#the map in question is a zombie one

[dumpster-lizard]

I love my bf cause he let me show him a warrior cats MAP i thought was funny and he spent the entire time raging about the anthro eyes and how most people draw them like dogs

[grimesgirll]

heyy could you write Negan smut, with them both fighting for dominance while they fuck, taunting each other; Maybe because they known each other before the apocalypse so she isn’t as intimidated by Negan like the rest.

you have to be the hottest thing he’s seen in quite sometime.

negan, simon, and dwight had heard the gunshots from your shotgun and stumbled upon you; all alone, fending off a few dozen walkers.

simon had insisted that they leave and not risk their safety for “some broad”, and negan was on board until he realized that wasn’t just any broad - it was you.

the three cut through the horde of walkers at negan's insistence. braving bloated corpses and trudging over the trampled isn't a simple feat - even with guns. minutes pass until you're finally face to face. half dazed, you did a double take once your eyes suddenly met the disgraced gym teacher's.

then you hit the ground.

when you woke up, mr. smith was there. you were shocked to see him and even more surprised to learn that he was the leader of an up and coming survival group.

“what about your wife?” you’d asked. “mrs. smith is really cool.”

made slightly dramatic by age, the pained twist of the former faculty's face has you regretting your question.

mrs. smith was really cool.

mr. smith had once been too. kind as well. negan is looks cool, and you can't deny that there's a cult of personality that can't be beat with him. not kind though.

no, you'd learned your first week that the gym teacher who had once teased you about college partying on the playground was now a certified psychopath. as a teaching assistant and faculty shadow at the school, you'd befriended negan easily. the two of you pulled off witty banter as you dropped the kids off for gym, even accepting invitations to join the day's activity.

mr. smith was no more and negan's now burning faces off. you'd seen that. just like you'd seen the floggings, the beatings, the spankings, and even the wall. waking up one day to see the nurse you'd grown fond of outside wandering as a walker was enough for you to tweak.

“what did she do?”

negan looks up from a map of northern virginia to grin at you. “hey, doll! what’s goin’ on?” he kicks his feet up on the desk. “don’t see much of you around here.”

“yeah, because i can barely get by your goons.”

he shrugs. “seems like you got up here just fine.”

you’d sideskirted fat joey when he left his post to top off his dr. pepper. it was easy enough to walk your way to negan’s office to confront him.

“why is the woman who trained me walking around the front yard as a zombie?” you question, not breaking eye contact with the smirking leader. “what could she have done to deserve that?” you let out an exasperated breath, reigning it in with another deep umhals before asking, “don’t you think that’s fucking extreme?”

if negan softens, you really can’t tell. all that comes from the man is a laugh. “you mean the nurse who was planning on robbin’ us all blind and hightailing it with nearly all of our narcotics?”

you don’t even have the care to gawk at him. “could she not have been rehabilitated?”

he scoffs at you. “once an addict, always an addict.”

a sudden wave of dread comes over you, and for a moment you think it may be your lunch coming back up but one look at your former fellow faculty member and you know it’s purely disgust.

“she was my friend!”

“you’ll make more!”

“she was my only friend here,” the words croak out of your mouth.

negan just chews on his lip and shrugs. “sorry, honey, you’ll just have to start bein’ friendlier then.” a smirk spreads across his leather-like, aged face. “might have to drop the whole resting bitch face.”

you’re fuming. the column of rage growing from your belly pangs with no place to go. “for you freaks?”

your outburst has fat joey huffing and puffing his way through the threshold of the door.

“everything, okay, boss?” the grunt looks from your red face to his relaxed leader. “sorry bout’ her. she shouldn’t be up here.”

negan waves a hand. “don’t worry about it, joey. i can handle her.”

joey nods when a “handle me?” is flying from your mouth and negan just shoots him a cheeky grin.

“let me walk you back down there, doll.” negan insists.

when he rises from his desk, you realize how he towers over you, something you’d never clocked despite how often you two had been in close quarters back at school. you’re glaring up to meet his dark eyes - the ones that glint in the light like he hadn’t subjected a young woman to the most gruesome death - not including her life after death.

“this way, you,” negan is shepherding you with a hand on your back and all you can do is grumble as you pass his lazy goon.

once the two of you are in the hallway, you slap his hand off of him. “don’t touch me,” you sneer.

he chuckles. “whatever you wish, princess, just stop interrupting me from my important shit with your emotional shit, ‘kay?”

you shake your head. “what would mrs. smith think of all this? surely you don’t think you’re in the right. your wife would’ve hated this.”

negan gestures to the empty, desolate stairwell the two of you are descending. “she look like she’s here?”

“doesn’t matter. what happened to your morals?” you spit, stopping in your tracks to turn and face the taller man, standing on a higher step so that you’re both at eye level. “you were a school teacher.”

“yeah, and you would’ve been dead if we hadn’t brought you in.”

“so i should be happy with the freak show you’re putting on here?”

the expressive leader throws his arms out to motion to the compound. “look around, it’s bread and circuses!” he says simply. “you work, you get a bed, and a safe place to live.” a devious expression overtakes his countenance. “and a show!”

“i hate it here.” you declare nastily.

he snorts. “you hate not being in control, and all the safe little assurances we had before. things are different now.”

“no,” you counter, face coming closer to his. “you’re different now.”

“gotta be to survive nowadays, darlin’, now hurry it up. you need to get back to stitchin’ up my men so they can go out and bring you back ravioli, morphine, soap, toilet paper, all that shit you’re bitchin’ about having.”

“you’re a psycho,” you huff at him as he ushers you down the stairs, another level, and the familiar way towards the infirmary.

“you’re just not adjusted yet. just stick to changing bedpans and we won’t have a problem,” negan instructs with a hand on your back again.

you brush him off once you two have entered the sterile, white infirmary where doctor carson is talking quietly with one of negan’s goons.

“what’s goin’ on here, doc?” negan questions, startling the two.

negan’s man is pale - and sweating buckets. the doctor stands from his bedside to face negan.

“hello, negan, we were just finishing up.”

“finishing up what?”

the pit in your stomach grows when you notice the sickly man on the bed scurrying to fold the fabric of his shirt back over his stomach. the doctor has a pokerface but you didn’t need them to answer to know what was going on.

“what’s goin’ on, dan? feelin’ alright?” negan doesn’t give the doctor a chance to answer before he’s next to his commissioned scavenger, towering over him now.

dan nods. “feelin’ fine. just scraped up and tired as hell after gettin’ back from carolina.”

“i bet!” that loud voice booms throughout the room. “mighty long trip that was. thanks again, man.” the clap to dan’s back from his leader almost has him buckling. “but you don’t look so good, bud. got something to tell me?”

“negan-,” the doctor starts but he’s quickly silenced by a simple raise of the leader’s hand.

“nope, doc. i wanna hear it from dan here.”

the man’s nervous eyes flicker from doctor carson and to you. you want to crumple where you stand. though his eyes are pleading, there’s nothing you can do. only manage your growing disgust as you watch negan reach for his sidearm.

then negan does something that surprises you, he leans down to embrace the man in a hug.

“thank you, it was just a long trip.” dan’s bumbling, but negan shushes him.

“don’t worry bout’ it, dan.”

that’s when the bullet departs the chamber and implants itself in dan’s brain.

the man who’d just been alive slumps down and falls onto the newly bloodied bedsheets. the white wall behind him is sprayed with brains and chrome. the salt and pepper haired leader stands from the bed and yawns, stretching as if he wasn’t leaving a mess of blood and trauma for you and the doctor to clean up and process.

“back to work. keep an eye on her, doc.”

“negan, you sick fuck.”

this time, negan’s holding his council and heatedly harping on gregory.

the man lets out an exasperated breath. “who the fuck wasn’t watching the door?”

his legion of doom is bewildered to see the sullen nurse standing in the doorway. dwight’s apathetic as always, but is the first to offer to escort you out while simon’s telling gregory to “shut the fuck up” and laura’s looking at you as if no one could be more annoying as to drag this meeting on.

“joey!”

one shout and you hear heavy footsteps thudding down the hall. breathing raggedly, the guard wraps himself around the doorway and drops his sandwich at the sight of you.

“so sorry, boss. she really sneaks in!”

the older man just shakes his head. “don’t let it happen again or gregory gets it.”

laughter erupts from the room. everyone at the table is dropping their dauntless demeanor as if on cue. the only one not laughing is gregory of course.

“negan, listen-,”

“ah!” negan interrupts him, straining against his leather jacket when he turns his body towards him. “you shut it! i hate having my shit interrupted, and i hate having supply drops interrupted far more than meetings.” he directs his attention from the man from hilltop back to you. “why don’t you just take a seat, honey? we’ll be done soon.”

you shake your head. “i’m not trying to stay here any longer than i have to. i need this sorted out now.”

“if you wanna talk, doll, you’ll have to wait your turn. i’m talking to gregory right now.”

“i don’t even want to talk to you.”

he exhales flippantly. “then why are you here? interrupting my important meeting.”

“i came for my shotgun.”

negan chuckles, crossing his arms. “you think you’re gettin’ that thing back? after the mood you’ve been stirring up here?”

you do your best to ignore the way he’s laughing and dismissing you or how he’s manspreading all over the chair he’s parked in.

“i need my stuff now. i’m leaving tonight.”

it’s like the air’s been sucked out of the room. you can see negan’s jaw tighten in real time, and the room stiffens. waiting for a reaction is half the angst but you don’t have time for it. don’t even want to defend your decision, especially in front of everyone here.

“out!”

chair legs scrape against the ground as some of negan’s senior partners in psychopathy begin to egress.

gregory is just looking flabbergasted. “but we had a meeting?”

“everyone, out. now!”

all it takes is a “negan doesn’t like to repeat himself” and dwight is shuffling gregory out of the room, simon taking up the rear.

“see you soon, hun’,” he taunts to you.

you don’t have enough time to process his words because he’s shutting the door behind you and probably mentally rescheduling this meeting. you could care less.

“enough, negan smith.” he blinks at the full name callout. “i want my stuff and i’ll be out of your hair. you won’t have to worry about me.”

negan’s off his feet again and sitting on top of the table now. he points to the chair next to the head. “sit.”

“i don’t want to sit.” you insist. “i already told you, i don’t want to talk, i want to go.”

“yeah, well we’re gonna talk first, so sit your ass down.”

you don’t want to spend anymore time in this nutjob factory than you have to but you want your shotgun back. so you walk across the room and you stand at the chair.

“what do you have to say to me?” you inquire.

“god, look at you!”

you roll your eyes.

“a few weeks after getting your life saved, getting your needs taken care of and you’re ready to go back to that?”

“i don’t want to be at your constant mercy.” you say plainly. “not that you can really call it mercy.”

with every retort from him being a laugh, your patience is growing thin. he snickers upon seeing your frown. “so, you want to take your chances out there instead of taking a little time to let me help figure out your problem?”

you throw up your hands. “figure out my problem? i came to you to help figure out my problem and you said to just deal with it. to ‘adjust’. well, i can’t. i can’t live like this. it’s not humane.”

“yeah, and it’s humane out there?”

“better than bitching in here.”

“well, i think i can help with that. won’t be getting your shotgun back.”

“oh, so you can’t help at all?” you snap.

he whistles. “never said that.” his eyes drop from your gaze down your torso to your thighs. he pats the table next to him. “come sit on the table.”

“no. i want to go. now.”

“alright then.”

“negan!”

you exclaim when he scootches off the table to scoop you up by your legs and middle and plop you down.

“let doctor negan see if he can help.”

“what are you-,”

“ah! look at that.”

“ah!”

the sudden sensation of a finger against your denim covered cunt has your face flushing and red. “been touched there in a while, honey?”

“just give me my shotgun,” you breathe, desperately trying with your eye contact to communicate that things aren’t going the way you expected.

“let me give you some reprieve, clear your head, and then we can see if you still want your shotgun.”

you shake your head as he starts pulling down your pants. “you think your wife would be okay with this?”

“she here?”

you curse yourself for giving him such an easy answer. you curse yourself for not doing anything other than pouting and wiggling once he’s at your waistband. you curse the little wet spot soaked though your underwear even more.

“god, i knew confrontation would get you wet.”

“so you planned this?”

the older man shakes his head, taking another moment to fully lock eyes with you, even as he towers over you on the table. “no, i’m thinking that we both walked into this.”

maybe you shouldn’t have walked in, you ponder as negan walks your undies down your thighs with his fingers and walks them right back to your dripping center. the hair you have down there is already slick, a damp curtain pried open by negan’s thick fingers.

“shit,” you rasp when a finger braves the pool of anticipation that’s only growing and delves further against your inner walls.

“want me stop there?” the fucker’s finger stills inside of you and the other dancing just above your clit comes to a halt.

you don’t respond, just lock eyes with negan and try to catch your breath. “that’s not fair,” you point out in a voice just above a whisper. “can’t stop now.”

“or can i?”

you shake your head. “don’t.”

maybe clearing the tension that’s been building like a twentieth century skyscraper inside of you will sort you out. or you could just say fuck it. the world’s ended anyways.

negan surely fucks a finger stationed inside of you back and forth. twisting and testing the waters before adding another. the extra finger curls inside you deliciously while he utilizes another to play around your clit.

the attention he’s paying to your once undisturbed nether regions is enough to have you creaking and moaning like an old door hinge and hinging forward into negan. he’s quick to let you fall forward into his arms. the sudden acceptance is all he needs to speed up.

“i know that feels good, honey.”

“mhmm,” you murmur into his shoulder.

there’s a spot inside of you that he’s massaging just right and another on your exterior; an x doesn’t need to mark the spot for him to rile up your clit. slow, lazy circles have you grinding against him on the table. how can you bemoan him when he’s about to pull the perfect release from you?

you know that because your breath is picking up again and you’re blubbering into his sturdy shoulder. those motions are telltale. mrs. smith’s memory hasn’t kept this man celibate.

the widower has his hand on your back again and the hand beneath you has its own task. the task at hand is executed with more skill than any boy you’d ever fooled around with in college or anyone who came after - not that there were many given how things had gone. you’d like to think that if shit hadn’t hit the fan, you would’ve settled down with someone like mr. smith but younger. this would have to do.

“clenchin’ so tight just around my fingers, baby. you always had the hots for me?”

you shake your head no truthfully. “this is the hots?”

“you feel hot down there baby, and my are you hot.” he lands the compliment with a kiss. you lean in, letting his tongue slip into your mouth because you’re too occupied with the build up brewing inside of you.

one glance down between you two and you see his fingers pumping. your heart rate jumps when you see the addition of another and now you’re being stretched out on his fingers on this table.

“god, you’re gorgeous. what a sweet little thing to have fallen into my lap.”

you curl further into his lap, legs now around him and his fingers knuckle deep inside of you. all he has to do is curl his fingers and you’re yowling. “mhm, they’re deep.” you say, brain just observing.

“too deep?”

“no.”

thus, they plunge further. until the extra finger on the outside is stirring up more than your slick and heat courses through you. you shudder against negan but that doesn’t stop his routine. the shape of his fingers change inside of you and you’re bucking against him to feel each one.

“fuck, i’m gonna come,” you don’t want to say it out loud but you do anyways.

“on my fingers?” negan sniggers. “you poor thing. c’mon now, i know it must’ve been a while.” he presses the pad of his thumb against your clit. “just let go, honey, it’ll help.”

and it does.

letting your lizard brain take the lead is all you need for your mind to go blank. if even for a second, it releases the anxiety and the anger that’d consumed you. you pulse and clamp down around his digits until suddenly he’s not moving at all but you’re rotating your hips against him.

riding out such a feeling, you blink the tears out of your eyes and do a double take once you notice negan removing his fingers and starting on his belt.

“what’re you doing?” you question, pussy still pulsing with a mind of its own.

“if you thought that helped you relax, this will put you to sleep. no more sleeping pills for you, darlin’.”

“how did you know about that?”

“doctor carson doesn’t keep secrets from me. he didn’t need to tell me you weren’t adjusting well either.” negan states matter-of-factly, then dropping his blue plaid boxers.

you’re not sure how you’re going to adjust to the sight you’re met with. the cock in front of you is larger than any you’ve ever seen before. if negan’s fingers had you losing it, this thing will ruin you.

“i don’t think it’s gonna fit,” you admit when his hands land on your hips.

the distance between your needy bare entrance and his thick dick is only inches now. you shudder at the longing that’s whipping you and your thoughts around. you moan when he slides his hard, veiny cock against your entrance, slapping it against you once for good measure.

“nope, you’re tougher than you think.”

you meet his eyes again as if to question him. sure, he feels good against you but this is next level. better than fiction but what would happen after you both got your orgasms out of the way?

there’s no time for you to speculate because his lips are on yours again and you feel him lining himself up against you. “you want me to fuck all those fears out of your head, honey? you wanna feel good?”

how can you say no to that?

one nod of your head and his tip is teasing you. it takes you telling him, “please, put it in. i want it,” and then he’s plunging inside.

your face scrunches as a little burn becomes prominent from his size, but he kisses the lines away from your face. your temple, your nose, your lips, your cheek, he’s kissing you, saying, “good girl. you’re doing fantastic.”

you just eat up the praise and look down to see your pussy devouring him whole. the first two or three inches were a struggle just from lack of use but your lack of pleasure - the near sexual deprivation you’d experienced since shit hit the fan - overcomes it, and is pleasantly fulfilled.

in and out of you, negan works his hips and you can’t be happier. could a man you’d branded a psycho just minutes before be so adept at addressing your pleasure?

seems like it.

“god, you fuck well for a gym teacher.”

negan won’t let the snide comment slide so he wraps up his tour of purple rain against your collarbone to simper at you. “yeah, and for a frigid bitch, this pussy is hot and ready.”

“maybe i’m one of those dumb girls who’s attracted to psychos and serial killers?” you ponder playfully and wrap your arms negan’s neck to pull him in closer.

“oh, i’m gonna fuck you dumb, honey, don’t worry.” and with a roll of his hips, you have no reason to worry he won’t live up to his words.

you whine when he suddenly rams into you. his girth juts along your tight, inner walls. you meet his gaze again and just looking at his smug face has you tightening around him.

“god, baby, did you just fuckin’ squeeze me?”

“can you adjust?”

he grunts. “can you?”

you don’t have time to ask what you could possibly have to adapt to next because negan’s turning you into your stomach onto the table, tossing his leather jacket down for you to bury your face into. his absence from between your thighs brings on another whine but one moment of motion and now you feel him flush against your back, filling you to the brink with his cock.

“yeah, bet that brain can’t even think about an escape plan with that dumb little pussy stuffed so full. you gonna’ be able to walk tomorrow, honey?” he asks you tenderly as if he’s not on the verge of taking out your cervix.

“ne-negan! sto-,”

“-stop what?” he gyrates his hips nice and slow into you, dragging on the sensitive insides of your poor, overstimulated little cunt. “stop fucking you? because the way your pussy is clampin’ down, i don’t even know how i’m backing out of here baby.”

“don’t!” you beg.

“what?” he leans down to take your chin in his hands and see the angsty, pleasure induced tear starting to roll down your cheek. “god, you even look pretty when you cry. fuckin’ face like that.”

hips are stammering and negan’s words burn straight through to your core. he moans like a motherfucker when he feels the squeeze of your clingy little core on him. haywire all of this had gone, and now your climax is taking you over the edge.

“negan, don’t stop. don’t stop. don’t be an asshole,” you’re pleading.

he’s back to spearing you on his cock, leveraging your hips and throwing his head back. “don’t think i could, baby. not with a pussy this fucking fantastic.”

the praise is what does you in for the second time. any thought of undead nurses or public floggings leaves your brain and all you’re left with is the molten hot pleasure exploding inside of you. negan’s hand drifts down to your clit to have you absolutely crushing his cock.

“god, doll, you’re fuckin’ tight. so fuckin’ hot when you come like that. gonna have me doing a fuckin’ one and done for now.”

the huskiness of his voice and the twitch of him against your walls only eggs you on. your eyes are shut tight but you he’s all you can imagine. head on top of his jacket, you breathe in his scent, musky with a hint of the same cologne he wore back at school, and you’re creaming around him.

“fuck, doll!”

and he’s shooting his cream inside of you. the warmth fills you up and you no longer have the energy to move. any gyration of your hips has halted. a few more thrusts and he’s in the same boat. he collapses atop you for just a moment before pulling out and padding towards the table against the wall laden with napkins and refreshments that were supposed to be for the meeting.

you don’t turn your head but you can hear him grabbing some paper towels off the roll and clutching some other things.

“just gonna wipe between your legs,” he instructs and you let him.

your forehead against the table and those pretty eyes squeezed shut has negan rethinking a thing or two. suddenly he’s regretting not fucking you like the sweet thing you are. you deserved better than a table - at least his soft, king sized mattress if not a cloud.

once he finishes, he pats your back and nudges you up where he’s waiting with a water bottle - already open with the cap off. you accept with no issue and gulp the mini-sized bottle down easily.

“listen, why don’t you have dinner with the girls and i tonight? i’m not gonna give you your shotgun back just yet, but might change your mind about some things.”

[luveline]

I am humbly requesting a steve zombie au where the reader gets hypothermia hehehe😌

ty for ur humble request babe ♡ steve zombie au —steve freaks when you show symptoms of hypothermia. fem!reader 2k

"Steve, I think there's something wrong." 

Steve raises his head to show he's listening, keeping his gaze on the map. You say it through shivers, sleeves pulled down over your makeshift mittens. "What's wrong, honey?"

He's noticed you aren't yourself today, and he thinks a soft tone is the least he can give you. The stupid map in his hand is tattered, creased down the middle from folding and unfolding. He thought getting to Michigan would be easy, walk in one direction and keep on, but you both need to eat and rest and the weather is too cold to go any further. He needs to find a residential, tonight. 

"I feel off. I'm tired and I…" Your mumbling drifts off. 

Steve shoves the map under his arm, "What? Tell me." 

"Cold," you say, slurred, offering your hands. "I can't feel my fingers." 

You're wearing socks over your hands, the best gloves Steve could offer. He takes them with a severe frown, unhappy when the cold of your skin permeates through. You're ice. 

"And you don't feel well?" he asks, feeling up your arm to your neck. 

Steve digs under the layers of your shirts, hoodie, coat, feeling for your pulse. It feels alarmingly slow. He'd never guess from looking at you how slow your heart is pumping. 

Steve doesn't know everything, but he knows you're not supposed to be this cold for this long. You shiver as his fingers warm your neck, a pained hum coming from the very back of your throat as he pulls you in for a hug. 

"Okay," he says, rubbing your back even though he knows it's pointless. "Don't worry. We can't stay outside anymore, huh?" 

Steve aches to have to drag you down road after road, stretches of streets littered with little protection to offer. The roadside stores here are rocked by the elements, windows smashed and ceilings caving in. You're stumbling by the time a crop of houses appear in the distance, lethargic. Steve thought it was bad that you were cold, of course, but this is a more primal fear. You're not cold, you're freezing, actively freezing. 

"You're okay," he says again, his gentlest reassurance. "Sweetheart, just a few more minutes. See that house, the big brown shutters? That's where we're going. Can you do it?" 

"I can do it," you murmur. 

"I know, but it's my turn to ask stupid questions." 

Dead trees line the street, a planter of flowers by the door turned to crisps. Steve props you against a beam of wood holding up the angled porch roof and opens the screen door. He tries the handle on the interior. It's locked, a good sign. 

He's admittedly feeling the adrenaline of your imminent demise. Furious with the world and circumstances and himself for letting this happen, Steve kicks the door down with three big kicks. The bang rings like a shot through the entire neighbourhood, he imagines, but there's no time to worry about it. 

"You have to–" little gasp, Steve's head hurts, "have to sweep the house," you say as he pulls you inside. 

If there's something in here, he has to risk it. Out of options. 

He's as softhanded as he can manage dropping you into a seemingly intact couch. The room appears untouched from whoever left it, rather plush, it's a room Steve would've liked to live in. 

He grabs your face. You meet his eyes, startled. 

"I'm going upstairs for blankets. If something happens, you yell for me as loudly as you can. You don't have to say anything, just scream. Seriously." 

"Yeah," you say breathlessly. The last street of walking and the few steps has exhausted you. 

"Don't sleep," he says severely. 

"No, I won't." 

Steve dumps his bag on the floor. He backtracks to the porch to grab yours and wedges the splintered door closed using your bag as a temporary stopper. 

You must be hypothermic, cold for days, too cold to sleep last night, and it's all Steve's fault. We can do it, he'd said, just another push. He hoped for better standing further out of Indiana. None of it will matter if you get sick. 

He spins to walk up the stairs, falls weak and rushes back into the living room to check on you. 

"Everything's okay," he says, taking your face again into his hands and kissing your forehead. It's purely selfish. 

You touch his elbow. "I know." 

Steve takes off his jacket and puts it over your lap. The house is vaguely warmer than outdoors but it's far from enough to make a difference to you. Heart in his throat, he bounds up the stairs and onto the landing, an L-shape with one bedroom straight in front and four doors on left. The smell of gore coming from the closed master bedroom explains how it could be this clean; it wasn't uncommon at the start of the apocalypse for people to lock themselves in, kill themselves and their families. He has no interest in seeing it, nor unleashing the mould spores that come with decomposition. Whatever blankets were in there are worthless now. 

He takes a left and opens the door with a slam. A teenage bedroom not unlike his own back home, a simple comforter on the bed. He grabs it and tosses it on the landing, dipping into the second room. Bathroom, nothing worth having. The third room is a utility room with a jackpot of folded sheets, towels, padded quilts, and a comforter rolled into a log. He throws everything onto the floor and forgets the fourth door, arms fit to burst with fabric as he descends back downstairs. 

"Steve?" you ask.

"Yep, yes. I'm here." He drops the blankets at your feet. "Are your clothes damp?" 

"I think… no." 

"I'd tell you to take off your jacket," he begins, shaking the biggest comforter out over you as he talks, "but I want as many layers as possible. Come here, sweetheart. Lift your back a little." He tucks you in like a pastry. "Good. Good, thank you, sweetheart." 

"You're being very nice," you mumble, your eyelashes twitching like you've dimes weighing down your eyelids. 

"I'm always nice." 

"No," you say, your head falling back into the couch cushions. It's a family couch made of soft fabrics, not the showy leather piece you'd expect in such a mammoth lodging. "You're okay, though." 

Steve piles blankets on top of you. The cold is eating at him too, his nose stiff, his hair standing on end as gooseflesh ripples over his arms. 

When you've been sufficiently sandwiched, he feels your face again. You're already warmer, his hand creeping down into your shirt to feel for your pulse. Ropey. 

"Sweetheart, I need you to try and perk up," he says, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. 

"Not feeling perky." 

"Ah, but you're always perky. You're my sun, 'cos I'm so awful," he says, panic lining his plea. "You are. I'm going to make you something hot to eat." 

"Hot air?" you ask, slinking further down into your hump of sheets. 

"I think we might be in luck." 

He speaks too soon, really. The cupboards are lackluster. The can of soup he'd been hoping to find doesn't materialise. But there's a small can of ravioli, enough salted fish to make any tom cat happy, and a jug of water beneath the sink. He looks at it and sighs in relief. You have two litres of rainwater in your bag, and that had been the rations. This is one less thing to worry about. 

Steve makes sure that there kitchen door and the patio doors in the lonely dining room are locked, taking a big cooking pot from the pantry (depressingly empty bar a bag of sugar spilled on its side and a sack of grain) and a saucepan from atop the stove. He checks the gass but he's never that lucky, resigning himself to a typical campfire when it doesn't work. 

"Steve, put it back on," you say as he comes back in, your eyes a little wider, slightly more alert. You've pulled your arms out from under the blankets, with his jacket in your hands. 

Steve has kissed you before. You haven't talked about it out loud —he'd like to think a lot has been said in hand-holding, in spooning, and in you hand carding through his hair. He's eager to kiss you again, dumping his findings to hold your wrists. "Thank you," he says, kissing you clumsily, your lips cold. "Now put your arms in. I'll pull the blankets up." 

"Can you kiss me again?" 

"I'm trying to make you some hot water." 

"I'm warm enough already. Please?" 

Steve kisses you again. This time, he closes his eyes, puts his hand against your jaw. The sound of your lips pressing to his seems loud in the quiet. 

He pulls away with a final peck. "Are you feeling warmer?" 

You blow breath up your face. "Bet so." 

Steve rolls his eyes and turns away to make a campfire in the stolen pot. He'll boil some water in the saucepan for you to hold like a risky hot water bottle, and make some warmed ravioli. It'll be sweet. And tomorrow, if you're feeling better, he'll scavenge for supplies in the neighbourhood. Tonight, he'll burn the kitchen chairs. They don't need them anymore. 

"Settle in," he says, opening his backpack for the fire starters and matches. "We'll stay for a while, okay?" 

"Yeah, okay. Sorry for the fuss." 

"Are you kidding?" He can't look at you. He'll probably cry. "It's cold. You were cold, and we didn't– I knew your coat wasn't good enough but I just thought… well, it's my fault. It is. And I– I care about you so much," —he says it in a rush, true but unused to admitting his feelings to you or anyone— "I can't do this without you. I'll take better care of you, I swear. It won't happen again." 

"You know what would really warm me up?" you ask. 

Steve turns on his heel. "Let me make you something to eat." 

"Not hungry, just cold." 

Steve tamps down a giddy smile into one more respectable. "Let me feel your pulse," he relents, lifting the heavy layer of blankets to climb inside. Its roasting, the warmest he's felt in weeks, and your arm is alive as he slides into your side. 

He puts his hand against your neck, waiting for a steady bump. 

"Am I cured?" you ask. 

Steve sighs in relief. "You're cured." 

You wrap your arms around him. Life with you and in this situation is an endless rise and fall. Something shitty happens, you scrape by, and, as a victory, he gets to hug you in the end. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" Steve asks. 

"You just said I was cured, Steve," you mumble, digging your face into his shoulder. "Just. Stay here. Keep feeling me up." 

"Not what I'm doing." 

[rallamajoop]

A needlessly detailed analysis of Heisenberg's Conspiracy Board

One of the random details I was most eager to find in the RE8 game assets was Heisenberg's conspiracy board. (It's labeled 'strategy board' in the game files, but I think we all know what we're looking at here.)

The assets consisted of a base layer (below) with separate higher-res photos of Chris, Mia, Rose (with Ethan!) and the other three lords (clean versions of those last three, plus Heisenberg, can be found over here). The actual model is more 3-dimensional than you might think, with many of the photos displayed as separate 'flaps' that stick out from the base board (which does unfortunately make stitching together higher-res screencaps of the full board very difficult).

There are a few reasons why I wanted better pics of the board, but a real big one was catching an in-game glimpse of this one smaller photo on the upper right of some guy in sunglasses and going, wait, is that Wesker?

Having extracted the highest-res version of that photo possible... well, for that to be Wesker, he'd have to have come back to life and aged about 20 years. Which wouldn't entirely be out of character (he's come back from the dead at least once already, and even Chris is looking his age these days) but is really that who it's supposed to be? IDEK, and neither does this one Reddit thread I found discussing the same question.

There are a few other human-faces around the board ‒ mostly some mustachioed dude(s?) ‒ some of them entirely hidden under other photos on the finished board, but none I recognise. Presumably they're meant to be folks who are/were involved with Miranda or other bio-weapons research, past or present, and maybe they're characters set to appear in some future RE installment. But they may just be stock photos, thrown in to fill space.

But having finally posted this thing and come back to it again this morning, I'm looking at that one larger guy in one of those photos and going, wait, isn't that the Duke?

Goddamn, it is, isn't it? You can even see the lapels of his jacket and the curve of the wagon roof over his head. How did I miss that? XD No prizes for guessing why Heisenberg might think he's worth including on a conspiracy board!

Most of the rest of the board is covered with photos of various monstrous bio-weapons. Again, this is probably meant to represent a mix of Miranda's work and that of other bio-weapons manufacturers. Someone more familiar with extended Resi-canon than I am might even be able to identify some of these creatures, but none were immediately familiar to me.

Even the one zombie face below that looks almost exactly like a screencap from that first iconic zombie-reveal-scene from the very first Resident Evil turned out not to be (and yes, I checked both the original version and the remake), though it may still be meant to evoke that moment. The photo behind it, meanwhile, looks to be just a pair of soldats.

The other big 'notice me!' feature is, of course, the big map with 'BSAA Come!!' scribbled on it. The circled target location is the ceremony site, identifiable by the four huge statues, and the date at the bottom (February 10, 2020) is the date of Miranda's planned ceremony (tomorrow morning).

Presumably, this is supposed to be a map the BSAA themselves prepared for troop briefings, but no-one's going to get much out of trying to take this thing too literally. Realistically, the only reason "BSAA Come!!" is written in such big letters here is to let the player know at a glance that Heisenberg is clued in enough to be expecting a BSAA assault.

That's about it for really obvious features. There's not a lot else here that the casual viewer is likely to recognise or find particularly significant. But I'm way past 'casual' in over-analysing this damn game, and I can point out a dozen other features on this board that might (or might not) be awash with implications about all the juicy intel Heisenberg's got his hands on.

Basically, it's time to play my favourite game: Cheaply Reused Asset or Significant Callback?

See, much as I'd love for every last detail on this board to be dense with important lore, the reality is that the player gets barely a few seconds to look at this thing in-game, and so most of what's on it was probably thrown together in a hurry by some overworked member of the asset team without much thought. And nothing demonstrates this better than the fact that two different photo clusters (circled below) from the right edge of the board are duplicated wholesale as you move left across the board.

Someone's just copy-pasted these in their entirety, slightly reduced them in size, and assumed no-one would notice. The asset team is only human, and believes in working smarter not harder as much as anyone.

Then there's the fact that a number of other assets you can find on this board are actually posters advertising fishing equipment, which you can find around the reservoir, near where you pick up the boat key.

Why would Heisenberg include these on his conspiracy board? There's no good reason, they're just a convenient assets to fill in some space.

And then there's my all-time favourite random detail on this board ‒ a completely random photo of a bottle of Dulvey Beer, two bags of Half-Whole flour, and a carton of orange juice.

Now, maybe somewhere in these games, you can find these exact items arranged in this position next to never-before-found coded clue to the future of the series! But more likely, this is just the asset team making an inside-joke about asset recycling, using a picture of some of the most oft-reused assets in the game, on a board that's already covered in reused assets from elsewhere. (Look, I thought it was funny, even if no-one else looking at the board is going to get it.)

So, yeah, a lot of what's on this board means nothing, except that whoever made it had limited time and a lot of space to fill. And That's Okay.

But then we get to the stuff where I do really wanna believe its inclusion means something. For one, the board contains copies of both the mission briefing Chris' team is carrying when they abduct Ethan (the one you find by the overtuned truck), and Rose's BSAA-headered medical checkup report.

I already have this whole theory that that same medical report being leaked to Miranda might just be a major unsung catalyst for how she realised Rose's potential, and thus set all the events of the game in motion. So finding that the same report has made it's way onto Heisenberg's conspiracy board is a lovely bit of potential validation. Similarly, the implication that Heisenberg might have known about Chris' mission to Ethan's home before it even happened has some tantalising implications (or maybe he just found it out by the van where Ethan left it).

Rose's medical report isn't the only BSAA-headered document on the board either ‒ there's another on the top right (outlined in yellow) that doesn't correspond to any in-game asset I can find (presumably it wasn't actually needed for whatever it was created for). There's plenty elsewhere in this game to suggest Miranda has contacts in the BSAA feeding her all their secrets ‒ and whether Heisenberg got these reports from Miranda or independently, the fact he's got them at all suggests one hell of an info-leak.

Speaking of Miranda, you can find a couple of copies of some of her own research notes on Heisenberg's board ‒ this is the same asset used in her lab under the graveyard, where you can find notes about her experiments on 'Alcina D'. So that's another interesting file that it makes total sense Heisenberg might include on his board.

The board also includes a couple of extracts from that issue of The Dulvey Daily from Ethan's home, with the article about the closing of the Baker investigation. Realistically, this is likely to be another case of a random asset being used without much thought, but it does make sense that Heisenberg would have followed that investigation (and I can't help but loved that Heisenberg felt the Horn of Plenty article was worth including in his vast conspiracy-network ‒ I told you they were shady!)

You can find bits of a couple of Heisenberg's own Soldat-x-rays on the board too. Doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but they do look nicely sinister, so onto the board they go! (In multiple places again)

That's about it for assets I could identify. However, there are also a few photos from around the village itself on the board ‒ two of which were evidently screenshots taken from Ethan's own point of view, given that his gun is clearly visible in the bottom left of the screen in customary position. Objectively, this makes no sense, but it sure does add to that "someone's been watching you" atmosphere that any good conspiracy board should aspire to.

(I also feel like I should totally be recognising that doorway in the photo about the 'o' in 'mother', but can't place it.)

And for one final, bizarre detail, you may notice this weird photo of someone's feet appears in a few places on the board. And it's definitely the same photo ‒ the details line up perfectly, right down to the pin and that bit of string. But for some reason, someone's added a lace skirt to the feet in the example on the left.

You can't even see that skirt in the finished board (it's under Miranda's picture), but it amused me nonetheless.

Before we finish, have a few more close-ups on some of the other weird photos you can find on the board.

So, what conclusions can we draw here? There's a ton of detail on Heisenberg's conspiracy board to suggest he (or perhaps Miranda) has access to files from the BSAA and whoever Chris is now working with/for, that he's researched what happened at Dulvey and has certainly helped himself to Miranda's own files, if you'd like to read significance into what was included on the board. But there's also a ton of complete nonsense, so, you know, pretty much just RE lore operating as per usual.

I hope you've all enjoyed my little descent-into-madness while picking this thing apart.

[shepherds-of-haven]

Happy New Year, everyone! I thought it would be fun to do a little retrospective on the game's progress over the last year... Shepherds of Haven has grown so much from the little demo I posted in January 2018, and it continues to steadily build and flourish in so many different and exciting ways! Here's a look at just some of the things we accomplished in 2023!

I added 143,151 words to the game (2.5 main chapters, 8 new character interludes) in 2023: the equivalent of writing the longest Lord of the Rings book in one year! We also broke our huge 1 million word milestone—without including code—meaning Shepherds of Haven is now officially twice as long as War and Peace, and almost as long as the entire 7-book Harry Potter series... and all in a single game!

A lot goes into game creation behind the scenes, including the coordination and creation of visual assets for the game—like character cards, codex entries, maps, portraits, and backgrounds—fun stuff for the fans (like the MC info template we created), and songs for the official soundtrack. As the game creeps slowly and determinedly towards its initial completion, that also means learning new things as a solo developer to prepare for the future, like learning to build an official website, researching business and tax practices, and beginning to think about how to conduct testing, publishing, and marketing down the road. Much of what I enumerate here hasn't been made public yet and will continue to cook in the background for a while, but I'm very proud of the work I've gotten done this year and will be excited to unveil more in the future!

And of course, for even more Shepherds of Haven content, I've added and completed even more stories for our little library on Patreon (which also has sizable word count at this point): The Bridge of Bones (a Trouble and Riel murder mystery), O Happy Dagger (a dark adventure featuring Briony, Chase, and Red), and The Hunt (a wild tale involving Tallys, Halek, Shery, and new kinds of spirits, fey magic, and Elves) were all serial stories completed in 2023, while Some Kind of Virus is a cyberpunk zombie apocalypse AU that will continue to be updated with new chapters monthly.

A full list of the Shepherd short stories and serial novellas (with links) can be viewed here!

I hope you enjoyed this session of Shepherds of Haven Wrapped! Honestly, this doesn't actually cover everything I've been working on, but some things can't be packaged and listed out neatly, or otherwise won't seem very interesting to anyone else but me! 😂 As we inch through Chapter 9 and get more interludes done (only a few more main chapters to go), I'm hopeful that I'll also be able to find time to work on my next novel, but we'll see if the Shepherds schedule ends up ramping up or settling down as we work steadily towards finishing the main story!

One important thing before wrapping up is to acknowledge your guys' role in this wonderful, wild journey. I want to express my heartfelt gratitude to each and every one of you for your invaluable contributions to the development of Shepherds of Haven. Whether you took the time to share links to the game, supported its growth on Discord or Patreon, left encouraging messages or asked interesting questions, reported bugs, or showcased your remarkable works of fanfiction or fanart, I am sincerely thankful for the unwavering support from this amazing community! Your collective efforts have played a pivotal role in shaping the world of the game into what it is today. Words cannot adequately convey my gratitude for your support, and I am truly blessed to have such a passionate community surrounding this project.

As we step into 2024, I am filled with anticipation for the developments awaiting Shepherds of Haven. Big things are on the horizon, and I am so excited to share these experiences with you! Thank you for being an integral part of this journey, and here's to the continued growth of our shared little world. Cheers to 2024—may it be a year filled with creativity, adventure, and joy! 🎊

[ickyarson777]

Ooooh requests! I have one! I am dying for gamer boyfriend iii. Maybe playing games with him? Or just snuggling up with him, playing with his hair, while he slaughters digital zombies? XD Whatever you think!

GODS YES PLEASE

ahem anyway, of course love i can definitely do that for you! and thanks for the request! i hope it lives up to your expectations!!

content warnings: none!! just fluff and games today. tried to stay as gn with the reader as i could. only things used for them is 'love,' and 'lovely.'

notes before we start, this is about *not* about the actual people in the band, just the characters they’ve created on stage.

that being said, here you go! it's a bit short, wish it was longer but this was fun to write :)

Word count: 843

I curled up in bed, scrolling mindlessly through my phone, glancing every now and then at III, back facing me as he played his game. Since he’d downloaded Skyrim, he’d been playing it every chance he got. He talked a lot while playing, so I now had my own fair share of knowledge about the game.

“These damned draugr,” he’d mutter every now and then. “Fuck, dragon’s gonna eat my ass!” he’d groan as his character got snatched up. 

He was never one to scream angrily while playing, something I appreciated. He would, however, get very worked up, shaking me around and celebrating when he finally would pass a section of the game that was giving him trouble.

He’d lean over, ask if I saw how many times he’d died trying to pass that specific section, I’d tell him, laughing, ‘yes, I did see you die over and over, you sure you didn’t do it on purpose?’ He’d gasp in mock offense, ‘Seriously love? You think I’d willingly get fucked over by that shit over and over like that?’ then he’d lean in for a kiss, something to make up for the lack of focus on me, and get right back in. 

Tonight however, we played together. He’d recently bought a Nintendo Switch, and we’d spent the past couple nights staying up playing Mario Kart. We sat next to each other, leaning forward on our knees, deeply focused on the race. I’d hit him with a shell, he’d throw a banana peel. Each time I overtook him, or vice versa, the other would cry out in both frustration, laughter, or an attempt to rile the other up. Eventually after we’d played for a few hours, we’d lose count of the score and take a break to go get some snacks from the kitchen. After making our way back to the room, arms full of snacks and drinks, we’d lay back in the bed and he’d talk my ears off about anything and everything he could think of. 

“There’s a new Zelda game that came out, a sequel to Breath of the Wild! Supposed to have two whole new maps and shit,” he’d tell me, running his fingers through his long hair. “Can’t wait to play it.” 

I smile at him and yawn softly. 

“Getting tired, love? Or tired of losing Mario Kart,” he said with a stupid smirk. 

I scoff at his question, “You’d like to think I was losing wouldn’t you?”

He chuckles at me, “Of course I think that, ‘cause it's the truth.”

“Whatever,” I say , rolling my eyes. I lean back in the bed and slip under the covers. “Think I’m done for the night.”

He sighs dramatically, “Guess we’ll have to settle our score tomorrow then.”

“Mhmm,” I hum in agreement. I watch him as he picks the controller up again, and closes the game. He turns the tv down a bit, and opens Skyrim again. I watch through eyes fluttering, trying to stay awake a bit longer as he begins his in-game trek across the map, trying to reach new locations, every now and then stopping to fight some monster, creature or enemy in his path. Carefully, I nudge him with my foot and he glances back at me. 

“What’s up, love?” he asks.

I hold my arms out to him, wanting to cuddle up to him. He smiles at my gesture and crawls across the bed, leaning back against me, head on my chest, still facing the screen. I kiss the top of his head, and run my fingers through his hair, and listen to him talk. He’s always so loud, but now he mutters queitly to himself, perhaps trying to mind my tiredness, perhaps feeling his own tiredness start to take over. 

“Love you,” I murmur sleepily into his mess of red hair. 

“Love you too, lovely,” he mutters and then exclaims loudly, “Motherfucking dragons!”

“III,” I groan, having been snapped out of my almost sleep. 

He chuckles, “Sorry love.”

I smile, taking strands of his hair and braiding them carefully. “It’s ok,” I tell him. “What are you doing in the game?”

And then it begins again, his nonstop talk about the game. Eventually his accent gets thicker with sleep creeping into his voice, and I have no idea what he’s saying anymore. I drift off into my own slumber.

At some point, he’s gotten off the game and shifted to lie next to me, because the next morning, I wake up to him, arms lazily wrapped around me, mouth hanging wide open, soft snores excaping his mouth. I smile at his goofy expression, his messy hair tangles and spread over his pillow, over his face. The quiet moments with III are rare. Odd but not uncomfortable. 

I curl up next to him, and drift off to sleep again, knowing the moment we both wake up, its back to the games again.

‘Gonna need my rest if I’m gonna beat his ass at Mario Kart,’ is the last thing I think before drifting off again. 

---

how do you end stuff like this :')

anyway pls y'all give me more

[i-only-ever-asked-questions]

Map of Soho Good Omens Season 2 - Part 3 (the intersecting street)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 Update: Map and pictures further down now have Lucky Snake, and the description of both the Lucky Snake and The Chinese Buffet Restaurant have been updated too.

We don't know the name of the street that crosses Whickber Street. It starts between the market and the furniture store, and after a crooked crossing of Whickber St., it continues between the bookshop and the Dirty Donkey Pub until it ends on Wardour Street. On that upper block we have: -A. Z. Fell & Co. The bookshop has a backdoor that leads to this street. -Bilton Scaggs Hats and Caps This shop has been here for centuries. Originally Bilton and Scaggs was a publishing firm that printed among other things "The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, witch." Neil believes they went out of business in the late 19th century and the hat makers took over. Their shop was called Bilton and Scaggs Milliner & Haberdasher for a while and eventually they changed to Bilton Scaggs Hats and Caps. But honestly, only Aziraphale knows the whole story.

On the other side of the street we have: -The Dirty Donkey We don't know how long this pub has been in business, but we know that it was already there in the 40's when the zombies used it to hide and spy on the heroes. And then in 1967 Crowley used a private room to set up the caper to steal holy water from a church. The set was also used to set up two of the pubs where Gabriel and Beelzebub met. Both scenes were filmed on the same day! After the tour, the first episode of Season 2 was screened inside the pub for those lucky enough to win spots. The Dirty Donkey Pub has also appeared in Neil's "We Can Get Them for You Wholesale" and "Sandman: Overture." In the show, one of the elevators to Heaven and Hell opens inside the Dirty Donkey, maybe this supernatural ability allows it to show up in many different Neilverses ;) -"Model" This is Mrs. Sandwich mysterious establishment. Nobody really knows what happens there. We know the upper floor has lovely pink curtains, presumably for her girls who also love coffee. -Will Goldstone's Magic Shop Named after Will Goldston (not sure why an extra "e"), a stage magician who wrote many books on magic. The store existed in 1941 when it was run by Pat (who met a gruesome end at the hands of zombie nazis). Will Goldston himself died in 1948. So, was he the owner of the store and Pat just an employee? Did someone use his name? Or is that the reason behind the additional "e", to claim it wasn't him? We don't know. In current times it is operated by Mutt.

This street ends on Waldour Street and because we don't see much of it, I included those shops in this post: -Chinese Buffet Restaurant (updated) The English sign just says "Chinese Restaurant", Google translate gave me "Chinese Buffet Restaurant" for the sign on either side (if you look closely both sides say the same thing). There is no other writing that I could see so I would say that we don't know if it has another name or where is it written (inside maybe?). @embracing-the-ineffable raised the question of how do we know Mr. and Ms. Cheng own the restaurant. The truth is that we don't know for sure. We have assumed it probably because Aziraphale and Ms. Cheng are in front of the restaurant when he invites her to the meeting, but for all we know she was just walking on the street when they met. The Chengs could easily own the Herbal Pharmacy or the Grocery Store. We just don't know for sure -Lucky Snake (updated) To the right of the restaurant (our left) there is another store with yellow walls and red lanterns. It was brought to my attention (thank you!) that this is the infamous Lucky Snake we see in Aziraphale's typed list of shops. In Season 1 it was called "Oriental Delights" but this season it is a grocery store. -Herbal Medicine and Pharmacy - Traditional Chinese medicine appointments To the left of the restaurant (our right) we have the herbalist/pharmacy. This is written in English while "traditional medicine appointments" is written in Chinese. There is no other name outside either.

Turning around and looking towards Whickber Street, we can get a peek all the way to Great Windmill Street, between the news agency and the market. -Windmill Theatre Today it is called Windmill Soho but the name Windmill Theatre is equally recognizable. In 1941 it was owned by Mrs. Laura Henderson. The theatre was famous for 1)not closing at all, even during the heaviest of bombings and 2)its motionless nude girls (tableaux vivants) called the "Windmill Girls". Because of this, it used the motto "We Never Closed" (although people modified to "We Never Clothed"). In the set, the doors are not props, they are the real doors to the internal docks of the studio, which honestly it is very clever.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

[puddleorganism]

Pondering a new rancher au (yes the giant fucking bird is Jimmy) - rambling/explanation under the cut

[Image IDs:

ID 1: a digital drawing of Jimmy/SolidarityGaming and TangoTek, in which Jimmy is a massive approximately 20 foot/6 meter tall bird-like creature. He’s standing idly (to show off his design) with a nervous smile on his face. He has a long neck and long legs that make him look like a dinosaur, but he is covered in light golden-brown feathers and has wings. His wings are huge, the primaries/tips sticking out behind his back. They’re modeled after a turkey vulture’s wings. He’s got a grey hooked beak that is mostly covered in feathers. He’s also got long tail feathers that look just short of skimming the ground. His legs are dark grey with huge talons. All over his legs, wing tips, and tail feathers is a dark grey ash. Tango’s sitting cross-legged on his back/shoulders, hunched over and looking at one of those map books you usually have in your car. (Note: the next image is of Tango, so to avoid redundancy I’m going to describe his appearance better there.) /End ID 1

ID 2: a digital drawing of TangoTek, a humanoid with fire for hair and a long, thin tail tipped in fire; like how a lion’s is tipped with fur. He’s standing idly (again, to show off his design) with his hands in his pockets. He’s got light tan skin with freckles on his nose and wrist. He’s got what look to be black scales on his ears - which are long and pointed - cheeks and nose that have glowing orange cracks in them like burning wood. He’s wearing a red handkerchief over his nose and mouth and has red-tinted goggled pushed up on his forehead. He’s wearing an off-white sweater, a worn leather jacket with red accents, grey cargo pants and black boots. He also has a pale gold and brown messenger bag slung over his left (the viewer’s right) shoulder and back behind his arm. He’s also got two scuffed, worn pins on his jacket; a small, round yellow one and a tiny polyamory flag. He’s also covered in ash - even more so than Jimmy - to the point where his boots, sweater, and handkerchief are stained with it, and are almost more grey than their original colors.

ID 3: simple digital sketches of the above characters. From left to right they are: Jimmy laying down with his head bowed, and Tango standing on his tiptoes to lean against Jimmy’s head. Both their eyes are closed and their foreheads are pressed together. The next is of Tango with his goggles on and looking confused at the map book, which is folded in half in his hands. Jimmy is leaning over his shoulder to look at the map as well. Two question marks float by Tango’s head. The last is of Jimmy standing upright, one of his talons held up near his chest. In his talons he’s holding Tango who seems surprised and is kind of doing that thing that cats do when you pick them up under the arms. This sketch is captioned with the word “hold”. There’s also a small bit of wing from a drawing that’s been cropped out in the corner. /End ID 3

/End IDs]

Ok rambling time!

So it’s set in a that was similar to the modern day, but after in a post-apocalyptic world (recent enough that they both would’ve known the world before). Not a zombie apocalypse or anything, though. There may be Foes but probably not.

I’m not exactly sure what the apocalypse that happened actually is yet, but it’s left the world an ash-covered wasteland with few ruins and even fewer survivors (survivors being organisms in general, not just humans). I want the landscape to be kind of surreal and bizarre, but I haven’t decided if that’s because of the apocalypse or not. Maybe it was just Like That lol.

Anyway, one thing you may want to know more about, is why the hell is Jimmy a giant bird? And the answer is: I like giant birds. In all seriousness though, he’s cursed! Don’t know why. He was a normal ass dude. Now he’s a bird.

Tango might also be cursed? Depends on how edgy I end up wanting this to be lol. He might be an undead wraith or something who knows.

[p1nkshield]

Greetings and welcome to Chapter Seven!

Bruce kept checking and rechecking the security footage. One moment his son and the surprise guest were talking in the cave and the next a rift opens up pulling them both through.

“Hn”

Not good.

“Barbara.”

Bruce decided to call in the big guns on this one.

“Hello Bruce, I would say it’s nice to hear from you but considering this is the emergency line I'm concerned. What’s up?"

"Jason is missing."

Bruce let words fall out of his mouth quickly. He didn’t want to make his worries so apparent. He didn’t want to lose his composure. Losing his composure could cause mistakes in his detective work.

Bruce could hear the first few questions that Barbara posed.

"What do mean he's missing? Like he's left the manor? I can try to track him if you want."

Bruce nodded.

Of course he put an inter-dimensional tracker into the comms he gave to all of his children. This was exactly why.

Bruce rechecked the security footage.

For once Jason was actually wearing his.

good.

All the while Barbara was entering something into the computer on her end.

"I'm not getting anything for Jason's location..."

Bruce was truly concerned now.

He needed a lead to latch onto. Something he can focus on to keep his mind from wandering to extreme conclusions. Bruce then reviewed the audio recording from his cameras.

"Take us to Frostbite!"

"Wait!"

Frostbite? Was that a place or a person? Where have they gone that his tracker was out of range? Was it out of range or was it broken?

"You called me before listening to the audio from the security cam?"

"..."

Barbara decided not to press the matter.

"We have a lead, but I'm not really equipped to follow it. The only thing coming up for "Frostbite" is the medical condition and Icicle Jr.'s really sub par band"

Bruce's worry mixed with reluctance.

"Constantine."

"What is this now! Two calls from spooky the bat this year? I'm just tapping my toes with joy. What cataclysmic event do you have for me?"

Jason felt as though he had accidentally caught Superman's cape with his grappling hook.

He wrenched his eyes shut as he hurtled through space via map. Danny on the other hand was enjoying every moment of the journey, grinning as they flew to their destination.

Jason found himself face down among ice, snow and glaciers.

"Great One! It is good to see you, and you've returned the infinimap! You are truly full of surprises."

Jason managed to dislodge his face from the snow bank in time to see Danny being clapped jovially on the back by an eight foot tall yeti.

He could only blink.

"Who is this new guest you've brought with you?"

Jason was then scruffed like a kitten, placed on his feet and had the snow gently dusted off of his head by an eight foot tall yeti.

"That's Jason. He's cool, I promise. I was wondering if you could give us both a check up though. If you haven’t noticed yet he doesn't have a core yet and I'm tinier than usual."

Frostbite looked appraisingly between both Danny and Jason.

"And here I was about to applaud you on finally mastering shapeshifting! No matter, a friend to the savior of the infinite realms is a friend of mine. Follow me! You both shall receive the best care we can offer!"

Jason shuffled through the snow, following an eight foot tall yeti.

Said eight foot tall yeti managed to make Jason feel surprisingly comfortable in his presence. That is until he came to his diagnosis.

"Let me get this straight. I'm basically an infant, I’m ectoplasmicly malnourished, and I will eventually have powers?"

"Essentially, yes."

Danny snickered from a distance.

Jason really missed being a regular old zombie.

"What if I told you that I do not believe you?"

Frostbite mirthfully chuckled.

"If that were true I would ask you why you survived drinking ectoplasm."

Jason conceded.

"Ya got me there."

"That I do!"

Frostbite then addressed Danny

"Great One, I must admit this is not the safest place for either of you to heal and grow respectively. It has come to my attention that your parents are accepting payment in order for a certain Organization to have access to the portal."

Danny quietly processed the information, looking far too profoundly tired than any child should.

"How can I help?"

Frostbite carried two large tanks into the center of the room.

"Rest, heal and allow yourself to delegate tasks amongst your subjects."

Frostbite then knelt down to Danny's level and placed a large paw on his shoulder.

"We will be fine here Danny."

He then got up and lifted the two tanks.

"You both need to have a good supply of ectoplasm where you are staying. I think one of these will be enough for both you to reach a point where your cores are properly formed or reformed."

Frostbite carried the two tanks to out to the second most interesting individual Jason has met today.

"Wulf!"

Danny apparently knew this werewolf enough to greet him happily.

"Wulf, if you would be so inclined, can you open a portal to the dimension this young man is from?"

This Wulf as Jason has now gleaned sniffed him aggressively then nodded.

This is totally normal and fine.

Wulf then used his claws and ripped a portal out of thin air into the batcave.

Great.

Danny traipsed through the portal as if it was a door. Jason decided to help Frostbite push the tanks through the portal to feel some semblance of knowing what is happening.

Frostbite left them with well wishes as the portal closed.

Jason tried his best to wipe the bewildered look off his face when he realized the batcave was currently occupied.

Bruce had apparently started an entire search party with the rest of his family.

Tim had his detective wall of documents all pinned up.

Damian was arguing about the placement of the string.

Dick was pacing a few yards away from the wall.

Bruce was about to get carpal tunnel with the speed at which he was typing, his monitor was split between a database and a call with Constantine.

That is until the scraping of large metal tanks stopped them all in their tracks.

Jason waved.

"Hey"

He was immediately tackled by his older brother and squeezed into a hug.

"You can't scare us like that Jace!"

Bruce hung up on Constantine and walked towards him.

"Sorry I spooked you I didn’t really have time to leave a note-"

Interrupted, Jason and Dick by proxy was swept into a hug by Bruce.

Bruce let go.

"Let me know before you travel extra dimensionally."

He then left.

Dick had yet to let go, continuing his fretting.

"You just disappeared! None of use could find you! Never ever do that to me again. I swear you’re going to make me go bald with stress! Do you want me to look like Lex?"

Jason managed to get out of the vice grip Dick had on him.

"I'm sorry, okay? I go to the ghost doctor once and everyone thinks I've been kidnaped!"

Tim piped up

"To be fair it did look a lot like you got kidnaped by an inter dimensional map"

Dick managed to look even more worried.

"What do you mean a ghost doctor!?"

Jason shrugged.

"Exactly what I said. Found out I'm a baby ghost."

"A baby half ghost! Wellcome to the club, you are one of very few halfas in existence."

Jason took that information in

"What he said."

@shinyladykingdom @kyrianclawraith @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff @darkhinauniverse @krzys2000 @coruscateselene @kjoboo91 @vythika96 @hydralusus @addie-lover-of-stories @skulld3mort-1fan

Also I don't want to flood people's notifs with my silly little fanfic so if you want me to continue to tag you let me know! Also sometimes I can't find the blog people ask me to tag them with so if you asked to be tagged and weren’t it wasn’t on purpose!

[bumblingbee1]

🧟 Call Of Duty Zombies ask game 🧟

1) What game introduced you to Call Of Duty Zombies? (non-Treyarch games included) Do you remember the first ever map you played?

2) Favorite map(s)?

3) Least favorite map(s)?

4) What's a map that many seem to enjoy, but you don't?

5) What maps do you think are getting slept on too much/not talked about enough?

6) Favorite COD Zombies quartet/squad in general, and why?

7) Least favorite CODZ quartet/squad in general, and why?

8) Favorite individual CODZ character(s), and why?

9) Least favorite individual CODZ character(s), and why?

10) Any popular characters you think are overrated?

11) Any characters you personally find to be underrated?

12) What is your OTP (One True Pairing)? Could be more than one.

13) Favorite friendships/BroTPs?

14) Any popular CODZ games you find overrated?

15) What is a CODZ game you think deserves more love?

16) What is a part of the lore that you wish were explored more? (including the lores outside of Aether and Dark Aether)

17) If you could change anything about the lore in a CODZ game of your choice, how would you change it?

18) Do you have any headcanons? Could be of anyone.

19) FREEBIE! Ask any question you like!

[madomens]

Apocalypse mini series pt 2

TW: gore(typical zombie apocalypse gore)

Word count: 1.8k

There isn’t much conversation on the walk to the mall, just the occasional random questions from Nick, or Folio, as he likes to be called. Walking up the road that leads to the mall, trails of dead zombies lead the way towards the back of the large building. 

“Oh wow so you guys have to fight through this crowd every time you leave?” you ask just above a whisper. 

Noah nods his and puts his finger over his mouth telling you to be quiet. You obviously oblige, seeing as though they know their way around here much better than you do. Taking out more zombies than you’ve had to in a long time, you finally made it to the back where they show you the small crawl space they use to get in and out of the mall without making any noise.

The inside of the mall isn’t actually as bad as the outside thankfully so you don’t have to be as quiet. They’ve gotten about 3/4ths of the mall cleared out in the seven months that they have been staying here. You can’t even begin to imagine the amount of bodies they must have had to dispose of, including their own people. You never really had a group so you didn’t ever have to worry about losing anyone close to you. A few people have come and gone but it was never too hurtful, after all, you got pretty used to losing people before the apocalypse. 

“Wow,” you stammer almost struggling to imagine how it must have looked before they took over. 

“Yeah it’s pretty great. The only thing we should warn you about is where we’ve kind of had to push the rest of the dead guys until we can get to killing the rest of them.” Nick stops at a map of the mall which has different markings on it, showing where the danger zone is. “Basically anywhere with a huge “X” over it isn’t safe. We’ve marked maps all over the mall and there are writings on the walls pointing to the danger zones so unless you’re blind, it’s pretty straightforward.”

“You guys have really gotten this planned out. How the hell did you manage to take over the entire mall without other people trying to steal it?” You question. 

Folio and Noah exchange glances before Noah finally speaks up. “They definitely tried but we had more people and we were stronger. This is the first time we’ve had to leave in a while, hence all the corpses on the road.” 

You nod, still taking in the surroundings. They lead you back to the far left side of the mall and for the first time in four years, you see lights. It’s funny the things you take for granted and you never even realize it. 

“Oh my god,” you squeal like a kid on christmas. “Sorry I haven’t seen a light on in years. How did you manage this?”

“There’s a backup generator in the basement that runs on gas so we just make sure they stay full and.. Let there be light,” Folio smiles, showing off a goofy grin. 

As much as you hate to say it, you have missed being around other living people. Especially the ones who aren’t trying to kill you or steal from you. 

They continued showing you around a bit before finally getting back to the furniture store where apparently everyone sleeps. I guess that is a good idea to avoid getting ambushed while being alone. 

Noah whistles a weird tune before two new guys appear from different parts of the mall. They both have hella long hair and once again, are very attractive. It has been a long time since you’ve had any kind of intimacy but you weren’t really that big on it before the end of the world anyway. It is nice to see some attractive faces in the middle of all of this though. 

The one with the longer hair has a blank expression on his face and tattoos covering every inch of his arms and hands and of course,  is wearing all black. The other guy, like Folio and Noah, has long sleeves and pants on but you can clearly see the ink on his hands as well, and he actually has a bit of a smile on his face.

“Who’s this?” The taller one asks. He has a sort of accent you can’t quite figure out but he’s definitely nice to listen to. 

“Y/N.” You give a small smile and extend your hand only to be left in the dark. 

You slowly put your hand down and cross your hands across your chest, a bit embarrassed to say the least. 

“Found her at the gas station a few miles from here. We got caught in a horde and she handled her own so we figured we could use an extra hand around here from someone who knows what they’re doing.” Noah tells the other two men. “Where’s Matt?” 

“Who knows, man? He’s been in a mood today,” the other guy responds finally. “Sorry, I’m Nick, this is Jolly.” 

Oh wow. Two Nicks? I see why he goes by Folio now.

“Who’s the better Nick?” You try to joke, but only get a slight chuckle out of Folio. It’s okay. You haven’t been around people in months, the jokes will come back. 

Jolly and Noah make eye contact and Jolly motions to the right with his head as they walk away, obviously to talk about the situation.

“Well nice to meet you Y/N,” Nick breaks the silence after a minute. “Did they show you around?”

You pick at your fingernails, not able to tell the vibe of the room anymore. “Kind of,” you shrug.

Folio notices the change in your demeanor from just a few minutes ago. “Hey don’t mind Noah and Jolly. They can be grumpy sometimes, it’s not at you.” He gives you another big smile and of course you immediately feel a little better. 

“Well, let me and Folio give you the big tour,” Nick says.

You walk around the safe side of the mall for a while as they show you all the makeshift random shit they’ve made so far. There’s a clothing store next to the furniture store so you take your time trying to find something that hasn’t been worn for weeks without being properly washed. 

After the tour, you go back to the shower/locker room meant for employees and take a much needed HOT shower. Due to the generators, it kicks on the hot water heater in the building so not only is there a working shower, but it gets hot!!!

Letting the hot water run over your face and sore body, you can’t help but thank yourself mentally for saying yes to these two random guys. It’s been a few hours since you met but you already feel safer than staying alone in a beat down cabin in the woods. The showers are actually really nice for them to be inside of a mall; there are four showers, two on either side of the large room and they’re pretty spacious. 

After your shower, who knows how long you were in there, you notice the large mirror on the opposite side of the showers nearest the lockers. You honestly don’t even recognize yourself anymore. Your hair is much longer than it was but also in a weird way, much healthier, probably due to not using shampoo on it every other day. You’ve always been beautiful but after four years in an apocalypse, you definitely aren’t the same. The cuts and bruises on your arms and legs from fighting the dead ones and hiking through the woods are apparent, but they don’t make you any less beautiful. If anything, you look pretty badass right now.

Smiling at yourself, you finally put your new clothes on, you opted for a black cut off tank top and a pair of comfortable pajama shorts. Go big or go home right? You even got a new pair of house slippers because why not?

“Hey finally. So we were talking and since we obviously haven’t had any women staying around in quite some time, we wanted to see where you were comfortable staying. There’s plenty of room in the furniture department and you can have the farthest bed or however you want to do it,” Noah finally gives you a smile.

You glance over at Folio, who can’t take his eyes off of you and a light pink blush travels across your cheeks. 

“Oh um I haven’t really thought that far ahead. Show me where you guys sleep and I can go from there I guess,” you shift awkwardly, not used to the male attention.

Nick and Jolly take you to where everyone sleeps and show you around. They all sleep pretty close together which, you understand its the end of the world and everything, but who doesn’t want privacy?

You end up picking a king size bed not too far from the guys just in case something pops off in the middle of the night, and make it your own. The sage green comforter you find fits perfectly and it’s much better than sleeping on a hardwood floor with nothing but a thin blanket and a shirt for a pillow. 

a few hours later

The best thing about being at a mall in the middle of a pandemic, is the food. After only eating foraged berries and the occasional canned goods, finally having some real food (aka fish that Folio caught earlier that day), is the best way to end the day. 

“So where’s the other guy? What was his name, Matt?” You ask, stuffing your face. 

Jolly takes a break from picking at his fish and is the first to answer. “Sometimes Matt needs to have a bit of a ‘cool down’ from everything. He has quite the temper. No one really knows where he goes but he always comes back eventually.” 

You nod slowly, almost worrying about how he would feel about a random woman showing up out of nowhere. 

“Don’t look so worried princess, he doesn’t bite,” Noah taps his elbow into yours. 

If this man doesn’t stop using the nickname princess… 

You blush again at the way it rolls off of his tongue so perfectly. You almost can’t help but wonder what else he can do with it. 

Nick stands up and walks to the room everyone shares but not without saying, “you know what time it is,” first.

The other three guys let out some cheers and applause, leaving you looking dumbfounded and confused.

It’s very obvious these guys have known each other since the beginning at least with all the chemistry floating around. When Nick comes back, he has a bottle of tequila in one hand and ‘Cards Against Humanity’ in the other. Your eyes light up in an instant; you can’t even remember the last time you got to drink. Or play a card game with friends. Maybe the apocalypse won’t be too bad with these random tattooed guys around. 

lmkkk what you guys think🫶🏼🫶🏼

divider from here

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[sophiacloud28]

Brave Enough (One-shot)

Hey. Hey @silverwatergalaxy. #museloop. Also contains an instance of Y/N that I couldn't do anything about without breaking the flow. I'm sorry.

One-shot, Rise Leo, Apocalyptic Timeline, Pining

Prev || Next

Leonardo Hamato… is like a tide.

"What are we looking at, Dee?"

"Quite a few miles between us and the Statue of Liberty, a dried-up riverbed, and packs of Krang hounds and zombies. Thankfully, no actual Krang has been seen patrolling the area in a week. Let us pray that continues."

One that waxes and wanes, but is so steady, it should be predictable.

"Mikey?"

"The involvement with Krang should be minimal as long as we keep ourselves well hidden. A precision strike might be our best bet."

But even more than fire…

"Raph?"

"You know me, Captain. Ready for anything."

"Apes?"

"I agree with Mikey. A precision strike seems like our best bet."

Even more than humanity…

"Y/N?"

"What am I shooting at, Captain?"

The ocean is an unpredictable beast that just… sucks you in.

The chuckle makes you look away. The fact that he calls to you again has you stiffening and glancing his way to catch him motioning you closer despite leaning against the table. You sigh as you move, going to the other side as he requests Donatello pull up everything he has, which the softshell does, leaving you to see all kinds of erratic patterns across the table, some of which even climb the Statue as if trying to stake a claim on it.

"… Would it be possible to eliminate the hounds and zombies from this?"

"Dee?"

And you try to swallow your heart as the visual noise vanishes and you're left with still erratic lines but ones you can almost connect in the distance as a pair of eyes stares you down.

It's soft, but no less intense. You know that, if you look up, you'll find lime green staring at you, waiting for a comment, something. It almost makes it hard to concentrate around the pounding in your chest as you study the map and the patterns, yet unable but to wonder, to question when this all started happening.

Maybe when you started asking about certain individuals after meetings. Maybe when you warned him about an ally that turned out to be stealing food. Maybe when he started visiting every night asking about everything and anything before joking around. You don't know, but you know it's there and it's — it's more than it feels it should be. Certainly when all it takes is a frown from you to hear him adjust.

Patient. Steady. Like the tide.

"Well?"

"The patterns are too erratic to extrapolate anything out of. If this is Krang, a precision strike might be too high a risk."

"How about a small team, then?"

"Leo –"

"Up –"

"No. Mikey's right. If our target's the Statue, a team would be too easy to see. Again, if this is Krang, it's looking for us. The unruly nature of it… might just be it getting distracted by survivors."

"That correlates actually, the latest batch had them talking about laughter and getting dogged until they came underground."

But deep. Introspective. like the ocean.

You hear him breathe. You watch him as he blindly looks at the table.

"Is there a deadline on this, Dee?"

"Sooner the better."

"Can you reproduce the beacon?"

"Not more than twice."

And you get to see the moment he takes his decision, his expression hardening.

"Three teams. Mikey, stick with April. I want you guys to work on your speed and efficiency. Raph, Donnie, I'll be counting on you to create as much of a disturbance as possible while making your way to the Statue. As for you." You look at the sure smile spreading across his face. "You're with me."

"Leo, are you –?"

You're almost glad for Mikey's intervention.

"Certain. See you all back here when the beacons are done. Dee?"

"Give me two days."

"Great. Dismissed."

And you can only try to breathe as you go to leave before you hear your name and turn to see him leaning against the table.

His voice is still sharp, but there's a softness in his eyes that beckons you to stay. Keeps you still until he motions you back to the table he glances at before looking at you with a smile.

"I'll never understand how you manage that."

"Learned it. I'm just glad it's useful."

All while making you keenly aware of him as he exhales and motions you closer.

You swallow around your heart as he turns to half-sit on the table. Part of you wonders if he's going to grab your chin like it feels he should but never does. Instead, you breathe as he questions, "You okay with this?"

"With?"

"Being my partner."

And you feel an absolutely painful thud in your chest at a word you can only wish was being said in different circumstances.

You don't know when it happened. When he managed to make you feel like you mattered and you were part of this crazy group.

"I'm guessing the fact that I have to keep a distance will help ease your nerves?"

"Not really."

But you know that he's holding you prisoner. That his sweet, worried, and almost proud gaze is a cage you can't escape from. Unknowingly, Leonardo Hamato has you caught in a rip current and sinking into his ocean.

"Then?"

"I need a sharp eye. You have two."

And while you know you can't escape…

"Hermosa –"

"I need to get back to work and talk to Don. My quiver isn't infinite."

You know you can't sink further as you avoid his reaching hand and walk out.

Prev || Next

taglist: @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos, @thelaundrybitch, @luckycharms1701

[tobiasdrake]

What do you think of Majin Buu's redemption?

Complicated. Buu's arc isn't... I wouldn't really call it a redemption, so much? It's closer to a child learning right from wrong for the first time. Just. Muddied by the extent of the wrongs Buu committed in ignorance.

Morally speaking, Majin Buu is a very complicated character that operates on an eldritch scale. He doesn't map 100% onto a relatable human experience.

The original state of Buu, colloquially known as Kid Buu or Pure Buu, is effectively a mindless killing machine.

Like. That's not to say that he's a zombie or something. Pure Buu demonstrates creative attacks, learns moves from watching others perform them, and is capable of advanced problem-solving.

But by the same token, he doesn't really seem... self-aware. Pure Buu's behavior is more akin to a feral beast than a sentient person.

I would compare him to a robot. He's capable of learning, applying knowledge, and working out solutions to obstacles in front of him. But he has no sense of self, identity, or real understanding of the universe around him; Only a program that he uses his comprehension to carry out.

He's making advanced calculations, rather than informed choices. He exists for the singular purpose of purging all things that exist.

No, Goku. He does not. He is not interested in fighting you. He is not interested in anything. He is executing Annihilation.exe.

The only reason the fight on the Kaioshin world can even happen is because their god-world apparently can't be blown up.

This is what writing yourself into a corner with protagonists who can't breathe in space and a villain who blows up any planet he touches looks like.

Even Buu himself doesn't like this version of him. He practically begs Goku and Vegeta not to erase his identity and personality.

This is the foundation that Buu starts from: A killing machine programmed to destroy. But then he absorbed the Daikaioshin or The Great God of the World Kings and developed an intellect and personality.

(Given that Dragon Ball's mythology is rooted in Japanese Buddhism, it's likely no coincidence that Daikaioshin and by association Fat Buu has a Buddha-like appearance.)

Fat Buu is a lot like Piccolo Jr., with the difference being that the reincarnated Piccolo was very adult-coded while Buu is clearly meant to be taken as a child. Nonetheless, he's the first aspect of Buu to be self-aware enough to become capable of moral agency. Daikaioshin's influence on his mind made him more intelligent, turning him from a mindless killing machine into an impulsive and easily influenced child.

Look at him in that center panel. Just. Thinking about what Goku said. Mulling it over in his head. Like, he was onboard with this whole "Do what I say because I have power over you" thing but now that you mention it....

Goku does not get enough credit for being the one to kill Babidi. This rolled up to him. He straight-up ended Babidi with a question.

In this form, Buu does vile things, to be sure.

But as the text box says: He's a child at play. Majin Buu at this point has the moral complexity of a five-year-old. He's not really evil; He just... doesn't know better. He's never been taught better, and so his actions are almost paradoxical in nature.

Legit, one of my favorite chapters of the entire Buu arc is when he encounters a starving blind kid and heals his blindness so he can be properly afraid of him. Then winds up making friends.

Nuked that town and also he made that milk by Candy Beaming a human being so that's horrifying. And yet, you can see the peculiarity of his villainy even this early. Buu craves approval, even though he's been taught to care only about destruction and carnage.

Craves it so much that bringing an end to his carnage is as simple as asking him to stop.

And that's that. It's really not so much a redemption story as it is a child being taught better. Mr. Satan was the first person ever to actually say to this thinking form of Majin Buu, "Hey, that's bad. Don't do that. It's bad."

The first person to try parenting him instead of fighting him. (To be fair, it would have been impossible to parent him before Goku's semantic homicide of Babidi.)

Once this form of Buu returns in the final battle, he still isn't really a moral actor. He becomes a protagonist out of nepotism.

(Yeah, Viz uses Hercule instead of Mr. Satan because they hate fun. HAIL SATAN.)

After Satan asks him to please stop being bad, Buu becomes morally neutral. He's effectively Satan's uncontrollable toddler. He doesn't comprehend high-minded ideals of good or evil; He's an emotional and impulsive creature who cares about his bestie.

Which, to be honest, puts him in good company. Most of the cast of Dragon Ball are ex-assholes who don't so much have a traditional redemption story, but instead just... stop doing the thing. They used to be assholes, and then, for one reason or another, they stopped.

It's actually something I find really grounded about the way Dragon Ball handles its cast. Most of the characters in the series are like this, to varying degrees of past heinousness. There's none of the gravitas of atonement or redemption questing or the Big Moment of Redemption. They just. Stop being assholes and become some guy.

Piccolo is a rare exception.

[strangerquinns]

Deadly Reunion| Chapter 19

Eddie Munson x female!reader // a stranger things apocalypse au

summary: You and Eddie have been best friends since childhood. But when the outbreak happened five years ago, you were torn from one another in the chaos. but now you’re left alone, after your group was killed by another radical crew, leaving you to seek out what was once home. // zombie apocalypse Hawkins set in 1993

warnings: angst + adult themes w/ descriptions of violence, blood, torture + other zombie apocalypse related issues (no use of y/n)

word count: 3.3k+

⪻ previous chapter | next chapter ⪼ | stranger things masterlist

** warning: chapter contains smut. mdni, thank you***

“They are camped out at the old Star Court Mall,” Enzo explained while his fingers moved across the map in front of him, circling an area toward the north. “A few of them stayed back and watched as the rest of the group filtered from Redding, which is only fifteen miles northeast. Seems they were like us and looting for supplies.”

You nervously bit on your nails as you listened to the man talk, noticing the slight hint of accent the more he spoke. Russian? Maybe. The cafeteria had been turning into a headquarters ever since Hopper broke the news to the rest of the camp of his plans. The majority agreed with what he planned; a small percentage disagreed. In the last few days, more runs were being taken with the need for supplies. Smaller groups so to be discreet in case they were to come across the radical group.

“That’s a risk to take on that large of a building,” Hopper spoke, his thick brows pulled tightly together with a pensive look.

“Flayed aren’t really out that way, too far North.” Enzo spoke “Not enough…resources.”

“This group is going to draw more this way,” Steve spoke up. “They brought a pack in with them in Redding.”

“Multiple packs.” You spoke, causing a few of the heads to snap toward you. “It’s like feeding off the chaos, the thrill of picking the Flayed off one by one as they moved through.”

“These people sound like monsters.” Joyce Byers spoke from the seat to the left of Hopper.

“That would be a good description.” You nodded, your teeth biting at the nails and sore skin around them.

“I think that’s enough for today.” Hopper spoke, grabbing the mug he’d been sipping on all day, “Let’s regroup in the morning. I’m sure we all could use a break.”

One by one people began to spill out of the room, small groups of people talking amongst themselves and lingering behind. Eddie walked across the room toward you and quickly wrapped an arm around you, pulling you tightly against his side.

You leaned into him and sighed softly with your arms wrapping around him as well. The two of you just stood there for a moment in silence before Eddie pulled back and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You felt the calloused touch of his thumb against your cheek as your eyes closed gently. His touch - it was a soft relief to the worry that was clouding your brain.

“You want to get out of here?” Eddie spoke gently causing you to open your eyes slowly. His dark eyes were focused solely on you. Eddie was so close you were able to nearly count the freckles that danced across his face.

“Where would we go?” You questioned with your brows pulling together with slight confusion. “Not many places for us to go.”

“Leave base for a little bit. Not too far, but enough for us to clear our heads…have some alone time.” Eddie shrugged. “Think the both of us need it?”

“Ok,” You nodded before he stepped back and threaded his fingers with yours.

The two of you slipped out of the room quickly with the last few before leaving out of the main building. Many of the others returned to their normal work and routine. The camp was buzzing as people prepared for the colder months that were quickly approaching. It seemed every morning was colder than the last and fewer trees had leaves on them. You and Eddie stopped at his trailer for a few things before leaving out of the main gate. Your fingers brushed against the knife you kept sheathed to your waist as you quietly ventured through the woods.

The forest surrounding the Lab was quiet in a serene sort of way. But with the two of you still staying vigilant. It felt nice to be away from the noise of the Camp. Of not feeling the eyes of others on you as you moved about.

It wasn’t long till the two of you hit a residential street. Small cabins and homes are dilapidated and crumbling along a pebbled road. A few mailboxes were rusted with the faint memory of numbers and words along the sides. It was a shell of what it once was with time frozen. Cars still parked in driveways with people's items scattered across the lawns with broken glass.

“It’s a ghost town,” You spoke as you walked beside Eddie, your eyes moving from one side of the street to another.

“Yeah,” He sighed heavily “It’s weird, over time it’s like we’re not able to recognize what was anymore. Spent our entire lives in this town…and some places…just…gone.”

“You go through the town a lot?” You asked.

“Sometimes, we have to go in and clear out the Flayed that stumble out from the city, or wherever else the fuck they come from.” Eddie shrugged. “It gets harder with each trip. Seeing it all just die away.”

“Well, where are you taking me?” You asked, reaching over, and grasping his hand.

Eddie smirked slightly and gave your hand a squeeze, “You’ll see.”

He tugged on your arm slightly and pulled you down along the road a little more, the two of you picking up the pace the farther you got. When the two of you turned down another street, and you saw the white house pushed back into the woods with the boat house behind it, you quickly realized where the two of you were.

“Holy shit.” You gasped and stopped short in front of the house, Eddie laughing slightly as you stared at the moss and vine-covered home. “How the fuck…how did…”

“I was as shocked as you, sweetheart,” Eddie spoke before moving toward the front porch. “You comin’?”

You hesitated for a moment as you looked around the surrounding area, hearing the creak of the wood beneath Eddie’s feet and hesitating for a moment. A rush of memories came at you as you stared at the small home. It was like the ruin it had fallen into wasted away and instead, the version you remember was before you. Along with the sounds of heavy metal music and the heavy smell of weed.

“It going to be safe for us to be in there?” You questioned, your eyes darting toward the warped wood Eddie stood on.

“I was here not that long ago,” Eddie spoke, reaching up to move his curls from his face. “Actually, was here right before you found us.”

That was nearly over a month ago easily. It was odd to think of how much time had passed.

You crossed the front lawn and onto the porch with Eddie, crowding behind him quickly as he pulled open the front door. You didn’t miss it as Eddie grabbed his knife and slowly walked into the home. You stayed close behind as he did a quick sweep of the small home.

Reefer Rick's place was small to where you could stand at the front door and see every inch of the place. The dining room table was right to the left of the door, now knocked against the wall with the chairs. The kitchen is immediately to the left with layers of dust on every surface. The house had a thick smell of dust and something wet. Less than ten steps forward and you were in the living room. The cushion of the couch laid across the floor with a scattering of blankets and a pillow. You didn’t miss the empty beer bottles that covered the surface of the coffee table and an ashtray.

“Stay here, I’m going to search the bedroom and bathroom,” Eddie spoke, moving to take a step away from you, but stopping short as you tugged on the back of his jacket. He looked back at you with a questioning look.

“Going alone isn’t smart, ever.” You shook your head, “I’m right behind you.”

Eddie hesitated for a second, before nodding his head and continuing forward.

Eddie kept his steps short and tight with his arm raised, and knife ready if needed. You couldn’t hear anything but both of your shallow breaths as you stepped into the bedroom. It was empty. Just an unkempt bed with faded blue sheets and a dresser with the drawers ripped out and everything scattered on the floor.

“Nothing.”

The two of you did the same for the bathroom and came up empty. Eddie double checked the back entrance before the two of you relaxed.

“This place looks like someone stays here,” You spoke, setting your back down on the table by the door.

“Yeah,” Eddie scratched the back of his neck. “I do…well, did sometimes.”

“Alone?” You asked with wide eyes, he nodded in confirmation. “Eddie! That’s not safe.”

“I never came without protection and always let Steve of Gareth know where I was. I just…this has become my place to just get peace.”

You nervously bit on your lip before moving around and walking toward the couch and pillows sitting on the floor. You grabbed the light fainted floral printed blanket and began to place the couch back together. Eddie moved around behind you with the soft thump of his pack hitting the floor. Your eyes scanned around the wood paneling and felt the memories rushing back to the times you were in high school.

“So weird…being back here…” You laughed lightly to yourself, watching as Eddie moved to sit beside you. Resting back against the couch.

“I wanted us to have a little alone time and just away from everything, and not at the trailer.” Eddie shrugged, a little bashful, with a little red on his cheeks as he stared at you.

“Is this a date or something?” You asked with a small giggle.

Eddie reached down into the pack he’d dropped on the floor and pulled out two beer bottles, an even more coy smile on his lips. “Maybe.”

“Munson” You shook your head and took the bottle from his hand after he opened it, the bottle barely having a chill. But you already knew it was going to be a bit sour.

“Know you’ve been a little down lately, especially after everything,” Eddie spoke with a slight shrug as you took a drink, fighting back the grimace as you felt the liquid against your tongue. “And I feel like we haven’t been able to fully talk about it ever since you got back.”

You frowned and looked down at your bottle, “Talking about things isn’t really a date idea that I would’ve come up with.”

Eddie reached over and gently caressed your cheek, causing you to look toward him again. His hand moved till it caressed the back of your neck and rubbed gently. You couldn’t help but melt into his touch and close your eyes softly, whimpering at the massaging pressure against your neck.

“I don’t want you taking this the wrong way,” Eddie started “But we spoke of speaking when we got back after the run. And we sort of have, but I think seeing Nancy die did something, and we didn’t really talk to each other.”

You sighed softly and took another drink from your bottle, “Is that a bad thing? I forgave you; I didn’t think there was more to talk about.”

“No. Just don’t want that if it causes you don’t want to deal with anything after what happened in Redding.”

You closed your eyes tightly and let out a small noise of anguish, “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“This, trying to…pull things out of me…make me talk about things I don’t want to talk about.”

“Because I love you,” Eddie spoke simply “And I hate seeing you hurting because it’s clear that you are. I hear your cries in your sleep. Your begging.”

You didn’t need to ask what begging, or who you were begging for. The nightmares were clear, and you knew them too well. They switched but were all the same. Memories of loss. Memories of pain.

“Nancy did trigger something.” You nodded your head “My mom, seeing that, brought it all back to the surface. And I didn’t want to talk about anything else because none of it mattered anymore. We are shown time and time again that life is short, way shorter than we think now with how the world is. We have all lost someone” You swallowed thickly. “So why waste time rehashing things that don’t matter anymore when I have you now?”

Eddie blinked a few times as he stared at you before whispering, “Fuck,” He exhaled loudly as if weight we being removed from his shoulders. “Sweetheart, when you say it like that…”

“I love you, Eddie. With every piece of my soul and heart, I’m yours. Nothing else matters. Nothing.”

You spoke with such honesty and conviction as you choked around the words, feeling the emotion as your heart pounded in your chest.

“I want to have my time with you filled with happiness and love as much as we can. That’s it.”

Eddie reached his hand forward and wiped the stray tear that moved down your cheek.

“That’s all I want with you too,” Eddie spoke, his dark brown eyes shining with tears. “I love you so, so much.”

You moved forward and set your drink down before reaching for him. Eddie barely had time to react, setting his to the side as well before you were on him. Your lips moved against his in a way that made you feel like the two of you were one. Bodies pressed tightly together with your hands caressing against the others. Your hand moved beneath his shirt needing to feel his skin. Eddie pulled you onto his lap with his hands spanning across your back and moving down.

Your lungs felt tight with the need for air, but you didn’t care.

All you wanted was Eddie. To feel him, taste him, melt into him.

There was no doubt in your mind that Eddie was the person who was made for you. Everything felt like chaos unless he was at your side.

You pulled back and rested your forehead against yours, hands moving frantically as you rushed to unbuckle his belt.

“I need you, please…” You whimpered with a soft whine, both of you panting as his hands moved with yours.

You watched as he quickly unbuckled his jeans as you stood to do the same. The two of you seemingly became more frantic as seconds passed. The moment your pants were kicked to the side, along with your underwear, you moved back to him. Your lips met with his in a kiss that was messy - teeth clashing against one another.

There was a slight pause between the two of you. Eddie reaches up to caress your face gently and keeps his eyes locked with yours. It was a moment for you to back out. To stop, to take a second and think. But you didn’t need it.

“Eddie,” You whispered gently.

Without a thought Eddie’s lips are on yours, devouring you again, with your hands moving into his dark messy curls. You whimpered as your hips moved against him, feeling him warm and hard against your slit. You couldn’t stop the moment you felt, spreading your slick up and his hardened cock. Just from the feel of him, you knew Eddie was thick, large and it only made you hungry for him more. All on your mind was that you didn’t feel close enough and you needed more. You wanted Eddie to consume you.

Eddie’s hands gripped at the soft, plushy curve of your hips, guiding you as you moved against him. The moans and whimpering shared between the two of you with your tongues moving against each other. You pulled back to reach down between the two of you, palming and stroking his cock slowly, mesmerized as you looked down at him. The soft pink head glistened with a mixture of the two of you, pearls of precum drooling down the side of his shaft. Eddie reached over and gripped tightly to the couch cushion beside him as he let out a whimpered cry with his eyes rolling into the back of his head. His hips moved up against the stroke of your hand.

“Baby – I…fuck please – I need, need to be inside you.” Eddie choked out, his words soft and whiney with a glazed look in his eyes.

Never had you felt like this. So desperate for another, a feeling building up in your chest that makes your chest feel tight.

You rise more on your knees and guide him to your entrance, stroking his head against your slit, before sinking down. A shudder ran up your spine as you felt the stretch of him till he was buried deep inside of you. You sat there for a moment with your hands pressed against his chest and his still white knuckling the couch.

“J-Jesus fuck – oh, baby –,” Eddie choked out as you started to ride him – rolling your hips against him.

A soft breathy whine passed through your lips every time the thatch of hair at the base of his cock brushed against your sensitive clit. Eddie can’t keep his eyes off of where the two of you are joined, watching as your slick drips down his cock and into his pubes. It was a sight he wanted committed to memory for the rest of his life.

“You…fuck – Eddie,” You couldn’t think as the words leaving your mouth became more of an incoherent moaning jumble of words.

Eddie moved quick and flipped the two of you, moving you to lay across the couch with him stretched out above you. The leverage caused Eddie to sink deeper inside, making the two of you cry out. You felt breathless with how full he made you feel. It wasn’t even over, and already, you wanted more. With your legs wrapped around his waist, Eddie began to move faster with each thrust harder than the last. You whimpered at the feeling of him pushing deeper into you.

“That’s it baby, good fuckin’ girl,” Eddie panted, his darkened eyes staring down at you. Your pussy tightened around him more and seemed to pull him in deeper. “Oh…you like that? Like when I call you a good girl?”

“Eddie,” You whined, your pussy fluttering around him more.

“Gonna cum? I can feel it, can feel this perfect lil’ pussy – fuck,” Eddie bit down on his lower lip before cursing under his breath. “Let go for me, I need it…I fuckin’ need to feel this pussy milkin’ my cock.”

Eddie’s hand moved down between you and soon you felt pressed against your clit. A shout came from deep within your chest with the shock of pleasure that moved through you. With the feeling of his fingers against your clit and his cock hitting that spot deep within you, you were gone. Your walls spasm around him as you whimper his name over and over, like a prayer leaving your lips with each sigh. Eddie’s hand moves along your sides as your legs shake, his body pressing down on yours, as his hips move with sharper, sloppier thrusts. Eddie pulls out quickly with his hand fisting around his cock and stroking himself before you felt the warmth of him against your lower stomach. The sight of him sent another shudder through you.

“Holy…fuck,” Eddie groaned, before looking at you and letting out a soft giggle.

You couldn’t help but do the same, the two of you there with your bodies glistening with sweat and each other.

“God what I wouldn’t give for a picture of this,” Eddie spoke, groaning softly, as his eyes scanned over your body.

“You’re a perv, Munson,” You shook your head, “Now get something to clean me off.”

“Yes ma’am,” Eddie bent down and kissed you quickly before moving from the couch and toward the kitchen. You couldn’t stop the giggle from bubbling up again as you watched his pale ass as he ran from you.

So that happened...anyway...hope you enjoyed it....please leave a comment, reply, like, or reblog if you did! it really means a lot to me. come and chit-chat with me if you'd like, i love seeing what you guys think. till the next one! (also be gentle it's been months since I've written smut and I'm out of practice thank you. read smut absolutely, 25/8 I'm doing it, but writing...ehhhhhh)

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[bucketspammer4life]

★ the boxers playing minecraft ★

me when i mine the craft or something

★ glass joe ★

lost, doesn't know anything and is struggling

got killed by bees 10 minutes into the game because he accidentally whacked a bee

collecting flowers and just giving them to everyone when hes bored

horrible at combat, would die even if you gave him literally everything

just kinda robs villagers for fun

keeps getting killed by aran to the point where its not funny anymore

★ von kaiser ★

was doing great until it became night, was running like his life depended on it

somehow got to the nether early, broke his portal and got stuck until he threw himself into lava

keeps forgetting to sleep and is constantly being chased by phantoms

has 50 stacks of bread somehow, willing to share

screamed when he first found a squid while swimming, thought it was aggresive

keeps wandering into places he knows damn well he'll get wrecked at

★ disco kid ★

doing very well, just forgot his base's door open once and had the worst experience of his life but everything else is fine

had to carry joe & kaiser through the game but gave up when Kaiser got sent to the nether somehow

likes doing water bucket trips, convinced joe he could do it with a milk bucket and laughed at him for a while

keeps throwing hands with don for no reason

became a beast once he found note blocks and discs

★ king hippo ★

absolute menace, likes building traps around his base to keep others out, got a business building traps for others in exchange for resources

just got lots of resources, built a cute house, got a dog and just farmed for fun, sometimes has other boxers come into his nice little house

stealing joe's flowers for his aesthetic house

chased bear hugger across the map for fun

★ piston hondo ★

actually finishing the game, practically speedrunning it

was the first one to get a full set of diamond, really happy about it

stealing everything from the villagers, down to the houses and everything

struggling with redstone

tried to build a exp farm but accidentally crashed his computer

Has a army of bees he uses terrorize everyone

★ bear hugger ★

goofing around and just chatting with everyone for funsies

got killed by a pufferfish while trying to kill it

secretly adds onto Disco's stone pile by adding 1 (one) stone every time he adds another one

has 30 crafting tables and is hayr hiding them in everyone elses bases

throws eggs at Hippo everytime he tries to chase him again

fistfighting fish in the sea like they killed his family or something

★ great tiger ★

just breaks into everyone elses bases sometimes to say hello or show them some stuff he got

somehow surviving without a base

had his diamonds stolen by hondo for speedrunning purposes

got a cat and takes care of it like its his child, anyone who attempts to hurt it gets griefed to death

scared of the sounds coming from the mines

tried to sleep in the nether, 10 dead 20 injured

extremely invested in the "bear hugger fighting fish" saga

★ don flamenco ★

trying to build the cutest house ever, keeps getting it griefed by Hippo, there can only be one pretty house in this server

went to the end early somehow and got his ass kicked by the dragon

tried to eat rotten flesh and died. twice

tried to join Tiger in the mines but he kept screaming from the sounds so Tiger chased him away

set Hippos house on fire at one point

★ aran ryan ★

absolutely devious, keeps setting everyone on fire, trapped Kaiser in the nether

demolished Disco kids base, by demolished i mean took EVERYTHING down, including the walls and everything and only left his bed there

keeps hiding spider spawners under dons house for fun

Hondo and Hippo teamed up to kill him but failed thanks to the questionable amount of tnt he has

may or may not have creative mod on

★ soda popinski ★

doing his best but keeps getting unlucky, every zombie targets him, hondo keeps taking his food and has the worst rng ever

keeps fighting macho, has a very bad arena like area near his base where just fights people inside it,bare hands only

had a pet fox that jumped DIRECTLY into lava the second he got it, had a funeral for it & everything

Got struck by lightning 2 times in a row somehow

★ bald bull ★

Just attacking everyone & everything with everything hes got

likes robbing aran specifically for his stash of weapons & tnt

got trapped by aran in bedrock jail when he went afk, aran was generous enough to give him some food & a bed, got his jail titled "bald dude enclosure"

got chased by dogs after he hit one accidentally

fighting soda & macho for fun

★ super macho man ★

hanging out with soda and bugging him

laughed at a house he built for 10 minutes because it looked ugly, its a landmark for everyone now along with "bald dude enclosure"

tried to kill a iron golem after he found it coming for him while he tried to kill a villager

turned on creative mode and just built himself the iconic diamond house and just toured the place

★ mr sandman ★

actually beat the ender dragon & focused on the game but that didnt stop him from robbing others occassionally for fun

keeps having sand blocks given to him with the message "This you?"

audibly screamed "NOOO" When he saw bear hugger lose the fight against the pufferfish

Has a underground base that Tiger somehow found instantly

thinks the enchanting table looks pretty

kept throwing stuff at bull while he was in bald dude enclosure

[ashleyisodd]

Been thinking a lot about the Phighting Faction Leaders. Last that I checked, not only was it confirmed that each faction had its own leader, but that the four leaders would be/would be related to Korblox, Redcliff, Overseer, and Darkage. But who rules what faction, exactly?

Well, let’s start with something simple. Darkage is the leader of Thieves’ Den. Not only is the map Darkage Cliffs specifically said to take place in Thieves’ Den, but all the Roblox Darkage gears were made for a made-up group called the Darkage Ninjas, and Thieves’ Den seems pretty strongly tied to Japanese culture.

Next off, another relatively simple pairing for who rules which faction: Korblox rules Blackrock. The Korblox Roblox gears were made for the Korblox, a group of people, (barbarians? Zombies? Or both, I forgor), who live in an icy wasteland, and I’m pretty sure Blackrock has a cold, icy climate and is located in the mountains.

But then that leaves the question of which factions Overseer and Redcliff rule, which seems complicated at first, but can be figured out via the official lore for these made-up Roblox kingdoms and clans that their gears are made for, and based on the Phighting lore.

Redcliff rules Playground. Playground and Blackrock are said to be enemies, and who else are said to be enemies? Korblox and Redcliff. If Korblox rules Blackrock, then Redcliff would have to rule Playground, Blackrock’s main enemy.

And then that leaves Overseer as the ruler of Lost Temple by default, although, with all the teal/green associated with Lost Temple and the weird potential cult activity that lines up pretty well with the Overseers’ weird cryptic nature, Overseer does seem to be a pretty solid fit as the leader of Lost Temple. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if Overseer ends up being directly involved with the cult activity, perhaps even being the leader of whatever cult is going on. But Overseer is probably going to be one of the richest demons alive, that too.

Anyways I hope you enjoyed the ramblings of a sleep-deprived maniac. Have a good day/night.