t even say anything and it cuts to them spreading his ashes with a simple goodbye! They could have at least made them a little more upset 🥲 also I hate how abruptly the game ended. Makarov gets away, but no mention to that at the end.

I had also initially requested what would become infinity in the palm of your hand (eternity in an hour) as a way to “cope” with 2009 Soap’s death because it’s always been on the back of my mind for years (weird, I know). But now after playing the new MW3 campaign I look like boo boo the fool because of who went and got killed off 😭 now every time I go back to reread it, it will be painful knowing what’s in store for reader for their current reincarnation of Soap.

Tldr I’m kinda not okay with MW3.

From what I've seen, it feels like they pulled it out of a hat. All names went in, but his (amongst others) came out. And I guess it's safe because he died in the OG, so the backlash can easily be deflected from within their own community when other fans come to their defence over this choice. But idk.

I agree with everything you said. It doesn't make any sense. It's jarring and misplaced, and canonically pointless. I'm not against character death. Grief is a powerful thing. But I just hate when it's so contrived and needless. It was definitely done for shock value over plot/character growth and I think they were trying to re-create the massive storm that happened when OG Soap died because they know they don't have much else going for them. It just massively missed the mark because: a) Price and Gaz had no tangible in-game relationship with Soap the same way Ghost did; and b) what does his death really amount to in the end? Nothing. It feels cobbled together and poorly thought out. It's sad when Portal 2 has better writing than your whole remake combined. Honestly, it's kind of impressive how little thought they put into this. I'm getting flash backs to DGG's Halloween.

If it's any consolation, the mythology I based the reincarnation off of in infinity would essentially just be neverending. An ouroboros. The events would happen much the same way. A knock on the door. Spiral of grief. A bog. A deal. Restart. So, you'd just wake up again and live life until whatever the old you made a deal with decides it's time to collect. You're forever stuck in a loop with your soulmate until you get it right.

The rest is just how I kinda wish it went, but this was getting very long because I have more thoughts on this than I anticipated lmao 😅

Personally, I think it would have been much more interesting if they brought in a new passel of characters and slowly chipped off the main cast in a series of horrible decisions that slowly begin to feel hollow and empty. That leave you, the player, feeling emotionally gutted with each new chapter because the choices previously are absolutely impacting the way they move forward, but they're too deep into their own revenge fantasy to see it until the very end when it's too late. Give me actions have consequences and every choice you make is directly responsible for someone's death. The realities of war. And what happens when you give a group of people the power to play god in countries they know nothing about. It would have matched the gritty tone they tried to go for with the trailers and actually served as an interesting conversation about war and how we tend to deify the military when they're just men with too much power in their hands. Instead, we have a death that means nothing. That arguably happened much too early in the series so the payoff is solely meant for clicks and reaction channels. Pointless.

And Makarov. A Russian Ultra Nationalist. I feel like that title alone says everything for me, and yet. They still somehow managed to give a Russian War Criminal so many wins. I'm just so irritated by it all.

[beatriceeagle]

“Beauregard could be lying, of course, or exaggerating. It was possible.

"Why did you ask about Kamordah?" Beauregard said. She always sounded brusque, but right now she was slipping towards something more like "combative."

"It's what I was reading about today. Dalis Feredon presented the story… differently than I expected."

"Oh." Beauregard's voice evened out, and she turned away from Bren. "I'm from there, you know."

"Kamordah?"

"Yeah. My father was very into the Empire, and so were most of the winery owners, but if you sat in a dive bar on a bad night, you'd eventually hear some real fuck-the-Dwendals talk. Some people never really got over it."

If she was Kamordahn, she was hardly an unbiased source. But then, the Empire's story was that Kamordah had annexed not only willingly, but at their own request—if that were true, they'd have no reason to be bitter.

And it did seem, didn't it, that the further the history got from the Empire, the more likely it was to agree with Beauregard's story.

What did it matter? If Kamordah joined the Empire willingly or at swordpoint, it had no bearing on Bren's situation. He was not Kamordahn, and however the annexation had happened, it had happened, and would not be undone now.”

i loved bren researching, reading a “traitors” work, and slowly realising that maybe everything ickythong said wasn’t true. also really appreciate learning more about exandrian lore! it’s one of my favourite things in fanfiction – suddenly learning new things of the source material

DVD commentary under the cut!

Beauregard could be lying, of course, or exaggerating. It was possible.

"Why did you ask about Kamordah?" Beauregard said. She always sounded brusque, but right now she was slipping towards something more like "combative."

"It's what I was reading about today. Dalis Feredon presented the story… differently than I expected."

I had put a lot of thought into the relationship between the Zemni Fields and Rexxentrum for previous fics I'd written, but this was my first time digging into the history of the Marrow War. There's a lot of lore there, and obviously I focused in on Kamordah because of its connection to Beau, but I could've done ten chapters just on all the various atrocities of that era. I've got to shout out @road-rhythm here, because her deep dives in our conversations about Empire history and lore very much informed this section.

"Oh." Beauregard's voice evened out, and she turned away from Bren. "I'm from there, you know."

"Kamordah?"

"Yeah. My father was very into the Empire, and so were most of the winery owners, but if you sat in a dive bar on a bad night, you'd eventually hear some real fuck-the-Dwendals talk. Some people never really got over it."

I'm a little obsessed with the chip that Beau has on her shoulder about the Empire. Obviously the Empire sucks in a lot of ways, but one of the things that's interesting to me about early-campaign Beau is that she hates the Empire even before she is fully aware of all of those ways. She hates it foundationally. When Caleb asks her how she feels about the Empire in episode 18 (which is funny in its own right, since by that point she's initiated several conversations with him basically by saying, "Hey, we're both Empire kids, right? It sucks, right?") Beau is incredibly vague about what her actual issues are with it. But she sure does mention that her dad was an Empire man through and through.

To go slightly off-topic, one of the reasons that I think that Beau and Caleb work as a partnership is that when they meet, Beau is all fight and outrage and no direction, and Caleb is pure direction but has lost his principles and will to fight. Caleb gives Beau a productive target for her rage; Beau gives Caleb will and perspective.

All of which is just to say, I think that Beau's feelings about the Empire are very wrapped up in her feelings about her father, which are necessarily wrapped up in her feelings about Kamordah, which is why asking about Kamordah feels like poking a vulnerable spot at the moment.

If she was Kamordahn, she was hardly an unbiased source. But then, the Empire's story was that Kamordah had annexed not only willingly, but at their own request—if that were true, they'd have no reason to be bitter.

And it did seem, didn't it, that the further the history got from the Empire, the more likely it was to agree with Beauregard's story.

What did it matter? If Kamordah joined the Empire willingly or at swordpoint, it had no bearing on Bren's situation. He was not Kamordahn, and however the annexation had happened, it had happened, and would not be undone now.

It was an interesting balance to try to strike here: I wanted to show the beginnings of Bren unlearning propaganda, but one day at the library is not going to undo a lifetime of jingoism followed by years of intentional conditioning. So I thought of this as a snapshot. Bren learns some new information, and because he is who he is, he thinks through it very deeply—but he's human, so we also see a lot of the cognitive dissonance and protective measures that his brain throws up against challenges to his belief system.

[puppy-coded]

dustin teaching reader how to play dnd or maybe do one of his tech things <3

aaaaa

dustin the wisest teacher(no he's not)

i'm just gonna... modern!college!dustin bc it'll make the most sense. also, this one got away form me, it's such a cute prompt.

also also, fake facts/statistics

𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓢𝓾𝓬𝓴 𝓐𝓽 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓗𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷

"So what are these dice for again?" You asked for the millionth time. You shifted in your seat and tried not to look bored. You just couldn't.

Not to Dustin.

He was so cute and bouncy and excited.

"Um... uh... various things."

The party groaned in response to Dustin's inability to explain things. He knows exactly what it is but he can't quite articulate what he means.

Eddie spoke up to not make the silence as awkward as it was. It was just a little throwaway one-shot to teach you. "Dustin you want me to-"

Dustin threw his hands up in Eddie's direction to silence him. "No! No. I got it man. So the dice... They, um... they're for-"

"Determine what happens."

"They determine what happens!" Dustin echoed.

You nodded as if you knew exactly what he meant. "Right... So then-" Another groan. "Stop it guys! I'm learning."

After the game was done, which took forever due to your questions, you helped Dustin clean up his dorm room.

"Dustin?"

"Hm," He hummed in response.

You played with the vibrant blue dice in your hand and bit your lip, not entirely knowing how to voice your concern. "Maybe... maybe we should keep our hobbies, um, adjacent."

Dustin looked a tad hurt at the suggestion. "You didn't like it?"

Your eyes widened and you almost threw the dice when you shook your hands and head to show that, no, it wasn't that at all. "No Dusty. Not what I meant at all. What I mean is, we can still do our own hobbies but the other doesn't have to participate if that makes sense?"

Dustin tilted his head, clearly not getting it.

"Like..." You looked around the dorm for help. "Like how I bake! I can bake before campaigns and we can hangout but I won't force you to bake. Then you'll have snacks to take to your campaigns?"

Dustin slowly nodded but you knew he still didn't get it. You've known your boyfriend for forever, of course you knew he didn't.

"Or how I read," You tried again. "And you play your video games. We can do those things in the same room and talk to each other if we need breaks but we won't force each other to do it."

"I think I see now." Dustin said, putting an empty chip bag in the trash bin. "Or like, when you knit and I'm doing all my tech stuff. We chill and check in but don't try to teach the other?"

"Yeah! Adjacent hobbies work for a lot of couples and it's proven to make each individual in a relationship happier and feel more in control of themselves," You said. "A lot of the times 'incompatible' couples have problems with shared hobbies, very rarely is it actually something else."

Dustin looked surprised by your knowledge of relationships. "You're so smart. I feel so lucky."

"Aww Dusty," You cooed. "I'm the lucky one."

✰ 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @sw34terw34ther @masivechaos @duchess-of-mischief @magic-is-beauty

[illogarithmil]

Warning: some unmarked spoilers for most official 5e campaigns below. Also, long post written over several days with resultant tonal shifts.

If, like me, you find yourself terminally dissatisfied by D&D 5e (and horrified by OneD&D or whatever they're calling it now) but still wanting to run its major published adventures because otherwise what did you *buy them all for*, here are some suggestions! I'm going to steer away from stuff that's too straightforwardly a retroclone or "D&D but with X rule changed," because that's boring. For each adventure, I will explain what I think a good adaptation needs, provide a "played-straight option" which is a system to pretty much directly port the adventure into, only requiring some rules conversion and maybe minor setting flavour, and an "offbeat option," which is going to require major narrative changes and often shift the entire genre. With two exceptions I'm going to recommend games I've played or at least read many times over; if you know of other things that would work then feel free to comment or reblog with them!

So, in chronological order of the adventures I own...

Lost Mines of Phandelver

The important thing about LMoP is that it's a starter adventure, taking characters who start off as basically nobodies but who have either personal connections or moral ties that draw them into a pretty morally straightforward conflict with several groups of bad people working on behalf of a single villain. In the process, it shows off a bit of travel and exploration, a bit of social activity in phandelver itself (mainly of the obtain-quest-hooks variety) and a lot of combat, easing people into the game.

Played-Straight: 24BLUE

A solid but simple old-school fantasy-oriented but setting-agnostic hack of 2400 with light, intuitive but flavourful rules for creating characters and monsters and good guidance on how to convert over from other systems. It's also cheap as chips ($3) and 4 pages long, meaning it puts very little work on a new gm. Frankly, I think flexible and rules-lite systems are the best way to get people into rpgs, so this is ideal. Also, it has something of a tendency to depower more powerful monsters in conversion which might be an issue with larger-scale games but really isn't with the 1-5 scale of Phandelver. Just maybe fudge a bit to preserve the sense of threat with the dragon.

https://deep-light-games.itch.io/24blue

Offbeat: All that I Am

So Phandelver's a game about good-hearted nobodies rising to defeat evil, right? But they're good-hearted nobodies with magic and sword-skills. What if they kept the drive but lost the power? What terrible price might ordinary folks pay to defeat an evil which they are unequipped to face? Also cheap (PWYW, $11.36 recommended) and also simple (albeit less so,) All That I Am is a game about people who have made a pact with a demon and slowly realize that this was Probably A Mistake. It has a really cool basic mechanic based on tossing coins into a magic circle - not one for online play! - and a very flavourful list of demons to mess about with. It's naturally darker in tone than D&D, which is going to affect your story through play, but the setting could honestly probably go unchanged and the only plot alteration you might want to make is reshuffling the adventure so that it starts in Phandalin and goes 1. Get bothered by Redbrands; 2. MAKE PACT TO DEFEAT THEM (going into wilderness to conduct the ritual in secret); 3. Get ambushed by Goblins on way back from wilderness; 4. Return to phandalin and go from there, rather than the standard goblin lead-in. If you wanted to change the setting to the more Renaissance Europe default assumption of ATIA, you could easily enough make the Goblins into bandits or wicked faeries and Nezznar into a human schemer.

https://www.drivethrurpg.com/m/product/271265

Honourable Mentions: Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay, Burning Wheel if that's your thing

Princes of the Apocalypse

I know a lot of people don't like PotA. Cards on the table: it's my favourite 5e adventure, and I've run it once already. It is, to me, the archetypal D&D story, which made it really hard to pick alternatives which aren't just branches of D&D. It's got a fairly balanced mix of combat, social and exploration/investigation elements through which the characters uncover the works of four tactically diverse elemental cults which are often remarkably subversive of typical expectations of their element, led by well-realized and psychologically interesting villains, all of which both tie together into a single core and branch out into loads of loosely related side quests and plot threads.

Played-Straight: Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay

Four divine cults tied to a single powerful evil force, you say? Warhammer's Moorcockian forces of Chaos fit pretty much perfectly. You could keep the elemental theming, even, with the cults venerating the Four Gods in elemental aspect, or switch elementals for daemons and just retain the front organisations. I recommend associating Tzeentch (god of change and magic) with the fire druids, Khorne (god of honour and violence) with the earth monks, Slaanesh (god of pride and excess) with the air knights and Nurgle (god of health and sickness, who already has a substantial maritime followinh) with the water bandits. True, the game might be a bit more gory and lethal thanks to random injury tables and lower power levels, but if you're playing the 4th edition by the book it probably won't be enough to shift the tone of the adventure especially if you're generous with the Fate and Resilience points. It supports social play, particularly player character psychology, very well, and has some simple but workable exploration rules on a similar level to D&D's (but with a better, more narrative-focussed random encounter table!) Additionally, the adventure doesn't have any major "pay X gold to get some benefit" moments, meaning that warhammer characters (who might well start play as a poor refuse collector or peasant farmer due to random character generation) won't find they're gated out of elements by different expectations of character wealth compared to D&D.

https://cubicle7games.com/our-games/warhammer-fantasy-roleplay

Offbeat: Avatar Legends

OK, so this is one of the ones I haven't played, though I hear good things. I'm recommending it on the strength of the setting, because get this: elements.

More seriously, a major theme in the original AtLA (haven't watched Korra) is "the gang show up somewhere where people have some cool powers/tech/fighting style but there's also Something Creepy and Bad Going On. You could bring the elemental powers of the cults more into the foreground, making them organisations of highly trained benders dominating an isolated region and connected - this being the element that remains a secret - via their mutual corruption by a powerful, trapped dark spirit (replacing the Elder Elemental Eye). The fact that there's an air cult means you'd probably need to set it before the Air Nomad Genocide unless the air knights being a special unique school of different airbenders was a plot point.

https://magpiegames.com/pages/avatarrpg

Honourable Mentions: Worlds Without Number, Burning Wheel, Pendragon, Rennaissance

Out of the Abyss

My favourite adventure that I've never run, Out of the Abyss' key feature is survival and exploration, followed by power scaling. The characters are going to start off nearly naked in an alien environment and end up killing several demon lords, if they don't starve or go mad first, and it's important that a game be able to capture that.

Played-Straight: 18XX Dreams

Sort of played straight. Another 2400 hack, this one works if you accept that the underdark of OotA was set up as a dreamlike space inspired by Alice in Wonderland, because it's a setting built entirely around the dreamworld. Who trapped the characters in the shadowy world of nightmare which is our underdark here? Drawing on Lovecraft's Dreamlands, maybe it was the slaving Men of Leng rather than the original module's drow, or maybe some wicked drowesque fairies will do. At any rate, from there you can pretty much run the thing straight from the module, just with a bit more creative license. The game's player powers might seem excessive at first, but they're really just exploration-oriented where D&D's are often combat-oriented; you'll quickly get used to working around them and if you don't it's an easy game and easily hacked. (Incidentally, Dreams requires a 'waking world character' as a bass for which I recommend you use the compatible 24BLUE system mentioned above. You could also pull advancement from that system, which you'll want to do if you aren't going to emphasise the final ritual as the only way to defeat the demons).

https://deep-light-games.itch.io/18xx-dreams

Offbeat: FIST

Kidnapped by esoteric Nazi explorers, our band of late-80s urban fantasy action hero mercs are now trapped in the Hollow Earth! Will their scavenged gear and hard-won skills be sufficient to allow them to escape and/or best both the pursuing fash and the terrible cthonic deities they have unleashed in their excavations?

FIST is a fast-paced near-modern setting game with one of the most enjoyable and simple combat systems I've seen, which should make the near-endless random encounters a bit more breezy. It's core ethos is that the characters are an overmatched A-team style force (often with surprisingly little gear) who are going to have to lie, cheat, steal and McGyver their way to survival let alone victory, which fits *perfectly* with early OOtA. The alternating zaniness and horror also mesh really well, though you might need to port madness mechanics over. And yes, it already has basic stats for demons of various degrees of power!

https://claymorerpgs.itch.io/fist

Honourable Mention: Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay

Curse of Strahd

Curse of Strahd is a game that I've run twice,neither by the book, and my key takeaway is that it really feels like it should never have been made in 5e. A great, interesting horror story is just broken up by having to have a set-piece fight with a monster every half an hour. That said, what's important to adapt is clearly the sense of dread and the social webs between characters, as well as the power differential between heroes and villains that makes the latter scary.

Played-Straight: Thirsty Sword Lesbians

Strahd is an abusive, manipulative prick who wants to toy with the PCs' emotions more than kill them. Thirsty Sword Lesbians is a game where emotional breakdowns generally replace death (which makes it feel a lot less like the GM is just playing the genius villain as an idiot) and defeating abusive pricks is a big part of the power fantasy. Even if it doesn't initially sound like your thing - it didn't to me - I *seriously* recommend giving it a look. It's an awesome game. No setting or adventure change is really required, but the focus on having action and fights be less a constant than something that happens when and where it's emotionally impactful gives you permission to cut some of the needless violence in favour of more creeping gothic horror if you want to. Also, it has to be said that having rules around romance and relationships is probably a good thing for the game sometimes affectionately known as "5e's dating sim".

https://evilhat.com/product/thirsty-sword-lesbians/

Offbeat: Old World of Darkness (Hunters Hunted+Sorcerer+Ghost Hunters+Mage: Victorian Age)

This was the idea that made me write this post: a Victorian factory town in the hills outside Manchester where the characters become trapped, not by the physical bounds of mist (or not *only* by them) but by ties of class and social obligation, forcing them to remain in the twisted demesne of the local industrialist, a man who is more than he seems (a vampire? An utterly corrupt and evil mage called a Nephandus? World of Darkness has lots of options.) Barovia is shrunk in scale to the town of Barrowdale and its immediate rural environs, creating claustrophobia without breaching the lower-fantasy constraints by having the Strahd equivalent hop on his magic horse. World of Darkness has a modestly complex system, but it's a little lighter than D&D especially for the relatively normal mortals the characters will be playing. They might have a spiritualist medium, a Sorcerer or Psychic capable of a couple of tricks or perhaps somebody whose True Faith in God can protect against the unholy, but for the most part they'll be relying on mundane skills as they uncover the town's shadowier side. I love the idea of the Keepers of the Feather as a group of socialist agitators, the Baron's Vallaki as a disjointed and ineffectual trade union or Argynvostholt as the cellar network left behind by the families whose estates were cleared to build the new rows of red-brick tenements. Just one thing: please don't have Strahd be Eastern European in this set-up, the vampiric foreigner invading British soil is an unpleasant trope.

Rules for vampire powers so you don't have to buy a whole vampire book as well are to be found here:https://saligia.fandom.com/wiki/Saligia_Wikia - use the White Wolf Wiki for guidance on what you're looking for.

https://www.drivethrurpg.com/m/product/401413

https://www.drivethrurpg.com/m/product/114261

https://www.drivethrurpg.com/m/product/368774

https://www.drivethrurpg.com/m/product/412531

Honourable Mentions: Dread, Dark Age Cthulhu

Storm King's Thunder

SKT is another story reliant on power scaling to make its premise work. It has a massive, almost sandbox-y setting in which the characters gradually pick up plot threads explaining why bad things are happening around them, fight their way through one of several dungeons and then use their trophy from that to unlock the finale in which they go head-to-head with giants, a kraken and a dragon in pretty short order. Honestly, I don't like it as an adventure, but if you're wanting to run it you're going to want at least some support for interesting travel and a solid power scale that will allow some pretty big fights at the high end.

Played-Straight: Worlds Without Number

It may only have 10 levels (sort of), but its lack of bounded accuracy means this fantasy game of wandering experts, mages, warriors and adventurers scales impressively into the higher of those. It's travel rules maintain the interesting elements of resource management whilst being more streamlined than 5e's. Also, and this is a side-note, characters are very customizable with everybody getting a couple of free feat-equivalents. It's very solid and entirely system-agnostic, meaning you can use the great big highly-detailed map and chapter of encounters which are without a doubt the best part of SKT.

https://www.drivethrurpg.com/m/product/348809

Offbeat: Traveller

Of course if you *wanted* to adapt the map...

Traveller is a sci-fi game, known for extensive and random character generation but which also likes big hex grids! Seriously, look at this thing.

It is pretty setting-agnostic, meaning you can create your own sci-fi setting (and map!) that fits in equivalents to the adventure elements (some people have even made historical or fantasy hacks, for which check out Mercator or Halberts). It has extensive rules for travel, of course, and also modular rules for just about everything else so that whether your characters want to be merchants or mercenaries you can patch in more complex rules to serve that need. In what is essentially a massive sandbox with loose themes that coalesce into a plot at the end, that works really well, and you can still have the big threats that the adventure relies on in the form of enormous alien battleships. I think I'd be using the K'Kree, murderous centaur like vegetarian absolutists, as my giants if running in the official Traveller setting of the Third Imperium golden age, but honestly any of humaniti's alien neighbours could work if they turned hostile.

There are a lot of editions of traveller, but the 2nd edition book by Mongoose is a great modern entry point.

https://www.mongoosepublishing.com/collections/traveller-rpgs

Honourable Mention: Forbidden Lands

Tomb of Annihilation

ToA, the last of these I've run, is to my mind a much better hexcrawler than SKT and indeed 5e's best pure exploration adventure. The PCs have a goal, a timer, and an immense, confusing, murderous obstacle in the way in the form of the jungles of Chult. Once they beat that, it's time for a different sort of crawl as they explore massive puzzle dungeons. A game that works for this needs to be good at both map-scale and site-scale exploration, not just in the evocation of travel in the narrative but also the nitty-gritty survival details of whether you contracted throat leeches today. Oh, and it needs to be a setting that allows for big powerful mass-influence magic or something and for resurrection so the death curse plot point can be set up.

Played-Straight: Forbidden Lands

A game *about* exploring a hex map, with a die-based supply system that reduces bookkeeping to a minimum whilst keeping resource tracking central, detailed travel and camp actions and a slightly low-fantasy tone that fits well with how I conceive ToA. Nothing here would stop you using the official setting, though some of the assumptions about D&D magic it makes might need tweaking.

https://freeleaguepublishing.com/en/games/forbidden-lands/

Offbeat: Eclipse Phase

In the mid-distance future, the shock of an AI uprising that decimated humanity has led us to flee earth, embrace transhumanism and conquer death through the practice of resleeving into new bodies. 10 years after "the Fall," sapients - humans, uplifted animals and limited AIs - live throughout the solar system and, via a series of weird teleport gates, beyond. But now (this plot proposes) something in the outer reaches of the solar system is broadcasting a rare strain of the ai-created Exsurgent Virus, which twists its sufferers into monsters - this one affecting not active sleeves, but backups. Whenever somebody resleeves- like, say, if they broadcast their mind into a new body on the edge of the solar system to find out what's going on - they have limited time left before they become an abomination. EP has pretty solid survival rules, greatly expedited by sci-fi technology, and a system of mental stress that'd fit ToA's horror elements well, but I won't pretend it wouldn't be a faff to convert. It doesn't have much support for something like hexcrawl, though it'd be easy enough to set up a map of outer system habs in a given area of space, and its characters tend to be hypercompetent in a way that could reduce the sense of threat. With the themes of death and resurrection, terrible elder entities and horror embedded in a way that not many sci-fi rpgs do, though, I think it'd be worth it if you're willing to deal with some crunch. All of the big books for it are also available for FREE from the publishers, though I recommend supporting them - they're awesome people doing good work.

https://robboyle.info/#eclipse-phase-pdfs

Honourable Mention: Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay

Ghosts of Saltmarsh

Other than OotA, this is probably the adventure (I mean, anthology I guess but it's an anthology with some very strong connective tissue) that I'd most like to run some day. The thing Saltmarsh needs most is of course good sailing rules or the ability to adapt the ones in the book naturally, but a functioning mass combat system for the attack on the sahaguin lair would also be helpful, as would anything making it easier to run a horror game.

Played-Straight: Cthulhu Dark Ages+Corsairs of Cthulhu

One of them's set in the 1000s, the other in the 1700s, but between them that basically averages out to the medieval mishmash that is D&D and provides rules for anything you might want. The dark, gritty human-scale tone (well-suited to Greyhawk) can be made low fantasy by using some of the 'folk' - read non-sanity-blasting - magic found in Dark Ages and from there you can pretty much run the setting straight, either in the original setting (you'll need to homebrew some rules for nonhuman species) or in our own (removing non-monstrous nonhumans altogether). Call of Cthulhu's rules in general bring in a system for character sanity that's very well suited to the frequent horror of Saltmarsh - there's even an asylum already in one of the adventures should your character go mad! - whilst Dark Ages brings some detailed, brutal rules for combat with armour and swords and Corsairs, in addition to ships, adds the blackpowder weaponry that always felt it was missing from Saltmarsh. You should probably keep using the random ship events and Encounters in the 5e book, but if you just keep a comparative list of dice difficulties in the two games they won't be hard to convert even on the fly. Honestly, the big issue here is price, because you're going to need the core rules and two supplements to get started. If that's unfeasible, grab the quick-start or starter set rules and corsairs and then send me a message; I'll give you the relevant extracts from the dark ages rules that I think would help. You can find rules for converting between D20 and CoC's D100 systems online, but honestly the game's standard array of monsters should be fine for representing most stuff in Saltmarsh.

https://www.drivethrurpg.com/m/product/388056

https://www.chaosium.com/cthulhu-dark-ages-3rd-edition-hardcover/

https://www.chaosium.com/call-of-cthulhu-keeper-rulebook-hardcover/

Offbeat: Exalted

OK, hear me out: exalted is a game (d10 system similar to world of darkness but, weirdly, much better social interaction rules) about being reborn, hunted godlings in an almost ridiculously high-fantasy setting, doing incredible things with an array of powers and skills that take competence porn to and beyond the levels of epic D&D 3.5. The world they live in, however, can be as dark and desperate as it is strange and wonderful, and does have a fair number of Normal People who would live in a place like Saltmarsh. That setting also makes the appearance of random island encounters and magical storms popping up out of nowhere feel a lot more natural than it does in Greyhawk. Most importantly, the core game has not only rules for mass combat and sailing, but specific powers to make specialist characters supernaturally good at those things - six pages of options for sailing alone. It might lose some of the classic Saltmarsh horror, and you might want to raise the crew of the first pirate ship to more reasonable levels because even starting exalted will punch through 13 minor enemies with ease, but trust me: it's worth it for how cool it will make your pcs feel and how many rich exploration opportunities will open up to them with increased resilience to harm.

https://www.drivethrurpg.com/m/product/162759

Descent into Avernus

Most noted for a wide gap between character level and apparent threat, though that's really just illustrative of 5e's design philosophy, for me DiA's main 'deal' is tonal diversity, sometimes to the point of whiplash. You go from morally-ambiguous intrigue in a dark den of crime and iniquity to similar except now in hell and with cultists to Brütäl Mäd Mäx Räcës, aided by a flying golden elephant on a quest to redeem a fallen angel. At the same time, the story isn't really meant to be zany in the same way as something like OotA, so the key is probably finding a system that doesn't enforce any particular tone rather than one that enforces tonal dissonance within scenes like Dreams. Given the critical choices between fighting and negotiating the module presents at points, it's also important that the system chosen not make one of those dramatically better than the other.

Played-Straight: Between the Skies

Using a very loose, modular system - it literally lets you choose your dice system! - Between the Skies is basically a collection of systems for inspiration generation to service a plane- or world-hopping campaign. It makes characters varying from the mundane to the weird (should you want to run DiA as the planescape game it cries out to be) interesting through a lifepath generation system which is a bit more than the usual; how often do you find the option to die in character generation *but keep playing that character?* Then it provides guidance for travel, vessels (in a way that'd work quite neatly with the Infernal war machines) and adventure across the planes with a philosophy of maximising the role of the GM as opposed to the system. Its combat system works mostly narratively rather than relying on dice, but still allows a good deal of complexity where needed: you can zoom into or out of combat scenes according to how necessary they are to the plot, either resolving them quickly without losing danger, useful for many of Descent's random encounters, or running more detailed fights. It is ultimately a toolbox game, and will reward a gm who's also willing to be a bit of a designer.

Offbeat: Dark Heresy

A story in which characters begin investigating corruption amongst mortal powers and then delve into literal hell might be an excellent fit for a mid-high level game of the classic Warhammer 40k game of inquisitorial agents rooting out heresy in the grim dark future. Baldur's gate can easily be a significant garrison world, Elturel its Daemon World neighbour from which the characters venture into the Eye of Terror or Great Rift in search of a rumoured way to "redeem" (read: bring back to the Imperium, itself a theofascist nightmare state) a Daemon Primarch, one of the lost children of the Emperor. Given this is 40k, and that Dark Heresy is full of rules for corruption and horrible death, it's likely to end less hopefully than DiA typically does, but you never know!

https://www.drivethrurpg.com/m/product/65872

Honourable Mentions: Exalted, Thirsty Sword Lesbians

Rime of the Frostmaiden

It has been well-noted by now that RotF is quite a good horror story and quite a poor D&D adventure. Honestly, I think even as horror it's a bit of a tonal mess, but it definitely has some strong elements there which are weakened by the characters throwing around resurrection magic and fireballs as the solution to all of their problems. This isn't to say they aren't allowed fireballs - it's pretty solidly a fantasy story - but that the game needs to be about problem solving and fear first and foremost, with of course the ever-present threat of the elements.

Played-Straight: Dread

One for the confident improvisers, dread has a single mechanic: if a character does something they aren't confidently capable of, they pull from a Jenga tower. If they make the pull, they succeed or avoid a threat; if they chicken out, something bad happens; if the tower topples, something very bad happens. Normally this removes them from play; for a longer campaign I might have the first topple lead to the character's secret (a very fun part of RotF is that every character is hiding something, often something nightmarish like an alien parasite growing inside them) being revealed and the second killing them/driving them mad/leading them to flee Icewind Dale and return home. Other than this, the major adaptation would be working out how to narratively implement PC archetypes. I think you can be generous with this - for a barbarian PC, they might be able to crush obstacles or slaughter minor foes without a pull, for example, whilst a water wizard could melt large areas of ice or breathe below the surface of a frozen lake. In short, step away from 5e's highly-defined abilities, let PCs do anything that makes sense and focus on threatening them with the things they *can't* control, which is likely to be a lot. When fights, the weather, stress and magic all threaten a single, communal resource, you'll find the kind of tension and caution the module seems to expect much easier to evoke.

https://dreadthegame.wordpress.com/about-dread-the-game/

Offbeat: Doctor Who: Adventures in Space

This is the other game I've not played (though it's designed by Cubicle 7, whose work I trust implicitly). I'm recommending it mostly for the narrative, because it seems to lend itself so well: the doctor and companions find themselves drawn to an 18th-19th century Russian arctic Island/planetary colony where a powerful cosmic being has brought down eternal winter, the cybermen are building a new cyber-king and an ancient alien city lies frozen in ice. You probably need to think of an actual reason why Auril's frozen Ten Towns, possibly something to do with the fallen city, because your resolution is going to be a result of investigation and clever plans rather than fighting, so be willing to put in the work there. On the easier side, the time travel element that can appear at the end won't be as sudden and jarring in a setting predicated on it!

Quickfire Round of Books I Don't Own

Dragon Heist: Dusk City Outlaws/Fiasco/Royal Blood

Dungeon of the Mad Mage: Advanced Fighting Fantasy

Wild Beyond the Witchlight: Changeling the Dreaming

Tyranny of Dragons: HârnMaster/Pendragon

Candlekeep Mysteries: Amber Diceless/Rennaissance

Radiant Citaedel: Between the Skies/Mage: the Ascension

So there it is! My challenge to you is as follows: if you were considering starting a new 5e campaign with one of these campaigns, expose your group to something new and try one of these instead. Let's break WotC's near-monopoly on this hobby, because they sure as hell don't deserve it. If you do do anything with any of these (or, as I say, if you have better ideas) please let me know!

[edienotsedgwick]

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-us-escape-gaza-a-mothers-plea-for-safety

Dear friends and supporters,

My name is Nada, and I am reaching out to you with a heavy heart and a sense of urgency. 

Here in Gaza, there is a small tent standing alone in the corner of a refugee camp. Inside it, I sit with my young children, trying to protect them in every way possible and provide them with comfort and safety despite the hardships.

My children and I are now in great danger and need your help to evacuate from Gaza to safety. The situation worsens every day with limited access to drinking water, food, and medicine, along with facing the horrors of war. 

The war has swept away our homes and dreams, and now we live in a tent, surrounded by hunger, fear, and diseases. My youngest son suffers from hepatitis due to pollution and lack of healthcare.

The days pass very slowly, and the situation deteriorates further each day. The need for food, medicine, water, shelter, and safety has become nearly impossible.

I have launched a fundraising campaign to facilitate our evacuation to Egypt and to start our lives anew. The ticket price to enter Egypt is $5,000 for each adult and $2,500 for children.

Your contribution, no matter how big or small, will make a significant difference in our lives and give us a chance for a brighter future. With your donation, you can be the light that illuminates our lives.

Please save my children; I do not want them to die in Gaza. If I cannot survive, please do not forget them. Protect them after I am gone.🙏🏼❤️

Hello Nada, thank you for reaching out! I’ll make sure to spread the word for you and your family.

Everyone who follows me if you could chip in some money or spread this ask it would be greatly appreciated! A little help goes a long way and right now it is urgent.

[lorz-ix]

I've seen some complaining about the bosses in AC6, and honestly I do like them quite a lot, but I find the real issue to lie more with the regular combat encounters in missions without bosses, as someone whose experience with the franchise comes from the classic PS1/PS2 era games.

To put it simply, most non-boss combat encounters pose little to no threat to the player, feeling more like a shooting gallery of insignificant enemies, and the difficulty spike once you reach one of these massive boss fights is a bit too absurd. In the old games, some missions were somewhat extended seek-and-destroy or exploration affairs, and individual enemies were barely meaningful on their own, so the challenge came from managing your ammo through the mission to deal with all of them, bringing enough ammo to begin with, and surviving the grind as each small group of enemies would slowly chip away at your AP if you weren't careful. Sometimes that grind through smaller enemies wasn't nearly enough to bring you down, but they ate through a bit of your resources and left you weakened once you got to the surprise AC fight at the end.

I realize AC6 has checkpoints and repair kits, and the checkpoints especially completely negate these kind of longer, grindier missions, but I dunno. I don't think they're a bad addition or anything, I'm just a bit bummed that the new game can't find a middle point between breezing through environments peppered with non-threats, and trying to end the player in a single encounter, often quite brutally.

Or perhaps I'm wrong and I'll find out when I get further into the campaign, after all I'm judging this before I'm halfway done, and only considering what I heard from a select few other players.

[jakegooglyeyes]

Emblem of Roses - 1

A/N: HAHA YOU READ THE PROLOGUE AND THOUGHT THIS FIC WAS LIGHT-HEARTED? FOOLS!!! DO YOU THINK THE ANGST TAG IS FOR FUNSIES?

@gyllenhaalstories​ And here it is, as promise. Jake being irritatingly dumb.

Prev > Part 1 > Next

Pairings: Jake Gyllenhaal x reader, Maggie Gyllenhaal x reader (Medieval AU)

Summary: You were content with your quiet life as an illegitimate daughter of the King, hanging out with the maids and learning your craft. All that ended when your father married you to Jake of House Gyllenhaal, the Usurper, as a peace offering, a hostage. The rebellious Lord, believing you are the same as your father, has no intention of letting you live comfortably while the people suffer.

Word count: 5,500

Warnings: 18+ MINOR DNI , RPF, DUBCON, angst, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, hate to pining, polyamory, slow burn with smut, political marriage, mean!Jake to pining!Jake, cunning!Maggie, kind!reader.

Chapter warnings: DUBCON, very mean!Jake, angst, hurt but almost no comfort, hate oral sex (male receiving), brief deep throat, choking, humiliation, minor injury, forced marriage, tw blood, tw violence, tw war.

*** Your online experience is your responsibility. You have been warned. If any of these content upsets you, DO NOT READ!!! ***

Divider credit: @/firefly-graphics

Lord Jacob Gyllenhaal has been called many names: the hero, the traitor, the savior, and the usurper. He was once the General serving the King. But after the incident 5 years ago, House Gyllenhaal crowned him as the Lord of the Free North and denounced the King. This declaration effectively splits the Kingdom in half, the rebels in the North and the royalists in the South. As many have feared, the Kingdom was thrown into a bloody civil war. Within the first year of the conflict, Lord Gyllenhaal launched several offensive campaigns. He successfully took over multiple key cities, further crippling the Kingdom that's already been eating itself from the inside. The insurgent was named the Roses Rebellion after the banner of House Gyllenhaal.

While the Lord was a powerful and fearless commander, it wasn't only his leadership that enabled him to achieve so much in so little time. After all, the royal army is twenty times more numerous and better equipped than the Lord's men. Instead, people credited his swift victories to the incompetence and cruelty of the royal family. Even before the war, people were already fed up with the King and the nobles. Taxes are incredibly high. Nobles are free to commit horrendous crimes against peasants and face no consequences. People's anger toward the monarchy led many to leave the Southern cities to join the rebellion army or run away from their despicable lords.

Following his most recent victory, Lord Gyllenhaal now controls the Kingdom's most important seaport, essentially cutting off considerable supplies to the South. Naturally, this puts the royalists on edge. Even if the Lord cannot continuously attack them, he can still slowly deprive them of resources for years. Unfortunately, the Lord's army also suffered many losses. Unlike the King, who doesn't value his people, Lord Gyllenhaal made a tough decision to halt his campaign to let his people regain their strength and avoid too much loss of lives.

The war comes to a stalemate in its fifth year. After that, the battles switch from swords and arrows to politics and pretense. Lady Maggie, the Lord's sister and strategist, sends a letter to the King proposing a marriage between the Lord and his beloved daughter to help ease the tension between the two sides. The offer includes the promise that House Gyllenhaal will allow the seaport to remain open to the South. This marriage will secure the Gyllenhaal two things: a political hostage and, more importantly, a potential claim for the throne should the royal princess bear the Lord's son.

The King nearly beheaded the messenger who brought him the letter. This feels like a slap on his face. The Gyllenhaal chips off his Kingdom bit by bit and then demands his daughter as a prisoner. This is the gravest insult.

"Father, I don't want to. That monster will kill me just like he killed my brother."

Your half-sister kneels by her father's throne. She buries her face into his gold-embroidered mantle, crying until her voice cracks. Every time the crown prince's death is mentioned, the nobles shudder.

During one of the most momentous battles of the war, the crown prince's men intercepted a group of refugees, mostly runaway servants from the capital. Citing treason, the prince ordered his men to commit the vilest crimes against them, leaving no survivor. This was unnecessarily evil and foolish, as the refugees were already within House Gyllenhaal's controlled area. In response, the Lord captured the crown prince and flayed him alive. And his corpse was left out to be eaten by maggots and crows. Lady Maggie justified her brother's unprecedented action as "the will of the people" and proclaimed none of the King's wicked spawns would be spared.

The King puts his hand on his daughter's head, comforting her. He ensures her that he will never send his precious princess to the enemy to endure any kind of mistreatment. As the King is weighing his options, one of the royal advisers steps up to speak.

"My King, the letter doesn't say the princess has to be legitimate. I believe we might have an alternative."

The King's wrinkled face lights up when he remembers the bastard daughter. He finally has use for you after all these years of tolerating your shameful presence. Now, he gets an excellent reason to get you out of his sight forever while sending a useless prisoner to the enemy. It's a stone that strikes two birds. Lord Gyllenhaal wants a hostage from the royal family and someone who can give his House a lawful heir to the throne. The King will provide him with neither of those.

"Y/N. Where did you put the rosemary?"

"Rosemary? It's in the fifth drawer of the thirteenth row."

You are busy sorting dried herbs and other ingredients with the senior healer in the castle's infirmary, unaware of the storm waiting for you. This has been your job for the last 5 years. When the Roses Rebellion started, the Kingdom called for soldiers and healers. Around that time, the old royal healer came across your makeshift garden and your stash of potions. After an hour of stern lecturing on how bad the potion quality was and how neglectful you were for selling them to people, the grumpy healer asked if you wanted to be her apprentice.

The King couldn't care less. And your step-siblings avoid you like the plague, often mocking (from a safe distance) that you might be carrying some infectious disease working in the infirmary days and nights. You, on the other hand, cannot be happier. You no longer had to snoop around the royal healers and steal medical books to learn the craft. And there is also the great bonus of evading your step-siblings. Your teacher is often cranky, but she is a good woman. She teaches you as much as you can comprehend and shows you things the books never mentioned. For you, the old woman has become a motherly figure you never had.

Your work is soon interrupted by a guard ordering you to present yourself to the King. Your teacher, who has already served two Kings in her life, recognizes that nothing good can come out of this. But there isn't much she can do to help you. She looks at you with reassuring eyes.

"Hurry up and come back, girl. This mess is not going to sort itself out."

You nod at her and follow the guard to see the King.

Stepping into the throne room you were never allowed to enter, you feel nothing but bone-crushing pressure. You look at the man sitting on the throne, surrounded by his beloved children. Your eyes land on the beautiful girl standing beside him with a gleeful smile. Although her eyes are puffy and watery from crying too much, she looks thrilled to see you. Your younger half-sister isn't as vicious as her brothers, but she's also never friendly toward you.

"Come here, my dear daughter. Let your father see how much you've grown."

The King's command sends a shiver down your spine. He never spoke to you like that, never called you his daughter. Your instinct is screaming something is wrong. You feel like a deer encircled by a pack of wolves, waiting to tear your throat open with their sharp teeth. Your feet take small, cautious steps closer to the throne. The King puts up the facade of a caring father.

"Ah, my poor daughter. This incapable father wishes he could protect you. But alas, we need your help."

You patiently listen to the King. He goes on and on about how he wanted to turn down House Gyllenhaal's proposal but didn't have any other options. How your half-sister is still too young to be married. And how you, a royal family member, have a duty to protect the Kingdom. You have nothing to say, nor will they let your say anything. It surprises you how calm you are throughout the whole speech. It's more of an order you can't refuse. Your fate is sealed. In two months, Lord Gyllenhaal will send his people to escort his new bride to Goldenhall.

Right before you're about to leave, your step-sister approaches and hands you a steel dagger. She puts on a fake smile, pretending she's worried about your safety. But you can tell she's disgusted, wanting nothing but to stay away from you. You soon find out the meaning of the dagger. The King gives you one final order, assassinate Lord Gyllenhaal. Your so-called father doesn't even attempt to hide his scheme. The reluctance in your eyes cannot escape the adviser. The cunning man vaguely mentions your teacher as a veiled threat to pressure you.

"Do not fret, princess. My King knows you're worried about the well-being of the senior healer. We'll take care of her in your stead."

You don't know when and how you returned to the infirmary. The old healer doesn't have to ask. Your face suggests whatever the King told you wasn't great news. She asks you to finish your work early for the day, seeing that you cannot focus and keep making mistakes. She takes you to a small adjacent room, where the healers rest.

"Will you tell this old woman what's wrong?"

Tears abruptly pour down when you hear your teacher ask. She cradles your head in her arms and rubs your shuddering back as you cry like a child. The old healer calmly waits for you to let everything out until you quiet down.

"Master, I'll have to leave in two months," you swallow your tears, "The King has ordered me to marry Lord Gyllenhaal."

You cannot tell her about his other order because you don't want to worry her more. The old woman is shocked to hear the news. At first, she wonders why the Northern Lord would ask for an illegitimate princess as his bride. And then she realizes you are a substitute, nothing but a sacrificial lamb.

"You must go there as your half-sister?"

You nod. Her eyebrows knit together. Under normal circumstances, this would not have been too bad. Lord Gyllenhaal is known to be an honorable man. But if the King sends you there as a scapegoat, you must go under the identity of the trueborn princess. The Gyllenhaal may treat peasants, and even prisoners, with dignity. But they still hold resentment against the royal family following their leader's imprisonment and torture. Moreover, many among their ranks have been wronged by the nobles. They will not like someone with royal blood.

And worst of all, Lady Maggie's declaration of eradicating all of the King's descendants may not bode well for you, even if the claim was just one of her psychological tactics. Even if the crown prince deserved what happened to him, it was, first and foremost, a message, just like the burning effigy of the King 5 years ago. What will happen when House Gyllenhaal wants to send another message?

"Listen to me, Y/N. You're a good lass. You might not be physically strong, but your spirit is. If Lord Gyllenhaal is as righteous as people say, he will not be the fool that hurts my girl. Otherwise, he's no different from the rotten bunch in this place. And if he makes you cry, I will personally travel to Goldenhall and beat the Lord's ass."

Your chest tightens when the old healer addresses you as if you were her daughter. The woman never had children, but she has cared for you like her own. You laugh weakly between the tears as your teacher threatens to spank the Lord with her oak cane. She's trying to make you feel better. But both of you understand you are on your own once you arrive at the Northern hold.

You keep the old healer's company for the entire afternoon. She reminds you what potions you may need when you get a cold or a bloated stomach. She talks non-stop about how the cold weather in the Northern cities will affect the herbs and how to take care of them. You listen carefully and memorize everything she says.

By evening, a few maids come to let you know starting tomorrow, you are relieved of your duty as an apprentice healer, and you must stay in your chamber to learn the manners and etiquettes of a noble lady. You bid your mentor farewell before returning to your cold and lifeless place but stop and turn around to see your teacher holding back her tears. A peculiar thought comes across your mind.

"Can... Can I call you mother?"

The old healer almost lost it. She opens her arms wide as tears roll down her cheeks. You let her embrace you in her warmth as you mutter a longing word. Mother.

The fateful day has come. You put on the dress that was sent by House Gyllenhaal. It's not as extravagant as the dress the ladies in the capital wear, but it is expensive nonetheless. The dress is decorated with rose motif embroideries and lined with fox fur to prepare the wearer for the cold of the North. The maids adorn your hair with a single red rose ornament to match your dress and put makeup on your face. Then, they lead you to the carriage that will take you to your new home. You hear some people snicker and stare at you with amusement before arriving at the stable.

And then you understand why. The carriage is just a two-horse wagon that people use to transport grains and other things. A single horse handler controls the wagon, accompanied by a handful of guards on horses. There are no decorations except the Gyllenhaal roses banner. So, your husband's House treats you like a commodity they've purchased. Well, considering you are, in fact, a hostage, you should at least be thankful they didn't send a prisoner cage on wheels to pick you up.

Very few come to see you off, apart from your teacher, no, mother, and a few servants who are your friends. The servants give you dried fruit and salted meat as parting gifts because it's the only thing they can afford. You thank them, feeling warm in your heart that some people still care for you. Your mother gives you a small silver ring, her most valuable possession. You carefully put it in your leather pouch for safekeeping. You wave at them one last time, not knowing whether you'll ever see them again.

"Let's go."

The horse handler yells. But he was talking to the horses, not even caring about you. You sit still as the wheels start to roll. You bring very little, two wooden chests: one for personal items like clothing and the other for books, dried ingredients, and potions. You cover your face with a veil, ignoring the chattering as the wagon goes through the busy main street leading out of the capital. This is another part of Lady Maggie's strategy, parading the princess like a spoil of war to humiliate the royal family.

"Too bad, they wouldn't care. I'm just a bastard, not a real princess."

Apart from the day you leave the capital and the day you must present yourself to the Lord, you wear your regular clothes and put away the rose-embroidered dress. As a result, you look nothing like a princess about to be married to a Lord.

The journey is arduous. The horse handler thinks a princess like you would whine and complain, but you keep quiet the whole time, often burying your face in books when you are not eating or sleeping. Realizing you're more capable of handling yourself than his initial judgment, his attitude toward you softens somewhat. But still, it has nothing to do with him. You don't talk to him, and he leaves you alone. The wagon only stops to get supplies from the towns along the way or to rest for a few hours. Eventually, you enter the Northern territory, feeling the chill in the air.

When Goldenhall slowly appears on the horizon, you learn how unfitting the name is. The walled city is situated in a river valley, surrounded by majestic mountain ranges and pine wood. The place was built to withstand a siege and last for years.

The wagon slowly passes through the outer gate, approaching the solemn fortress on top of raised ground, surrounded by an extensive moat. Next, you go through a drawbridge, followed by a heavy gate before it closes behind you. The wagon then stops at the largest building in the fortress' center, where a man wearing a suit of armor is waiting for you on the stone steps.

You recognize the armor. It looks exactly like the armor with the two-rose emblem you saw five years ago. Except this one was tailored to fit a man, with broader shoulders perfectly complimenting his impressive physique. You step down from the wagon and finally have a clear view of your future husband.

Lord Gyllenhaal is a man in his prime with a ruggedly handsome look. But the way he looks at you makes your skin crawl. There is nothing but hostility and contempt in those blue eyes. You fear he will butcher you instantly if you dare to breathe wrong. It becomes apparent that he sees you the same way he sees the King and the royal family. You wonder if he would love to skin you alive as he did to the crown prince. Your time here suddenly doesn't look too good.

Things turn awkward as he stands idly on the higher steps, staring down at you, making you feel so tiny compared to him. You bend your knees a little to greet the Lord, who doesn't even bother to return the courtesy. Instead, he studies you from head to toe, looking for things to be bitter about. Finally, the Lord found one. He lifts his hand and tears the single red rose ornament out of your hair before throwing it onto the stone, crushing it under his boots. The hair on that side falls out, landing on your shoulder.

"It is an insult to only wear half of the House symbol. Do you not know this?"

"I'm truly sorry, My Lord. I really did not know. It will not happen again."

You frantically apologize while trying to fix your hair before anyone can see. You should not be seen unkempt, neither as a princess nor the Lord's bride. You dislike his blatant intimidation, but he isn't wrong. You realize even the repeated patterns on your dress denote two roses nestling together. You must pay more attention if you want your days to be peaceful.

"You should try harder if you are to be my wedded wife. We know you and your family look down upon our family and people. But out here, you are no longer a princess. You follow our rules." Before you have a chance to respond, the Lord turns his back on you and walks inside. "Come, do not make us wait."

You follow the Lord inside the building where his most important subjects are waiting to witness his wedding. This is the main hall where the Lord and Lady address their people. Some look amused at your embarrassment, while others grimace at the disrespect. They must have heard your exchange outside.

Your eyes are immediately drawn to the graceful woman at the front end of the room. You remember her, 5 years ago on the crowded town square, between you and the loose horses. Today, she sports a rose-motif gown similar to the one you're wearing, albeit more austere and decorated with silver threads.

"Welcome to our humble abode. I hope the journey was not too tough on you, princess."

Lady Gyllenhaal smiles at you diplomatically as if she wasn't the one who orchestrated your humiliation. You have no clue her politeness is better or worse than her brother's scorn. At least with the Lord, you can tell what he might be thinking. His distaste for you, for example. You nod lightly before expressing your gratitude and other pleasantries you were taught to say. But, of course, she completely ignores them.

"Oh my, what happened to your hair?"

The lady gestures at one of her maids and approaches you. The maid soon brings her several metal hairpins and brooches. Lady Gyllenhaal carefully examines your hair's length and texture before securing the fallen hair with a few pins. She finalizes her work with an accessory made from decorative ironwork and colored stones, depicting, unsurprisingly, two roses.

"You have to forgive my brother. Our symbol represents unity and is not meant to be seen broken apart. But I am sure it was just an honest mistake. I will personally remind the Lord that not every swineherd or stableboy in this fortress knows about this rule."

"Oh? But she isn't a swineherd or stableboy now, is she? Should my future wife not know these things?"

"That's quite enough, My Lord."

The lady scolds her brother before returning to her position. You hear faint snickering around you. The Lord and Lady's treatment, friendly or otherwise, is the Gyllenhaals' way of showing people you are at their mercy. You just have to bear it, hoping they ignore you once they're bored. Confrontation will only hurt you. On the bright side, this is nowhere near the bullying you got from the people in the capital. You can handle this, you think.

Lady Gyllenhaal officiates the wedding. She recites prayers, the House's blessings, and other formalities. Despite declaring independence from the Kingdom, most customs remain the same, minus the praise for the King. So you can follow easily... until the Lord's turn to recite his vow.

"This is a waste of time." The Lord curses under his breath. Only you and the lady can hear. The woman clears her throat a few times, but he still won't budge.

"Jacob. I said enough." Lady Gyllenhaal's brows knit together. She gets so impatient with her brother's aggression that she stops using his honorary title.

In the end, Lord Gyllenhaal gives in. He glares at you before taking a full breath. His eyes soften for a brief moment as he seems to think of something else.

"I, Jacob of House Gyllenhaal, take my beloved one as my one and only wife. I vow to always give you my love and protection for as long as I shall live."

The first thought that comes to your mind is this oath is not for you. You wonder if the Lord has someone in his heart, though you're not in the position to ask. The thought goes away as quickly as it comes. You calmly recite your vow before Lady Gyllenhaal announces the two of you are husband and wife. Then, just when you expect the Lord will give you a kiss, he lets go of your hands and storms out of the room, leaving you alone and shamed in front of all the guests.

"I will speak to him. You must be tired. Let the maids show you to your chamber."

"Thank you, my Lady. You have been very kind."

You're still grateful despite knowing that the Lady only feigns her kindness. She has been the only person to show you kindness since you set foot in this place. To you, she is the same person who rode the black steed and saved your life years ago. And you take solace in that memory.

The maids leave you in the bed chamber. It's the same as everywhere else in the fortress, bare with little decorations. The room is decently clean, but it barely has any signs of people living in it. So, it is definitely not the Lord's chamber. A faint smell of mold still lingers, revealing this room was probably cleaned not long before you arrived. An unused spare bedroom is your first guess. You feel like an uninvited guest who overstays her welcome.

You sit on the bed and wait for what seems like hours. The sun has gone down, and the only light source is the fireplace. Then, just as you are about to fall asleep, you hear people arguing outside the room. But they are a tad too far to make out what they are saying. You can only tell it is the Lord and Lady Gyllenhaal. The noises are getting closer. The Lord sounds irritated, and his sister is equally annoyed, probably at him.

"Jacob, I want to see the girl ALIVE in the morning."

"FINE."

You jump out from your sitting spot as you hear their last exchange. The Lord kicks open the door and immediately slams it behind him with so much force that the sound almost hurts your ears. He scans the room like a hawk and sees you standing near the window farthest from the door. He chuckles with menace.

"Don't look at me like that. If anyone kills you in these walls, it's my dear sister."

He has removed his armor, leaving his trousers and shirt, which slightly opens to show his burly chest. He also reeks of alcohol. But, apart from the redness on his face and neck, he doesn't seem any less conscious. He drops himself onto the bed, facing you.

"Come here."

You try to stay calm, but your cold chill runs down your spine, and your hands are already sweaty. You are hoping the Lord would be too drunk and pass out any time now. But, unlucky for you, your hesitation only upsets him more.

"Don't make me repeat myself. Come here."

You walk until you stand in front of him. You open your mouth several times but don't know what to say. Finally, you decide it's best to keep quiet. He probably will loathe anything that comes from you.

"Strip."

So, it has come to this. You expect this to happen, but your mind is still resisting. You think of his wedding vow, which is never meant for you. The Lord must be upset because you take the place of his "beloved one." No one wants to be here, not you, not this man. But shouldn't you be the one who gets to be angry? You didn't do anything or hurt anyone. You didn't ask for any of this. All you want is to stay with your mother, work in the infirmary, and grow your plants. So, what gives everyone the right to take their problems out on you?

You slip the dress off as slowly as possible, wallowing in your quiet self-pity. The Lord watches as piece after piece of your clothes is removed. You're left standing there with your arms over your chest and private part. He grabs your arms and pulls them away, forcing you to be exposed to him. Even with the fireplace crackling, the air is still freezing, especially at night.

"Not bad for that old pig's blood. I'll make this easy for you."

The Lord begins to unbuckle his trousers, freeing his already erect manhood. The wine does make things easier. You would have been frightened by his size if you weren't already scared out of your mind. It's much bigger than the wooden models the maids show you during the two months of preparation.

"On your knees."

Your limbs go rigid. The cold makes your brain grind to a halt. It takes you a few moments to register what the Lord is saying. Annoyed at your lack of corporation, the man brings a hand to your crotch, stroking the soft mound.

"Or would my royal whore prefer an alternative?"

You are jolted awake by the feeling of his rough fingers. You step back, evading his touch. Reluctantly, you bend your knees and kneel between his thighs, eyes looking to the side, not wanting to see his veiny member. He grabs the back of your head and pulls you closer before his other hand guides the bulbous tip to your lips. Like the maids showed you, you open your mouth, taking him in.

"What a good royal whore. I would keep you around if you weren't an offspring of that pig. How revolting."

He says that, but his hand increases its strength, pushing your head down on his erection. You hear him groaning as more and more of his member invades your mouth. Soon, you let out a soft whimper, feeling you've reached your limit and cannot receive any more. But he hasn't taken enough pleasure from you. The Lord's grip grows tight. His other arm supports him on the bed, and he starts thrusting his hip upward.

"Relax your throat, or it will hurt even more."

Your shriek gets blocked off by the cock that suddenly goes down your throat. Tears start to well up in your eyes. Your nails dig into his thighs as the onslaught in your mouth continues. Your eyes roll back as the air in your lungs depletes with each thrust. Your pained sobbing excites him more, seeing his enemy's daughter suffer and in ruin.

Without warning, the Lord shoves your head down until your nose feels the coarse hair on his abdomen. He holds your head in place, ignoring your helpless flailing and muffled screams for air. Excessive spit runs down your chin and pools on the bed sheet.

"Oh, are you crying? Is this too much for you? I promise this is nothing compared to what your family did. Cry as much as you want. You look better crying while choking on my cock."

As you are about to fall unconscious, he pulls away, not entirely, but at least your airway is freed. Before you can take a breath, a hot liquid hits your tongue and fills your mouth's cavity. The Lord sighs, seemingly satisfied after taking out his fury and resentment on you. He withdraws his softening member while keeping his hand on your neck.

"On the bed sheet. Spit it out."

You obediently listen, not caring about his reason. You just want this to be over quick. You crawl halfway onto the bed and let out the seed he spilled inside your mouth, at least whatever you didn't accidentally swallow.

Thinking your nightmare is over, you try to gather the clothes on the floor to cover yourself. Your left wrist suddenly gets grabbed, and your eyes widen in fear as you see the Lord has unsheathed a dagger. Your reflex is quicker than your reason. You push the Lord away and regret it almost instantly, but your body feels like it has a mind of its own. For whatever reason, you try to bolt for the door. But you haven't taken a second step before a strong hand grips your arm and throws you onto the cold stone floor. The Lord's hand wraps around your throat and forces you to face him.

"You move without my permission again, and I'm going to chop your fucking legs off. My sister only said to keep you alive, not intact."

He shoves your head on the mattress and takes your left hand. The blade cuts into your palm. You squeeze your eyes shut and bite your lips, enduring the sharp pain as blood starts trickling down the bed sheet, mixing with the off-white seed, soaking into the fabric.

"See, that was easy, wasn't it."

He lets go of your hand and takes one look at his creation before opening the door to call for a maid. Then, without another word, he leaves the room, leaving you sitting on the floor, clutching your clothes with your hand to regain some sense of modesty and to stop the bleeding.

A middle-aged maid enters the room. She observes you as if to confirm something before changing the dirty bedsheet with a clean one. She then brings the discarded sheet with her outside. Once the door is closed, you are left alone again, with nothing but the faint heat and light from the fireplace illuminating the rose patterns on your crumbled dress.

The roses hurt your eyes like fire, and you don't want to see them anymore. You fold the gown neatly and set it down on a wooden chair. Then, you put on the clothes from one of the chests you bought here. Your stomach starts to grumble, reminding you that you haven't eaten since morning. Not wanting to talk to anyone right now, you search your chest for the dried fruit your friends gave you and take a few pieces. The sweetness calms you and also washes away the Lord's lingering taste. You take a small leather pouch with you to the bed. There are only two trinkets inside. One is the ring your mother gave you, and the other is a pendant with a peculiar stone. You hold the pouch close to your chest and slowly fall asleep from exhaustion.

[thessalian]

Thess vs The Yearly Dilemma

Actually, to be fair, The Yearly Dilemma is a little different this year. Because, of course, it is now December and the holidays will be upon us sooner than we probably care to think about. So as always, the question is: what do I get for the parentals?

Now, see, the parentals know damn well what the economic situation in this country is. Now, they might feel a little better about my getting them much of anything because of the sheer amount of overtime I've put in the last few months, but still, their whole thing is "DO NOT SPEND TOO MUCH MONEY ON US". So that puts some limiters on the whole thing. Still, if you're remotely creative (and I like to think I am), that still leaves a lot of options.

Now, my mother's more or less handled this year, though I need to consider something for her birthday. I was talking to my stepdad one of the times he was over and happened to point out my Foozies - big warm chunky alpaca-fleece slipper-socks. My stepdad didn't want a pair, as apparently he is one of those lucky sods whose extremities do not get cold, but he thought my mother might like a pair. I wanted a spare pair for myself anyway so when I went to order, I ordered two - one for me and one for her. They'll probably keep her feet warmer than her little ballerina slipper-looking things.

Now, for the last couple of years, the whole thing about "Do not make food for your stepdad; we generally have enough food around this time of year already" has gone effectively out the window. This is mostly because they know that's the least expensive way I have of gifting my stepdad with something he'd actually want (I mean, he's shit at even dropping hints anyway) ... but I think part of it is that, especially after the tidbits of my baking that have come his way this year, and last year's peanut butter fudge triumph, my stepdad is in no way going to turn away my cooking.

The question is ... what do I make the man?

I mean, it's probably going to be a selection anyway, because at least some of it is going to be a shared gift for him and my mother. But some of it has to be just for him. He's fond of peanut butter where my mother isn't, so there could be peanut butter bread. Also he really enjoyed my Admiral's Gingerbread, and showed keen interest when I mentioned making gingrebread cookies, so ginger's another flavour note I guess he likes. But honestly, he is not a picky person so just as long as it tastes good, it doesn't really matter. Which in a way is a pity because that really fuels the fires of my raging executive dysfunction.

As for me? Well, I've had Christmas and birthday gifts from the parentals this year already, and I have the autographs in my Tal'Dorei Campaign Setting guide to prove it. If they ask about smallish things this year ... I dunno. Depends on what they consider 'smallish', I suppose. Honestly, even just an extra set of measuring cups and measuring spoons would be nice. Seriously, my wants this year are relatively few, and a lot of them involve kitchen stuff. Well, that and just about anything off my Steam wish list - the bit I am going to miss this year is spending Steam gift cards in the Christmas sales.

(Still totally worth it.)

The kitchen stuff ... well ... I have an entire Amazon wish list specifically for the kitchen stuff I want. I've been chipping away at it a few items at a time, but there's always something else. Still, I can take these things slowly. At some point this week I'll be making gołąbki (it's pronounced go-WUMP-ki or go-LUMP-ki and it's basically Polish cabbage rolls), and that's mostly going to need the Le Creuset baking dish that I still love so very, very much. That and pierogi, which is mostly pots and my good skillet if I want to brown them after steaming. And I get a whole big chunk of overtime pay just in time for the after-Christmas sales, so I can probably whittle that list down a fair bit.

Oh, yeah, on the subject of cooking experiments, I made chicken katsu today. It actually came out really well, and I had real chicken katsu curry for the first time in aaaaaaaaaaaages. Go, me!

[acanvasofabillionsuns]

you ever look back on your day and you go whoa that was a rollercoaster but at the time it was just whatever? yeah.

wore my fedora and i didn't get called out for it once!!!

also some kitty cat earrings and a dress bc i wanted to :D

relearned how to do the star stitch in crochet!

finished 2 crochet projects, one of which i started earlier this evening

got to avoid being shoved in the gym for over an hour and i got candy out of it 😎

let's call the whole thing off by ella fitzgerald and louis armstrong my beloved <3

also the savoy ballroom google doodle my not quite beloved bc bei mir bist du schon (ik i didn't spell that right and i'm so sorry) is HARD yo

watched a couple of theamandafiles arceus playthrough vids (one of them a rewatch alksjfs) and that was quite nice :]]

i also finished an rtgames vid i started a couple days ago!! super fun :D

got a date for starting a dnd campaign!!!!

also been thinking about my character for another dnd campaign and i looked over some spells and stuff and i'm just! real excited :)

okay also shout out to annapantsu's cover of gimme gimme gimme it slaps so hard

i have been chilling with martin in vc for a few hours and tbh i'm p sure he fell asleep like 15 minutes in but it's still been nice <333

martin if you see this i love you ( ˘ ³˘)♥

finished an INCREDIBLE fic and may i just say. aHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

my sisters were in a call with their friends and they told me like three times how their friends think i'm cool, that was quite nice :D

oh i also read a chapter of another amazing fic and it was so good 👀 this one i've been chipping away at more slowly both bc i've been following along since near the beginning and bc the chapters are chonky and since i read it on my phone and switch over to notes so i can compose comments then it takes a bit

i had! four whole packages come in!! they were all gifts that i'd ordered around the same time but i did Not expect them to all come today so that was a fun little surprise :]

mmmm that's it! goodnight for me and good morning when this is posted <3

[whatamesswehavemade]

I Want My Boyfriend Back- Eddie Munson x Reader

Pairings: Eddie x female!reader

Request: No, but I am taking requests :)

Word count: 2149 (I let it get away from me, sorry!)

Summary: Eddie has been distant and you have felt alone. You confront him after tireless nights of crying, feeling like you’re losing your boyfriend. 

Warnings: cursing, crying, allusions to sex–– but all fluff nonetheless.

“Why are boys dumb?” Max throws herself onto your bed with a huff. El follows her.

“I ask myself the same question every day,” you reply, finishing applying your concealer–– the bags under your eyes a deep, puffy purple that needed to be covered up in order to look stronger. You turn to the two girls and cross your arms. “But guess what–– while they can be stupid as shit, we can be crazy as shit. Let’s go.”

Max and El jump to their feet. You grab your keys and head out, hearing the girls’ footsteps behind you.

Lucas had stood Max up on two different dates this week: one due to “basketball practice”–– which she later found out was him hanging with the jocks–– and the second one was to be with Hellfire Club dweebs.

Mike had stood El up–– she was visiting from California, and instead of spending time with his girlfriend, he’s been working on a campaign with the same dweebs.

And you? Your boyfriend stood you up every day for the past three weeks, complaining about his band or getting this game started for the boys. Your boyfriend was the dumbass leading these dweebs: Eddie.

You pulled up outside Gareth’s house, knowing this would be where they’d be playing tonight. All of the boys’ bikes laying across the grass–– incriminating evidence.

You turn around from the driver’s seat and look at the girls. Their eyes were glued to the house, a mixture of anger and nervousness washing over their faces. “Stay behind me and look like the badass, bitchin’ women you are.”

“Bitchin’,” replied El with a smirk.

You walk up the steps of the house. You’ve been here before with Eddie, watching his band practice. Gareth’s mom likes you, so this part is no problem.

Rapting your knuckles gently on the door frame, you put on your best fake smile and wait for his mother to show up. The calm before the storm, you think, making sure the boys won't see this coming.

The door opens to Gareth’s middle-aged, adorable little mother. “Oh, Y/N! How are you, dear? And who are these adorable girls with you?”

“Hi! I’m good! This is Jane and Max,” you gesture to the girls behind you, both of them waving timidly. “We’re here to see the boys. Are they downstairs?”

Before she could answer, you hear the boys all yell and cheer. His mother looks at you with a laugh, “I guess they answered your question, sweetie.” She steps away and lets you three in. 

She hands you a plate of her freshly baked cookies in the process. “Could you take this down to them? You girls are more than welcome to help yourselves as well! I have another batch in the oven.”

You gladly take the plate in your hands as El reaches up and grabs one off the plate, Max following. You knew she wasn’t lying about that second batch; the entire house smells of warm chocolate chip cookies.

The three boys didn’t deserve these niceties.

You lead the girls to the basement door, opening it slowly, not to bring attention. The smell of gym socks wafting over you, taking over the pleasant baked-goods smell. You roll your eyes and start down the stairs–– inevitably, the steps creaking.

“Mom, I said not to come down here!” the boys quiet at your footsteps, and Gareth sounds annoyed. You smile and turn your head to the girls. Jeez, they looked excited. That’s my girls.

When you come into view of the boys, you see Eddie gulp. Max is behind you, and Lucas looks worried. But no one seems as scared shitless as Mike when El comes into view. 

“W-what are you girls doing here?” Eddie clears his throat as he stares at you, anger and fear washing over his expression. 

You don’t get a chance to say anything. El speaks up, “Mike. We’re leaving. Now.”

She looks pissed. He doesn’t even argue. He glances at Eddie but quickly gets up and walks over to El.

They start up the steps. “Wait, don’t you need a ride?”

“No. We’ll walk.” El shrugs and grabs Mike’s hand, and goes up the steps. You smile and look over at Max, who is staring at Lucas.

“Lucas, we’re leaving too.”

“But we’re in the middle of this campaign! Max, just let us finish and––” 

“Nope, we’re leaving. Now. Unless you don’t want a girlfriend anymore.”

With that, he quickly gets up, ducking his head to hide the embarrassment, and leaves swiftly with Max. “We’re good too. No ride.”

That leaves you and Eddie. You’re clutching the plate but smiling at his annoyed look. “You happy, Y/N? You’ve ripped apart our campaign. Now we have to be done for the night. This sets us back a week now!”

Dustin gets up from where he’s seated and approaches you. This was the only member of Hellfire you were somewhat scared of–– his ego was bigger than his little body. He’s never gone off on you, but he definitely holds his ground against Steve, all his little friends, and even Eddie–– no one talks back to Eddie but you and Dustin.

But, he smiles at you, grabs the plate from your hands, and takes a huge bite of a cookie. “That sucks. I was hoping to move further tonight, but whatever. Y/N, will drive me home?”

You smile down at him and ruffle his hat. “Sure, but that also depends if you’re chill with a car ride with a pissed-off Eddie.”

Dustin looks at Eddie, who is scowling at you. He looks back up at you, “Sure, just take me home first before all the yelling starts.”

“What about my van here?”

“You can get it later, right, Gareth?” you snap, but then look at his friend, who just looks scared.

“Yeah, that’s fine. No problem, Y/N.” It makes you smile at how most of Eddie’s friends are scared of you. Eddie may be their club leader, but they all know what you say truly goes.

“Eddie, let’s go.” He stares at you as if he’s not going to follow, but he sighs and slowly gets to his feet. He follows behind you and Dustin–– who is still holding the plate of cookies, probably on his fifth one already. You say bye to Gareth’s mom in the sweetest tone you can and head out with the boys.

“Shotgun!” Dustin yells, running to your car and getting in the front seat.

“No, dipshit, back seat. This is my girlfriend’s car,” Eddie barks.

You turn and put your hand on his chest, stopping him in his tracks. “No, no, he sits in front. You’re the dipshit that’s sitting in the back. Unless you’d rather not see me again.” You poke harshly at his chest. He rolls his eyes and gently bats your hand away, walking towards the car and sliding into the back.

The car ride is silent between you and Eddie but loud with false excitement between you and Dustin. You love entertaining Dustin, even when in a bad mood. He’s one of the only boys you actually can put up with. Hmm, maybe we both have the same ego.

Once Dustin is dropped off, you drive down the street a bit before Eddie pipes up, “So my place or yours? I know my uncle is outta town. And your mom is still outta town too, right? So we have all of the privacy we want.”

You break hard, making him hit his face against your seat, and put your car in park. He’s rubbing his forehead as you turn around and look at him. “You think you’re getting laid, Munson? Are you fucking kidding me?”

His eyes turn lust-filled. “Isn’t this what all of this is about? That I haven't been paying enough attention to you?” He reaches for your arm, rubbing his hand slowly up and down your skin.

“Yeah, not enough attention, but not in a sex way. In a ‘I want to see my fucking boyfriend because I haven’t seen him in three fucking weeks, and I-I just want my boyfriend back’ kinda w-way.” You turn back before he can see the tears well in your eyes, but you know your cracking voice gave you away. You drive off again towards your house. 

Funny that I asked the girls to be badasses when I can’t.

Eddie’s eyes were glued to your review mirror, trying to get you to make eye contact with him. He looked to be pleading with you through just his eyes. He knew you weren’t in the mood for talking, so he sat silent, listening to your heavy breathing that you tried to calm.

You pull into your driveway, shut the car off, and slam your door, Eddie trying to keep up behind you. Once inside your house, Eddie grabs your hand, making you turn to him. You look at him, annoyed and waiting for him to speak. But he was waiting for you as well.

“Ugh, never mind,” you try to pull your hand away, but his grip tightens. You feel defeated. You feel stupid. I don’t own him, I shouldn’t make him see me weekly. Maybe I’m not enough for him.

You start crying, raising your free hand to wipe away the tears, but they kept coming. Eddie pulls you into a hug, letting you sob into his Hellfire shirt. 

He strokes the back of your head. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I know I’ve been distant. I should’ve called. I should’ve stopped by. I should’ve been here. I don’t know where my head has been. I’ve been so invested in this campaign, I haven’t made time for us. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He takes this time to look around your living room, seeing it’s a mess of dishes, take out, clothes, and blankets. 

Your mom keeps the house pristine, and that had rubbed off on you. Most times you’re in his trailer, you’re cleaning it. He always begs you to stop, but you hate filth. He thinks about when you had said your mom had left. You had nudged him about it, that you two could be completely alone–– you’d have the house to yourself for six weeks, the first time your mom had ever left you that long. You had been alone for half the time she’s been gone and Eddie hasn’t even come over once to at least watch a movie with you or even stay the night.

“Shit, babe. I’m so sorry.” His arms tighten around you, and he starts crying as well.

You whisper into his soaked shirt, “I’ve missed you. I’ve felt like you don’t care, and I’ve just missed you.”

He pulls you back so he can look into your eyes. “Of course I care about you. Of course I do.” He wipes his thumb under your eyes, picking up your tears. He lets go of you and shrugs out of his jean jacket. He wraps it around your shoulders and guides you to a clean spot on the couch–– the one spot you’ve been sitting in for the past three weeks. “I’m gonna make it up to you, princess. Stay here.”

You watch him as he walks over to the lighswitch, flipping the living room lights on. It’s the brightest it’s been since your mom left. You watch him as he disappears into the kitchen and it back within seconds with a trash bag. He starts picking up your mess. You feel hot, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He looks up and catches your look. 

He smiles, “Babe, you always do it for me. I’m taking care of you now.” You smile, realzing everything is OK again.

“When you’re done, do you wanna go to Family Video and pick up a movie?” you ask, timidly.

“And annoy Harrington? Fuck yeah. You get to pick the movie babe. And when we get back here, we’ll cuddle and pop some popcorn and watch whatever you want all night. And I’ll stay the night and we can do it all again tomorrow.”

You giggle and wrap his jacket around you tighter as he goes back to cleaning.

He flips his hair over his shoulder, but it goes right back into his face. He pops his head up and looks at your hands. “Hey babe, can I borrow your hairtie?”

You take it off your wrist and motion for him to come over. “C’mere, I’ll tie your hair up.”

Eddie is quickly sitting on the floor between your knees as your collect his hair back into a tight ponytail. You lean down and kiss his cheek when you’re done. He turns his head and catches your lips with his.

He pulls away slightly, leaning his forehead against yours. “I love you, Y/N. So much.”

“I love you too, Eddie.”

[rights-for-redshirts]

AU where Anakin drops out of training halfway through his Padawanship and starts a mechanic shop of his own. This, predictably, saves the galaxy.

Because let's be real, he would be insanely good at it. This leads to several patents running under his name by the time he is 18, including but not limited to

A very easy and cheap to build scanner that *can* be used for detecting slave chips (the Hutts are Not Amused by the skyrocketing number of freedom trail escapees. There is a bounty on his head because he is silently donating a lot of his money to the people organizing said freedom trails. Anakin is aware of this but doesn't let it show. It is a badge of honor, but not one everyone knows how to read. The people who do know know either way.)

a little addition to hyperspace antennae bc he wanted!! to talk to!! his mother!! more often!! that coincidentally completely revolutionized military communication (Anakin is unaware of this)

some type of hyperspace engine modification just because ships and space travel are cool. This also starts to revolutionise research in that area; "The Force told me I could" may not be a valid basis for a scientific project, but "How the kriff does that mechanic DO THAT" sure is

Probably some lightsaber modifications bc come. On. There's no way he wouldn't find a way to improve those. (In the ensuing legal battle, it is noted that the construction and possession of lightsabers is no longer prohibited to the general public. Some Jedi Shadows slip away and do some investigating into when exactly that was changed. And by whom.)

He can’t buy his mother back because even though he has the money now, Watto won't sell her in the hopes of extorting him with her welfare. Anakin is this close to hiring a bounty hunter to deal with this and rescue his mum by himself. Only is Shmi happily busy directing her fellow slaves to operation centers and has no intention of stopping by leaving the planet ("Mum, don't you always say the true tragedy in the galaxy is that nobody helps each other?" Yeah, that woman is SO organizing the resistance against the Hutts.)

While the Jedi aren't really allowed to help because of politics, a good deal of them (the chaotic good alignment faction, i.e. Quinlan Vos & Company) help whenever they can, brokering peace with the original natives (Tuskens and Jawas) to facilitate escape through the desert and prepare an interim government for the inevitable slave/native revolt against the hutts. The council turns a blind eye to this, because a) they know it's the right thing to do and b) the lightsaber permit headache.

It's up to you which faction Obi-Wan belongs to.

The Techno Union is extremely unhappy about their monopoly on, well, technology being broken. This leads to some more legal battles that ... idk, I didn’t think this through, but they lose. Badly, and this proceeds to drag the Banking Clan and Trade Federation down with them as further investigations are opened.

Padmé delightedly pounces on the opportunity to drag all of them down and get revenge on Nute Gunray; she and Anakin make a magnificent team by combining political/legal and technical/market expertise into hell of a headache for the people who would otherwise fund the Separatists. There may or may not be a passionate kiss over some legal evidence and spare parts.

Sidious, who had so far been trying to push all the pieces into position he will need for the Clone Wars while keeping Anakin friendly to him and slowly building public support, now has his hands full juggling a) the lightsaber construction legislature investigation from the Jedi, of which they keep him duly informed (stressful), b) Anakin hyperfixating on mechanics so badly he hardly has time to spiral, never mind build up resentment against the Jedi, c) the Techno Union, the Banking Clans and the Trade Federation slowly crumbling under the combined weight of Skywalker being stubborn, Amidala campaigning and R2 slicing some pretty damning evidence, taking the financial backing for the droid army with them; d) what do you mean, the attempt on Shmi Skywalker's life was thwarted by a random Jedi "passing through" and several hundred newly freed slaves?? Since when did the Outer Rim start getting democratic??, e) with the slow, but steady dismantling of the three most powerful enterprises in the Republic, the main reasons for secession (Republic inefficiency, corruption, and corporate greed using monopolies to choke smaller planets into financial ruin and dependency) slowly falling away, the reasons for a war also fade into nothingness and the Republic returns to functionality.

By that time, the Jedi Shadows, led by Mace Windu (who traced the lightsaber construction thing) and the Jedi Slave Freeers (who traced the attempt on Shmi's life) meet up in front of the chancellor's office like the spidermen meme, down to kill a chancellor for completely different but both very valid reasons.

Upon opening the door, they find Padmé Amidala with a Ysalamiri lizard and a blaster. The unexploded (because Force-blocked) body of the Chancellor is lying in front of her, three smoking holes in his chest (he tried to blackmail her into leaving the Techno Union alone by way of her affair with Anakin (that she, as a Senator from Naboo, is not allowed to have). She brought the lizard without knowing it blocked the Force, but she got it as a gift from Anakin, who told her it would keep her safe if ...).

Mace Windu deactivates his lightsaber and tells Padmé with a straight face to drop the gun. There might be fingerprints on it that could lead to the culprit.