#the pc has been pretty bad lately...

[perfectqueen]

August 11 - Happy Birthday Fuwari!

[blorbologist]

Y'know, I think I figured out why the Hells still feel like a new low-level party to me, even though they're level 13 and almost 100 episodes in.

I don't quite think it's the lack of conversations, or the fact half the party's plot hooks are big ties to past campaigns - though that definitely plays a part.

... Bell's Hells still primarily rely on quest givers.

Most of their goals are given to them and do not feel organic to the party, and constantly remind us that the Hells are pretty much never the most powerful people in the room. Which is usually something you see with a low-level party.

NPCs offering jobs is not a bad thing; it's a very common plot hook. Matt has been extremely skilled with using NPC quest givers in those two campaigns. Not only do they provide an obvious plot thread, but they can put the party in the path of others (say, the Nein running into the Iron Shepherds while doing a job for the Gentleman and everything that came of that). And the Hells had a solid start with it too - Eshteross was an excellent quest giver!

The problem is that Bell's Hells have never really not had a quest giver.

Maybe it's a byproduct of the more plot-heavy structure of this campaign? But while prior parties have felt like they decided on their course of action and what they prioritized, Bell's Hells feels less like level 13 (13! Level 13!) experienced adventurers and more like an MMO group clicking on the exclamation point over an NPC's head. Where does the plot demand we go next? Who do we report back to?

They're level 13.

At level 13, Vox Machina had just defeated a necromantic city-state to clear their name and Percy's conscience. And, you know, the Conclave just destroyed Emon. No one was explicitly telling the group to gather Vestiges and save the world (though Matt guided them there), and they were usually among the most powerful people in the room. They chose which Vestiges to prioritize, which dragons to tackle when, even if the over-all plot was pretty clear.

At level 13, the Mighty Nein were celebrating Traveler Con (another PC goal, I'll note) after brokering peace between two nations, accidentally becoming pirates and heroes of the Dynasty. The Nein regularly chose what to do based on personal goals, not grand ones. Though definitely smaller fish than Vox Machina at this level, they were very independent and gaining solid political clout.

While we're at it: level 13 is one level lower than the Ring of Brass, who had a huge amount of sway over Avalir. They ended the world, and also saved it, while in the grand scheme of things being only a smidge more powerful than Bell's Hells are now.

Can you really see the Hells wielding that amount of influence, when they're constantly being told what to do next?

The god-eater might be unleashed, so Bell's Hells have no time to do anything but what is asked of them. No time for therapy unless stolen from Feywild time, no travel on foot and late-night watches. They haven't even had time to grieve FCG. Percy was grieved in the middle of the Conclave arc. Molly was grieved when half the party was still in irons.

Matt is in the very unfortunate spot of not being able to give the Hells the same agency as the other two parties. Not only because of the world-ending plot introduced so early on; they are surrounded by characters they know (and the cast knows) are stronger and wiser than them - the familiarity of the past PCs and NPCs is to their disadvantage.

Why would the party reasonably ignore Keyleth's task that will help save the world and go off on a romp? Why would the cast when they know well Keyleth has to be sensible and with the best intentions in mind? The stakes are just too high.

It means that the Hells still feel like they're running errands instead of pursuing their own destiny. Their accomplishments are diminished as just being parts of a to-do list, and any stakes feel padded by several level 20 PCs/NPCs standing 5 steps away ready to catch them.

This isn't Bell's Hell's fault, nor is it Matt's. It could be amended, I think, if the Hells are really left to their own devices for a long period of time without support and shortcuts (like during the party split)... which would be really tricky to pull off at this point in the campaign.

They're level 13. They're big fish, but they're stuck in a pond full of friendly sharks, so they don't feel big at all.

[neuvistar]

GAMER ! BLADE HEADCANONS!

— featuring ┊blade x f!reader

— warnings / content warnings ┊both suggestive + kinda fluffy yup yup ! use of nicknames, oral (m!receiving), pathetic loser gamer blade is my favourite blade, he spits in ur mouth.. like once, mentions / implications of vaginal fingering, overall suggestive content | 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

— a/n ┊thx 2 the anon who sent an ask abt gamer blade, ily mwah </3 this is inspired by ur ask angel ! ♡ whaddahell it didn’t work the first time let us pray it works this time

GAMER ! BLADE who would have an adorable girlfriend like you. honestly, he didn’t expect to have a girlfriend because of how pathetic and how much of a loser he is. you’re probably his first relationship too because he’s a loser who can’t communicate with women but that’s besides the point! i t’s his first time, give him a rest! for his first time being in a relationship, blade would surprisingly be a good boyfriend to you, he’s trying his best, really. he wants the best for you and him so he would try his best to spend time with you rather than his pc, bladie has such a huge puppy dog crush on you he probably kisses the ground you walk on.

GAMER ! BLADE who is actually pretty clean and organized, he’s a total hottie too.. that’s a bonus. his desk and room is always clean, and he actually looks hot for a pathetic loser. blade would get flustered every single time you called his loser ass hot because in all these years of his life he’s never been called such thing, and being called hot by you? that’s a blessing to him. i think he’s not confident about his looks much since he’s pretty much.. a sore loser! but when you came into his life, he changed his mindset about himself! a lil realization in his head while looking at the mirror after a long shower like.. “.. oh. i’m kinda attractive.” he would say, looking at his reflection with a towel around his waist. i bet he’s pretty muscular too, extra bonus points!

GAMER ! BLADE who would try and be secretive about his relationship with you from his viewers (if he even streams) but if the time comes that you both are ready to reveal your relationship, his viewers are sending shocked and funny comments, half of them saying how they never expected blade to even bag a pretty girl like you, hyping him up and telling him how lucky he was (he really was! he really was lucky to have a pretty girlfriend like you).

there are times where he likes showing you off and flexing to people how pretty his girlfriend is while sometimes there are moments where he doesn’t like showing you off, ooh. possessive much. i mean, can you blame him? he can’t have another guy trying to win your heart over! this isn’t a video game, he thinks!

GAMER ! BLADE who would spend hours on end playing games, maybe even streaming as well. he would take his sweet time on his games that he wouldn’t even notice how much time passed already, how late he was to dinner with you when he promised to be down in a few minutes. well, i hope he likes his food cold because you’re not making him more as payback for making you wait so long. blade would apologize to you by dropping his games and devoting his whole time on giving attention you, a lil bonus if he fucks you too as an apology, consensual ofc!

“that’s it, angel.. fuck.. you feel so good.” he mumbled against your neck, biting down and digging his teeth into your skin. “‘m sorry, baby. fuck! how many times to i have to say it, hm? mmh.. can i fuck it in your pretty head? mhm? ‘wanna make you realize just how sorry i am.. cmon.”

GAMER ! BLADE who would ask you to play horror games with him, i mean.. it’s not like he’s afraid he just wants you to accompany him. most of the time, it’s you screaming on his lap with your hand clasped around your mouth nuzzling against his neck, trying your absolute hardest to stifle any more screams from leaving your throat! he would tease you about it nonstop.

“why were you so scared? it wasn’t even bad.” if he’s feeling a little extra, he would ask if he could.. calm you down in a more intimate way.. of course you’d accept! but there’s something so erotic about how he slides his fingers inside your shorts while teasing your slit with the base of his fingers, trying to calm you down while he whispers praises and dirty things in your ear, so erotic. there’s something so good.. so erotic about that. “calm down, will you? that stupid monster’s not gonna get you, baby. i got you.”

GAMER ! BLADE who would ascend to heaven the moment he sees you kneeling under his desk, resting your cheek on his lap. he knows this, he knows your tactics.. he knows what you want from him. he would have his dick sucked under the desk from time to time, running his fingers through your hair.. it’d be even more riskier if he was streaming, trying his best to stifle his moans and hold himself back from completely fucking your mouth. it’s embarrassing enough that some of the viewers noticed his odd behaviour and commented if something was wrong. fuck, he knows it’s hard when you’re there swirling your tongue around his cocktip, stroking the parts of him you couldn’t reach. blade couldn’t take it anymore.

he would mute his mic and turn off his camera, grabbing a fistful of your hair while bucking his hips against your mouth with such force, tears beginning to form on the corners of your eyes because of how rough he is with you! “that’s it, sweet thing. keep sucking me off like that.. fucking naughty girl you are, huh?” he pulled you up from the ground, forcing you to open wide for him before spitting in your mouth. “you’re such a slut for my cock, aren’t you? couldn’t even wait when i was done streaming, hm?” he forced you down on your knees again, cupping your cheek. “you want me to fuck you infront of everyone, angel? you want everyone to see how much of an impatient whore you can be, hm? is that what you want? because i’ll gladly show every single one of these fuckers how much of a slut you are for my cock.” damn. he’s so.. mean sometimes.

GAMER ! BLADE who would finger you occasionally while he streams to ease up a bit! he knows it’s risky, you know it too. but he just can’t get enough of the feeling of your hole pulsing around his digits, he just.. can’t control himself when your hands are roaming all around his body, caressing his toned stomach, his biceps, everything. you sat on another chair, legs spread with your sweet pussy displayed for him, plunging his fingers inside over and over again, hitting your sweet spot. he’s so.. mean! blade told you to keep quiet.. he doesn’t want a sound to even leave your lips. but you know it’s impossible, he knows too. but.. i guess you have to try, you wouldn’t want his viewers finding out what he was doing to you behind the scenes, would you? </3

[hanasnx]

oh pornstar ani how i’ve missed you

what do u think he’d be like with a virgin? do u think he’d like it or would he rather be with someone more experienced?

-🎀

MINORS DNI 18+

ADULTFILM!ANAKIN SKYWALKER prefers someone more experienced. There’s a frailty to a virgin that's difficult to get around, and since he’s impatient and far from a teacher, he doesn’t want to have to drag someone through the process. There's a lot of messiness that can come with being someone's first. Someone with experience can bring a lot of unspoken trust, professionalism, and conversation to the table which helps blend the pair together. Especially because Anakin has a nasty habit of taking things too far, he needs someone with the ability to say no in the moment before he gets carried away. It’s not that he hates virgins, dislikes them, or thinks they’re useless, he just prefers experienced co-stars.

However, there’s been an exception: you, a virgin porn-star. You’ve been laughed at in this industry, endlessly and you’ve learned to take the joke. A virgin porn-star sounds like an oxymoron if you've ever heard one. You do at-home stuff from the safety of your own camera and PC, stuff with anal beads and dildos you order off Bad Dragon. A live show occurs every so often. Of course you’re not an expert, but that’s the point. Your whole schtick online is that you’re clueless to angles, and performances.

Your comment section is a slew of dudes asking invasive questions. Do you have a boyfriend, are you waiting for your wedding day, does he know you do this depraved shit late at night for strangers to thirst over? Do you know that you're a minority here, that you'll never get farther than a glorified over-rated amateur? When will you lose your virginity and just get over with? But they're the same guys that jack off to your virtuous pussy on full display to the camera you bought with the money you made off this demographic.

No, you've never had a boyfriend, but that doesn't mean you can't explore yourself... Besides, you think it's fun that guys clamber to beg to be your first. One comment in particular had you thinking real hard. "You should film me fucking that pretty pussy for the first time... that'll get you a lot of views." When you'd started this account, you were sure you would've lost your virginity in the traditional way. Meet a great guy, go out, he sweeps you off your feet, and you go home with him, happily ever after. But you're getting along, and now getting it over with doesn't sound too bad, especially at the prospect of commercializing an asset you didn't realize you were sitting on.

So you campaigned it. You'd mention it any chance you got. On your profile, in your social media bios, in your videos, you let people know you were looking to break into the professional side of the industry. You didn't wanna be a virgin making home videos anymore, you want a job and you want your audience to pick who plucks that sacred coveted flower.

Until one day: "I've got a guy for you." You stare at that message a long time.

Anakin's not one to shy away from a job outside his comfort zone, especially when his director calls in a favor. So he helps you get situated as a courtesy, "This isn't like making your videos in your bedroom, don't be fooled by the pressure." His large hand takes yours and places it on his forearm, you try to ignore how thick and corded it feels under your palm as he pats it with your hand. "Give me a double tap like that if you need to stop. Anywhere you can reach." You nod, and give an uneasy look around the room that had a lot more people in it than you're used to, this is a set after all. You start to regret how famous your initial posts went.

"Hey." Firmly, he grips you chin, redirecting your gaze onto him. "Don't look at them, look at me. I'm the one that's gonna be inside you, alright?" His tone is perfectly casual, as if he's explained this a thousand times. You nod again. Why are you actually excited for this stranger to take your virginity?

[hwayangyeon]

NSFW gamer jake x gamer reader // you and jake play league together and argue a lot but somehow you end up on his lap // teasing, a lot touching, public bathroom sex (again) // 1.2k words

it's a little goofy // you don't have to know anything about league // not much about penetraton just a lot of touching // viego is a league character

"jesus, it's you again," you saw a familiar nickname in the lobby, "try not to lose for once?"

it's pretty reasonable for you two to end up on the same team since not so many people play at this hour. you recognize some of the players from previous matches, but only seeing this one makes you want to quit. can he ever get on the enemy team? or better, can he stop coming to this pc room?

it might be late, but after you finish your night shift, it's the perfect time for you to play. it's usually just the two of you and some kids watching porn in the back, hiding from their mothers. it's nice and quiet, well, when you don't flame each other.

"and why would you ban my champion?" the guy sitting across from you looked at you, tired. he's gotten used to you being the worst teammate he's ever had to deal with.

"so you don't suck at it. play something better."

"bitch."

"asshole."

it did not start well for your team. the support forgot to buy items, mid was afk for four minutes and you are losing your own lane. it's going to be really hard to turn it around, the enemy team is too far ahead.

"can you ever come top? the enemy jungler has ganked me eight times already, what the fuck have you been doing?" you looked over your screen.

"fuck off. i stole two dragons if you haven't noticed," his eyes focused on the game.

"i don't care about the dragons, everyone is fed. what's a dragon going to change? do something."

"don't feed then. stop whining and learn how to play, bitch."

he's too concentrated for a match going this bad. his brows furrowed, bottom lip fighting for its life between his sharp teeth. they'd probably look nice if he ever smiled. no wonder he has nothing to smile about in his life if he always plays this badly. oh shit, you're back in the game.

after successfully destroying towers and going as far as the enemy inhibitors, the game eventually ends with a red, humiliating text appearing on your screen. DEFEAT.

the room gets filled with all sorts of insults.

"please, delete your account," you take off your headset and stand up. enough for today. you don't like ending with a loss but knowing your luck you'd get placed with him again.

"shut up. i only lose whenever i play with you," he points his finger at you, "come, see my match history," he then signals for you to look at his screen, his eye wide, shocked from you having the audacity to flame him.

you walk around the desk and move in his direction, "yeah because you're not used to the high e–"

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, CAN YOU TWO FINALLY SHUT UP?" you hear the owner yell behind you, it scares the shit out of you making you trip over a chair and lose balance. jake grabs your hips and you end up on his lap. not that he cares if you fell on the ground, it was an instinct.

you want to stand up as soon as you sit, but the man continues and you're taken aback, "YOU KEEP YELLING AT EACH OTHER, EVEN THE GUYS WATCHING PORN AREN'T AS LOUD AS YOU. IF YOU DON'T SHUT YOUR MOUTHS I'M GONNA KICK YOU OUT."

you both stay silent because of the shock. you feel like two kids being scolded for making noise past curfew.

you want to stand up again but the man keeps going, "look, guys, i'm sorry for lashing out at you. it's just my wife, she's leaving me," his tone unexpectedly changes.

you're frozen, not fully acknowledging the position you're in. jake's left hand is still on your hip.

"like, i can't understand why would she do that to me," the man closes his eyes and sighs. jake's fingers slowly climb under the hem of your shirt. they're asking for permission and you're not denying it.

"we've been together for twenty years..." you feel his warm touch on your skin, it makes you straighten up a little.

"we were perfect together! do you guys get me?" he suddenly asks you and you both nod without thinking, jake's hand immediately stops as if you were caught cheating on a test.

"and she wants to take the kids too! ridiculous..." the man looks away from you as if he was looking for a solution to end his misery. jake resumes his movement. he squeezes your waist softly, his fingers sinking into your flesh.

"no, i can't allow her to do that... i'm their father," his thumb making its way lower, pressing on your back dimple, causing you to arch. shit, that's exactly where guys you hook up with put their hands when they're fucking you.

"they must live with me," his touch is so gentle, yet you're melting. it feels like he's sculpting your body as if you were made out of clay.

"have i signed a prenup? i can't have her take the house," his hand travels to your abdomen, pushing you back lightly so you lean back on his chest, relaxing your tensed-up body. he has so much control over you.

"i built it with my own hands!" you can feel him staring at your side profile, probably smirking seeing how worked up he got you. but you can't look at him, not with that red blush on your face.

"that bitch... i should've seen this coming. my mother was right about her," your head falls back to touch his, he gets a little carried away because of the sweet scent of your hair, it makes him lean against you. fuck, he smells good for a league player too.

"anyway," the man finally finishes his monologue, "YOU IN THE BACK, SHUT UP!" he completely ignores you and goes to yell at the kids for being noisy.

"you could've just said you were craving my attention," the guy behind you whispers into your ear.

———

"fuck," jake pins you onto the bathroom stall, your back is starting to hurt from you pushing each other at the walls, not being able to get enough of yourselves, "i'm close."

he grabs your ass and holds you up, his face buried in your neck, biting it because of how amazing his dick feels inside you. his release is almost there too.

your hands lost in his hair, trying to bring him even closer. some people say there is a fine line between love and hate, but it's even thinner between hate and lust.

"jake!" your moan announces your climax. oh it feels so good for him, having you scream his name after how you belittled his gaming skills.

he follows you right after and helps you stand on your own, but he doesn't pull out yet.

"i can go another round," his voice breathy, lips glistening with saliva he produced while kissing your neck. his hair completely messy, thanks to you.

"how can you be this good at fucking but suck so bad at viego, jake 123?"

after hotel.

[leaflessfae]

The Harper brain worms are taking over

Pairing: M!Harper x F!pc

Content. MDNI. Noncon, kidnapping, jealous Harper, a sprinkle of yandere Harper, p in v, unprotected, sedated pc who's half-conscious, some hallucinations (I wanted to write more hypnotic stuff but that would've made this way longer so I'm holding back. For now.), tentacles but only for a liddol, fingering, (pc's cum) tasting, and hopefully that's it.

A/N. Snickering to myself as I write and lie 'Harper is a good doctor' kdkxksk

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"It's looking..." There's a sharp intake of air, then a click of a tongue before Harper is finally turning to you, what you assume to be your documents in his hands, "pretty bad."

A grave silence prevails over every corner of the room that seems to only tighten and suffocate you in its white walls. Harper stays silent for a few seconds, only running his eyes over your bewildered, yet concerned, countenance. "Wh... what's looking bad, doctor?" Eventually, you inquire, a brow raising skeptically, "I'm feeling okay?"

He breathes out, turning to set the documents on his desk and taking a moment to force his features to soften, to demolish every attempt of a smile coming out before he turns to you again, a frown drawing his brows together slightly. "Have you been taking any medications without my supervision lately?"

You have. "No, I haven't."

"Well, your tests say you have. You wouldn't lie to your doctor now, would you?" He shakes his head, "because that would be pretty disappointing."

His tone makes you visibly reel back in your seat, a grimace fighting its way to your face. "It's just painkillers." You lie through your teeth, keeping your head held high and alert. You've never taken a liking to the doctor standing before you; always has he given you unpleasant vibes that screamed at you to bolt out of his confined room of an office. You've trusted your guts at that time and changed your doctor, only to notice that something is very wrong with the way your body feels lately. Doctor Harper, very unfortunately, was actually good at his job (or so he appears), and so you reluctantly made your way back to him, only to remember why you changed doctors in the first place.

"Don't underestimate medicine, sweetheart. What have you been taking?"

You've fallen silent once again. All plans of actually fixing whatever the hell was up with your body thrown out the window; you just wanted to get out of here. And so you lie again. "Maybe the tests are wrong. I'm feeling totally fine, and I haven't been taking anything."

"You haven't been attending your weekly checkups." His hands are already dressing up in medical gloves, eyes aren't even on you as he scolds.

"I'm just busy."

"Busy changing doctors?" A final snap announces the gloves are in place as he glances up at you, gaze fixing you in place.

Your lips thin into a line, hands gripping the edge of the bed you're sat on. Harper sighs before you can retort back, shaking his head. "I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed. Look at where you've gotten yourself." He shrugs his hand at you, gesturing to your body, "Now we gotta fix you up, don't we? You wouldn't have gotten into this in the first place were you to listen to me."

"I-I'm late for my shift, actually. Let's discuss this later?" You scramble to get off the bed once he starts approaching. "Next week–"

"No, you don't know how dire your situation is. We have to take action immediately."

You don't even think as you bolt for the door upon noticing a syringe filled and ready in his hand, your hands gripping the handle and harshly tugging. The door rattles in protest and refuses to budge, so you tug it again in case you didn't force it enough the first time, but it only meets your efforts with macabre immutability. When the hell did he lock–

"Trust me, darling, I'm not very happy about doing this either." You would've believed him if it weren't for his breath picking up, a foul grin stretching his lips. "I would've been able to detoxify your body with you conscious, but your test results are extremely alarming. I'm going to have to sedate you for this."

"No. I'm good!" With the door being completely out of the escaping picture, you resort to using what you always use in the streets. You swing your fist at his face once he's close enough, placing a great amount of strength in it; half of it induced by fear, and it works. Harper doesn't seem to expect your sudden attack as he stumbles back, clutching a hand to his bleeding nose. It buys you enough time to run to the windows, not caring if the jump would break your fucking legs.

But a surprisingly strong hand yanks you back by your shirt, sending you tumbling back and hitting his desk in the process. Harper lunges at you before you can lunge at him and wrestles you to the floor, seizing your wrists in a firm grip and sitting over your body, rendering you immobile. He was stronger than he looked, and it terrified you to think what he might also be in hidden sight.

"Stay put. You wouldn't want to hurt yourself further now, would you?" Harper's grin only widens as you struggle and writhe underneath him, blood smeared across his face and dripping on your skin. "I'm only trying to help you out."

"I would rather fucking die!" You spit, fiery eyes glaring and legs kicking– trying to kick.

Harper clicks his tongue several times in disappointment as if you were a child who needs to be disciplined. "Such foul words. You shouldn't say that to a doctor. It wounds them." He produces the syringe again, punctures your skin before you can scream in terror in hopes for someone to come running for your aid. "Shh...sh...I've got you." He's got his hand glued to your lower jaw to drown out every screech for help you could utter until your eyes grow impossibly heavy, body falling limp beneath him.

-

When you awaken, it's not at the hospital.

None of the bleak white walls and glaring lights greet you when you flutter your eyes open, head feeling heavy as ever as you struggle to make sense of what could've possibly happened. It's dim in the room, the only light being the street lamps filtering in through the window. It's– wait. Street lamps.

You would've jolted up in the realization that it's nighttime were your body functioning, but all you can feel is– nothing. You can't feel your legs. You can't feel your arms, your hands, your fingers. Panic settles in your veins, your heart palpitating faster with each passing second. You're quick to feel lightheaded with anxiety, heart drumming loudly in your ears. Where the fuck were you–

"You can't move, doll. Don't bother." A soft voice that could only belong to Harper rings out from beside you. Terror-stricken yet unable to move, your eyes flit to your side, and there he is. A gentle smile adorns his rather gentle features as he lays beside you. "Don't worry, it's going to wear off eventually. You're safe with me."

You're anything but safe with him. Your eyes can only follow his hand as he moves to toy with a strand of your hair, idly twirling it around his fingers before bringing it to his face, breathing in deeply then kissing it. He sits up, twisting around to grab a glass of water and a pill from the nightstand. "This will make you feel better."

You press your lips together at once, jaw clenching and refusing to open your mouth as he presses the pill to your lips. He frowns, pushes it further until it clashes against your teeth. "Yeah?" He says, before forcing your jaw open with a hand clenching the sides of your face. "Should I really teach you a lesson to listen to your doctor?" He forces the pill into your mouth before hurriedly holding the glass to his lips. Soon are his lips on yours, passing the water through his mouth and tipping your head in a way that would force you to swallow.

"There we go." He pulls away then immediately yanks at your skirt, pulling it all the way down your legs. Your panties are pushed to the side and, despite how dry you are, your pussy welcomes his finger. He only glides it along your folds, but you feel yourself getting weirdly wet way too quickly.

"Did you really think you could fool me?" He huffs, out of breath already even though he's barely touched you, a manic grin spreading his lips. He isn't even trying to hide it the way he usually does at your appointments. No. There's no need. Not when he has you all for himself, all docile and vulnerable for all his fantasies and wicked intentions. "Did you think I wouldn't notice when my favorite patient starts frequenting other doctors? You're so cute. So dumb."

Then he pushes his finger into you, and he moans at the sight, at the sensation of your warm cunt, and at how your pussy makes those adorable squelching sounds when he starts fucking his finger into you. An exhilarated laugh leaves him when you start making small whimpery noises, which only leads him to push another finger into you.

Whatever he made you swallow was taking a toll on your mind. Harper was starting to look blurry, hazy, and even a bit disoriented. You blink rapidly, trying to clear your vision but only starting to see something taking shape around him. "Mmh.." You blabber as if to alert him, but he only chuckles in that frightening tone of his.

"What's that, darling? I can't understand you."

"Mnngh..." another trial that only proves your tongue to be too heavy to form actual words. Harper suddenly fingers you faster, forcing moans out of you, and then you feel it. Slimy and wet and sticky, sliding across your legs and all the way to your thighs, slipping under your shirt and caressing your tummy. Your breath shakes, both from Harper's assault and fear. Blobs, thick and thin, taking multiple shapes and sizes, vaguely resembling tentacles, surround you.

You feel them getting closer to where Harper is coaxing fluids out of you. You feel them circle your nipples and latch onto them. You feel them snake around your thighs and spread them further, or that might be you gaining some control in the sense that you can slightly move your body, just not upon your conscious command.

With a strained voice, you whimper, both scared and on the very edge of climaxing. You don't know if you want to push him away - if you had the strength - or to hold onto him in fear of the tentacles. "H-Ha..pa.."

"That's my name."

Then you're gushing around his fingers, pussy squeezing them so delightedly and covering them in your sweet sweet slick. "Oh yes– fuck, fuck yes. Squeeze my fingers like that!" Harper might be hyperventilating with the way he pants, his usual self-control nowhere to be found as he hastens to pull his hard cock out of his pants, his hand wrapping around it and pumping in time with the clenching of your walls.

"Sweet doll." He withdraws his fingers at last, laughing as he presses them together only to spread them apart, watching your slick form sticky threads between them. He brings his fingers close to his mouth, lolling out his tongue and moaning loudly as he twirls it around them before sucking them completely into his mouth.

He takes his time tasting you, savoring every drop with a moan, not bothering to hide how hard he's getting and how his flushed tip leaks precum on your thigh. Meanwhile, you're fighting the urge to cry, to wail as something else plays with your slit. Slimy and thin and you feel it fluttering around your twitching hole. Harper doesn't react to it, as if it's not even there, but you can very clearly feel it. It must be there!

"Mm, so..." Harper says, finally letting his fingers out and giving them a last lick, "so sweet. Here. Taste yourself." His fingers dip into your cunt so suddenly it makes you jolt a bit, and he gathers your cum and slick before it's pushed into your mouth. "See? You taste good."

He doesn't stop there. Toys with your tongue like it's his right, feeling the warm muscle beneath his fingertips, not taking his fingers out until he's sure you've cleaned them of your cum, and covered them instead with your saliva. Harper is entranced as he watches you as if he's the one under the influence; his eyes are half-lidded as they drink you in, and his lips are slightly open, face so flushed and tinted deep red.

His hands grip your hips and he drags you closer to him, his cock nudges at your entrance and suddenly the tentacles that were invading your vision disappear. You gasp, blinking up at the ceiling then at him in confusion, and he smiles so wide when he sees your gaze on him, his ears flushing redder than they already were.

"I'm gonna make you feel good," whispers as he holds your panties to the side and slides in, feeding his cock into your tight slippery hole, his jaw falling slack and eyes rolling back, throat rumbling with a long "fuuuuck..."

He pulls you up, cradling your body against his as he bottoms out. "So– shit, so much better than I imagined."

Harper is up in a second, lifting you with him by his hands that dig into the plush of your ass. "I've always wanted to try this," he whispers before you're lifted until only his tip is snug inside you, then brought down until he's fully enveloped again, cock hitting so deep in your cunt. "Fuck– ah, h-hold onto m– right, you can't." He laughs out of breath, then you're slammed against a wall, weight distributed between him and the cold wall against your back.

He lets one hand move up to shrug your arms around his neck, telling you to be good and try to keep them there. "You can do that, no? Some of that strength must be back by now." He whispers in your ear before he's drilling into you, moaning loudly directly in your ears, even drowning out your own moans with his. "You– have no idea how much I waited for this."

He kisses you, tongue first, licking into your open mouth and groaning with wild abundance. Harper never falters in his thrusts and never makes you feel as if you're about to fall, his grip firm and stronger than you thought him to be. He bites your lower lip as he pulls away then smiles at you. "Do you know how hard it was to hold back? To stop at a few invasive touches but never go far enough to satisfy?"

He angles his hips, hitting spots you didn't know would send you squealing. "To see your cute little ass trot into my office, to sit so fucking prettily, and to talk my ear off about worthless scums trying to get a piece of you when all I can think about is how pretty you'd be split on my dick?"

He slithers his hands from your ass and to the back of your thighs, holding you by them and spreading you open, his gaze falling down to where his cock disappears again and again, getting sucked so hungrily by your greedy cunt. "F-fucking hell. Look at you taking me so well! I knew you could take it."

But then his tone changes, and his thrusts turn harsher, rougher without the usual care he carries. "But then you go off and think you can avoid me by seeing another doctor." He hisses, eyes blown with infatuation yet frustration, "It's okay. Hah, it's okay. You'll always come back to me. I'll make sure of it."

It's only then that you notice. That your eyes focus a bit and zero in on the stains on his shirt. Some of them are brown and dry, but the fresher ones– the fresher ones are tinted crimson, spread about chaotically as if something was squirted messily and splattered his shirt. Harper notices your gaze and laughs, loud and breathless.

"I did it for you. " He stutters and plunges deep within you, pressing into your body as close as possible while his seed splutters your insides, pumping you full of his cum as you moan and follow very close behind, clenching around him and milking him of every drop he's worth. Harper holds you against the wall for a while, until both of you almost catch your breaths.

Your eyes barely stay open as your head lays on his shoulder, more exhausted than you originally were. This time, you notice a small card on the nightstand. Your heart suddenly picks up again when you focus on it, recognizing the bloodied ID as the doctor's you frequented a few times, confirming your suspicions.

Harper seems to know that you're looking directly at it, and he smiles. "I told you I'll make sure of it."

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

A/N. Once my writing skills evolve and I can write mind break (and be satisfied with it) it's over for yall

[rubyreduji]

[minors dni] [read part 1 and part 2] [no one asked for this it's just been plauging my mind despite my mixed feelings on this series]

you scowl at your refection as your look yourself over in the mirror

your thighs and your chest are both scattered with a surplus of dark angry marks and you know you won't be able to wear shorts or any low cut shirts for at least a couple weeks

lately whenever you and wonwoo are fucking, he acts like it's his life goal to cover you in as many hickies as he can, you think it's part of his weird territorial thing. not that it matters, it's not like you're sleeping with anyone else (you still don't know if that's a good or bad thing)

recently you and wonwoo have fallen into a kind of...situationship. you guys aren't dating but you're not not dating, you honestly don't even want to think about it

it doesn't mean you're not just as grossed out and annoyed by wonwoo as usually are, it's just now that when you are he fucks your brains out or does something relatively nice for you like finally cleans all of the dishes out of his room

he's taken to finding new ways to annoy you though, like covering your whole body in purple bruises for his own weird satisfaction

you don't even bother to put on a shirt or pants as you storm across the apartment in just your undergarments and burst into wonwoo's room

you hate being in wonwoo's room and you nearly trip over the clothes that cover his floor as you open the door but you don't let that distract you from the goal at hand

"wonwoo" the man in question is sitting at his desk, headphones on over his hair matting it down. you cringe at his posture and the way his desk is littered with emtpy cans and bottles

wonwoo turns in his chair to face you and smirks when he sees your form

"look at me, this is honestly ridiculous"

wonwoo presses a key on his keyboard and then takes his headset off "if you're trying to seduce me right now, i'm in the middle of a game, give me like twenty mintues and-"

"i don't wanna have sex! i want you to stop chewing the fuck out of me"

wonwoo walks up to you and pulls your body into his and you scrunch your nose up in disgust at the way you can tell wonwoo hasn't taken a shower in a couple days and has attempted to cover it up by wearing cheap body spray

"but you look so pretty like this, all mine and for nobody else" wonwoo twirls a strand of your hair around his finger and you bat his hand away, not wanting his greasy fingers on your hair

"wonwoo i'm not joking-"

"i'm not either. don't you like it baby? belonging to me, being my pretty little fuck toy. admit it, it's a little hot"

you hate wonwoo and you hate him for knowing your weak spots. your thighs rub up against each other and wonwoo catches it and knows he's got you trapped

wonwoo cups your face and pulls you into a kiss and you allow him. this has been a growing problem where you keep giving in to wonwoo and his odd charm that makes you so angry you just have to fuck him

wonwoo guides you back to his gaming chair so you straddle his lap as he sits down. neither you nor wonwoo seem to want to pull away from the kiss so you continue to class your lips together as wonwoo reaches behind you and unhooks your bra

when your tits are free, wonwoo reaches up and gropes at your breasts. you moan into his mouth from how tender your chest is from all of the hickies

"are you gonna let me fuck you now?"

"y-yes, please"

wonwoo smirks and reaches between your bodies to pull his cock out of his pants. it only takes him a few pumps to get it up to full size and he rubs at your pussy for a few seconds before lining himself up and thrusting into you

it's definitely not enough preparation and it burns when wonwoo enters you, but instead of cussing the man out you just dig your fingernails into his shoulders

wonwoo is only in you for a couple seconds before he stops his movements "shit, my game!"

with you still in his lap, wonwoo turns to his pc and slides his headphones back on

"wonwoo, you cannot be serious right now i-"

"shhh, just be a good girl okay, it won't take long, you can't be that needy can you?"

"you are unbelievable"

"ah, ah, you better be quiet, i'm playing with your brother and you don't want him to hear you when i unmute now do you?"

that's all it takes for you to shut up and wonwoo smirks as he unmutes his mic and goes back to playing his game. if you listen hard enough you can hear your brother through wonwoo's head set and you want to gag at even acknowledging your brother's existence while his best friend's cock is buried inside of you

a shiver is sent down your back when you feel wonwoo's hand trail down your spine and you have to bite down on your lip so you don't whimper outloud

you're starting to get impatient and you starts to rock your hips against wonwoo, trying to get more of something

wonwoo tuts at you, but doesn't stop you. in fact, his hand moves to your hip to help guide you as you start to fuck yourself on his cock

"yo wonwoo, you good over there?"

"i'm fine, just a bit distracted" wonwoo's voice sounds a bit tense and you hope it's not obvious what you two are doing "might have to hop off soon"

"bro if you have a boner right now i'm going to kill you"

"nah i just have to talk to y/n about something" you glare at wonwoo, why is he bringing you into this

"oh gross, i forget you two live together, i should have never set that up, i don't want you corrupting my little sister"

"you can say what you want, but i think the arrangment is going pretty well" at that wonwoo bucks his hips up into your particularly hard and you gasp

"dude are you sure you're okay?"

"i'm sure, don't worry about me" wonwoo seems checked out of his conversation with your brother now as he steadily bounces you up and down in his lap

"whatever, i'll let you hop off but you better play me again later"

"yeah, yeah, sure whatever" with that wonwoo slides his headphones off and turns off his mic again before grabbing your hips "you're a dirty girl, you know that? do you want your brother to know about us? or are you just such a little slut you couldn't be patient?"

wonwoo meets your pace with small thrusts and you bury your face into his neck

"hey, answer me" wonwoo flicks at your clit

"too needy" you mumble into his neck "needed you"

"that's what i thought, desperate little thing"

"woo, wanna cum"

"my pretty little slut wants to cum?" you nod "fine, but only on one condition"

"anything" you tell him, too desperate to think properly

"i get to mark you, on your neck this time"

"yes, yes, anything, please wonwoo i need to cum" you barely even hear his demand before you're agreeing

"that's my good girl, cum all over my cock" wonwoo's fingers play with your clit as his mouth attaches itself onto your neck, sucking and nipping at the skin

the combination of his fingers, mouth, and cock drive you crazy, pushing you over the edge. you let out a filthy porn star level moan as you clench down on wonwoo, your hands gripping onto his biceps

while wonwoo is still marking your neck, he cums inside of you, pulling your hips flush against his as he does. when he's finally milked dry he finally pops his mouth off of you

you came here to yell at wonwoo about marking you all up and the only thing that's come out of it is another hickey, this time on your neck

"i knew you liked being marked as my property"

fuck

[banned-for-horny]

After your words I just need more possessive traumatized, messed up Robin who clings to PC like a small coala.

"Robin!"

Robin is five when he skins his knee.

He doesn't remember how or when. What he does remember is the itch of the cut, the way his skin tingles and burns as blood begins to puff at the seams. He remembers his eyes watering, blurring the world around him as he starts to hiccup and wail, because Robin had been (and always will be) a crybaby.

But, he also had you. You'd come running the moment he fell, chubby hands dragging one of Ms. Bailey's friends behind you. Unlike him, you were never allowed outside without supervision. Today, that seems to work in his favor.

Yes, Robin remembers thinking. He's very lucky to have you.

"Robin, what are you-stop!"

Robin is seven when he loses his first tooth.

That's late, apparently. You're already missing three, two falling out and one forcibly knocked out when an older orphan tried to push you down the stairs. Robin had bitten the older orphan in retaliation, but the force from hitting the floor still knocked your tooth clean out.

But it's not a scary process, you tell him when you cram your fingers in his mouth. It doesn't hurt at all! And if it hurts, you'll go get Ms. Bailey for him and then she'll buy you some nice pastries from the café.

It's a flat-out lie. Robin recalls blood gushing from his mouth when you finally ripped his tooth out. It started to make him dizzy, so you ran out to find some help until he was sent to the hospital to have his mouth looked at. You're still there when he wakes up, though, and you manage to buy him some vanilla ice cream with what meager savings you have.

His throat was still numb from the anesthetic, but Robin recalls tasting milk and honey when you smiled at him.

"No, Robin, stop! S-Snap out of it already!"

Robin is ten when he first walks in on you in the bathroom.

It used to be fine before. He remembers taking showers with you all the time, blowing suds at your face and wrestling to shove you under the surface. Ms. Bailey had said to stop that when he reached seven, but you were never one for listening to the caretaker, so neither was Robin.

But now, Robin thinks that night, it's...different.

He has his thin blanket strained between his legs, face warm and neck damp with sweat. The weird squirming in his stomach won't stop. He wants to sleep, but every time he shuts his eyes, he sees your bare back instead and feels sick all over again.

In the future, he will take classes and learn from a pretty blonde man all about what he's feeling. It's natural, he will learn, for boys his age to start developing some interest in people. It's not something to be ashamed of. In fact, in this hell, it's something he should embrace.

But for now, Robin just rolls onto his stomach and tries to ignore it.

"Robin, this isn't-please, don't! Get off-"

Robin is thirteen when someone tries to take you right in front of him.

Your bodyguards are careless, have been ever since you hit thirteen. Robin knows one is still around, though he's too busy schmoozing with some other guy across the park.

But Robin isn't, and the second the lady's grip on your forearm gets too tight, he's there with a fistful of mulch and a scream that splits the air like the temple bells. He shoves the chips at the tall woman's cheeks and rams an elbow into her shoulder. It's just enough to get her to let go, stumbling back from the assault.

Then she rounds on Robin with her lips pulled back in a snarl, but you're already on her, throwing your entire weight into a tackle that sends the woman flying into the fountain. Your physique has always been better than his. He's still very lucky you would never use it against him.

By the time a 'random bystander' (ie, the bodyguard that supposed to be protecting you under Ms. Bailey's orders) comes in to sweep you and Robin away, you're starting to grow a black eye and his ankle hurts pretty bad, but he's hand-in-hand with you. You're all smiles for the first few hours, reassuring him that everything was okay and that you're fine, but when he's in his shared room with you, you end up slipping into his bed.

You're trembling. Robin wraps his arms around you and holds you tight.

"Don't touch me!"

Robin is sixteen when he sees you kiss another classmate.

He doesn't know who she is, just that you're just as flustered and apologizing to hell and back. It must have been an accident. It happens all the time.

That doesn't stop the hole from tearing into his chest, rattling his nerves and flooding every pore in his marrow with...with what? Unease? Disgust? Betrayal?

Whatever it is, it's chased by a rush of shame. You would never betray him. Furthermore, you aren't his. Not like that, at least. You've been raised by his side ever since he can remember. Wherever Robin went, you were guaranteed to follow (or, at least, try). Even when school started and your schedules differed, you made it clear that walking home with Robin would be part of your new routine. If Robin ever fell, you would be there to catch him.

And if anyone tries to hurt you, Robin is supposed to be there to protect you, because he's your friend-no, because he's yours.

"..."

Robin is nineteen when he finally pulls out of your cum-slicked hole. Sweat drips from his temple and traces his cheekbone. His arms are aching, his stomach burns, and when he looks down, your eyes are locked onto the curtained window that overlooks the town. The flesh around your throat is already starting to puff with hand-shaped bruises. You could have easily fought him off, but you would never lay a hand on him, even if it meant hurting yourself.

He's lucky, he thinks before collapsing on top of you. You're still half-dressed in your sleepwear, the fabric clinging to his sweaty skin as he tries to curl around you. The bed sheets below you are still fresh with your scent.

Right. This is your room. He'd come into your room, climbed into your bed, and-

He doesn't realize he's crying until your hand touches his cheek. You're not looking at him, glazed eyes focusing on the wall instead, but the rest of your body moves on autopilot, muscle memory from years of comforting him when he wept.

"...it's okay, Robin," you murmur. "It's okay. I'm fine."

Because you would always be there to catch him. No matter what.

Robin is very lucky, indeed.

[hiskillingjar]

ren forcefemming is my favorite thing in the world like ... because i feel like he has such a warped perception of femininity . i think ren is like "yeah being a girl is when you act like a dumb whore and wear tiny clothes"

a heem heem...whimper...

i had to write something for this. don't look at me. i'm sorry women.

1200+ words, masc reader, cw for like. you know.

"You're an absolute degenerate, do you know that?"

Your voice was terse and irritable as Ren slid the skirt's waistband up your legs, a dumb smile on his lips and his tail wagging erratically as he did so.

Your bound wrists twisted tightly behind you and you could feel that your bare (for the most part) legs were trembling, but you were determined not to show just how nervous this was making you. 

"Seriously, this is some perverted shit, Ren. What fucked up hentai have you been watching lately?"

"Ah-ah-ah," Ren chided, his smile spreading into a sharp-toothed grin as he straightened out, his eyes, glittering with malice and sick amusement, meeting yours as he wagged a finger condescendingly at you. "That's pretty bad language for a girl. You shouldn't be speaking like that, especially not to me."

"I'm not a fucking girl!" You snapped with a fierce look in your eyes, giving the zip-tie currently cutting into your skin a firm pull, knowing full well that it wasn't going to snap any time soon, and would, in fact, just dig even more painfully into your sensitive wrists. 

Whatever, it felt better to put up a fight than to sit passively, doing nothing.

"Well, you kinda look like one right now," He drawled with an eye roll, moving closer to you and bracketing your trembling thighs with his own as he knelt in your lap. "And, like, I know it's not 'PC' or whatever," He chuckled and bit his lip, reaching to his side to pick up what looked like an eyeshadow palette and set it down on his thigh. "But normally, when someone looks like a girl and acts like a girl...they are one."

You gritted your teeth together, tensing your jaw as he took your cheeks in a painful grip and opened the palette with an elegant flick of his wrist, sweeping his pointer finger in glittery pink.

"I mean, you're not a very good girl," He continued with another mean chuckle, like he was saying something especially cruel. "But that's okay. I can help you with that. Close your eyes, please."

In spite of how much you wanted to cuss him out, you were very quickly deathly still as Ren gently rubbed his finger over your eyelid, incredibly cognisant of the tiny scratch of his claw over the thin, delicate skin that covered your eyes, your tense jaw trembling a little more as the tip (as sharp as a needle) traced the curve of your eye’s socket. 

You wanted to put up a fight, of course you wanted to, but fuck, not when he was this close to putting a finger in your eye if you pissed him off.

"And, you know, make-up and clothes are just one thing...or, er, two things." He smiled, dabbing another colour of glitter in the corners of your eyes with his pinky. When there wasn’t the threat of a claw, the gesture was almost a little pleasant.. "It also comes down to attitude, you know...the way you carry yourself. Expression." He pulled his fingers away from your lids then, and you felt the press of what felt like a felt pen against your lids. 

"You're such a freak...." You mumbled, though you did your best not to flinch as he drew a neat line across your lid, drawing it out to a sharp point, spanning up to your temple. 

"Be nice, sweetie," He chided softly, paying attention to your other lid. "That's what I like...nice, sweet girls. Girls who know their place."

"Seems to me you like sluts," You grumbled, opening your lids to tiny slits to peer down at your lap. The plaid skirt he had forced you into was absurdly short, and had you been able to stand, it would have barely covered your ass, let alone the fishnets and the cheap, studded garter he had buckled around your thigh. "Or bad crossdressers."

"Mm, I mean, yeah, I guess I kind of do,” He agreed with an airy titter, setting down the pen and picking up a brush, which he dabbed into the eyeshadow palette. “I like nice girls, yeah…” He paused and idly licked his lips thoughtfully. “But I like it even more when they stop being so nice and act like a girl should act, ya know…when they stop playing smart and act like dumb whores instead.”

You grimaced at his hungry expression.

“Fucking incel,” You mumbled through your grit teeth, which only made him laugh harder as he powdered your cheeks with hot pink. “Jesus. I thought you were just a pervert, turns out your’re also a total misogynist too.”

“Ah, that’s a big word for you, sweetheart.” He teased with a mean snicker, continuing to blush up your cheeks. “You really are a girl…so fucking sensitive.”

You yanked your head backwards and glared hard at him.

Ren sat still for a moment, looking almost surprised as he gave you a long and considered look before he smiled innocently and hopped off your lap, setting the make-up supplies to the side again and pacing to his desk.

“I’m kind of sick of you cussing at me, actually,” He mumbled to himself, opening up the top drawer and fishing out a cheap-looking ball gag, pale pink, fake leather and hard plastic. “What’s the saying…” He drawled out again, unbuckling it as he paced back to you. “‘Girls should be seen and not heard?’ Yeah, that’s the one.”

“NGH-!” 

You grunted roughly as he pushed a hand into your hair (gripping a chunk of your bangs) and forced your head back, pressing the ball between your teeth and buckling the leather belt around the base of your skull quickly and efficiently. You could already feel the cheap straps digging into the corners of your mouth, painfully tight.

“There we go, much better.” He said brightly, his eyes creasing with delight as he sat back in your lap.

Despite your muffled protests and how much you were now pulling at each tight binding to be away from him, he pushed both hands up your skirt, feeling for and groping the first stirrings of (unfortunate) arousal in your…well, his panties.

“Haha, you can’t even pretend that you’re not enjoying yourself, can you?” He asked with a giggle, pressing his chest against yours, his tail wagging even faster. “I hope you know that this doesn’t make you any less of a girl, by the way…”

He punctuated his ‘validation’ (because what else were you going to call it?) by giving your arousal another firm squeeze. His fist was tight enough, squeezing and rubbing in the first oozing drips of pre-cum, that you couldn’t hold back a groan into the firm plastic of the ballgag, and pressed your face into his shoulder to hide how much your blushed cheeks were flushing. 

“You’re gonna be stuck like this for a while, by the way…so just try to enjoy it instead of fighting me, hm?~”

[bruisedloverr]

Since I've been microwaving this AU in my head for some days (or a week?) now, I've decided to share it! DoL but it is a horror movie. It gets gory, warning for that (and perhaps disorganized thoughts)

To start, the situation of PC is not really that different to begin with, they still have to pay Bailey... but now there's murder in the middle! There has been a string of murders lately, and the Temple has been targeted, but some other people not related to it, too. Rumours says the people responsible for this target virgins and chaste people to offer their blood and bodies in demonic rituals, but could that possibly be true..? (Spoiler, it is. The Children of Auriga are the ones behind this). What it is clear, people disappear two weeks before a Blood Moon occurs, and they're either never seen again, or their corpses are found in the forest, near the Temple's garden.

So now poor PC has to work to pay a sudden debt they didn't knew they had, dodge rapists AND try to avoid being murdered, in the case they were deemed to be a suitable target. They can also find love in the way, yay! Bailey keeps them safe, in their own way (even if PC doesn't realize it. Some sort of "things are bad but could be much worse"). But that may or may not be enough.

I'll go explaining the LIs and their roles so far, there are lots of characters after all and I can't possibly fit them all in:

Sydney: The actions the player do with them kind of affect a LOT here. If the Player keeps them pure, they're basically the perfect target for the cult, but they will stay pretty much the same, albeit more paranoid. However, if the Player corrupts them... they not only become a lustful person, but also murderous and way less moral. Not towards the Player, of course, but towards the very religion that he used to find so much comfort in (Jordan is different in their mind and don't have those desires towards them, though). Investigating on their own, going through secret hallways in the Temple, the will find about the cult behind the murders (or the theories about it, at least), and aid them, basically luring innocent initiates that trust them to their death. A gruesome one, too. Basically, whether they're a target or a murderer depends entirely on PC's hands.

Robin: PC's childhood friend, as always. The more the town gets covered in blood, the more paranoid they become, and they start to act like in their traumatized state, distracted and withdrawn. They might pretend they're strong sometimes, depending on how the player treats them, but they're still a scared teen, and it will show. PC may be able to help them be truly strong... or not.

Whitney: Bully with a secret, that secret being the fact they're not dominant all the time, and that one of the reasons they're also a bully is the fact they crave control and status (with a mix of being a genuine asshole and a bit of peer pressure). They're not afraid to play dirty. Scared shitless of what's going on in the town, but they pretend it doesn't affect them. They start as a threat to PC, but that may develop into a relationship where PC can find some sort of protection... from others, anyway.

Kylar: Still a yandere, still full of grudges. Puts PC's wellbeing over their own. Would fight cultists if they had PC with them (and lose, prolly, unless they somehow get their parents involved). Everyone thinks they're the murderer or somehow involved due to being so weird but they aren't, and PC can either fight these rumours, perhaps starting to fall in love as the spend more time with Kylar (to confirm what they know, that they aren't behind the murders, of course!) or believe them, making them worse.

Avery: Sugar Daddy/Mommy, used to getting their way, their wealth is both a shield and a weapon, buying their compliance (and silence) while fueling their sense of entitlement and control. However, among rich people, their status is... bad. They get side eyed a lot. Know more than they let on.

Eden: Isolated and possessive, their love is a cage with bars made of guilt trips, forced domesticity, and maybe a few strategically placed bear traps. Also a literal cage if PC misbehaves. Their definition of keeping PC safe is not letting them go, ever. More comfortable with knives and gutted deer than human interaction.

Alex: They have seen the news, and feels bad for what the townies have to go through, but also glad it will not affect them (or so they think). Having them as LI is one of the best endings PC can have, as they will be away from the town, and completely safe from harm. Maybe.

Black Wolf/Great Hawk: They're animals, but maybe a true love kiss (hallucinations) will make them human! Sometimes. The Hawk's tower is completely safe, so it's definitely the best ending for PC. The wolf cave is also safe, but not that much. There's still the chance for danger.

And these are just the LIs so far! I have information about others, too, but this post is long enough.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Would I be an asshole if I reached out to a DND group I left on bad terms to apologize?

I was part of the group from ages ~17-19(+ maybe half a year on either side? idk man I have memory issues). we met at least once a week, usually late at night for me (one of the players was from New Zealand) and as an extremely sleep deprived, socially awkward, ADHD, mildly suicidal teenager with unmanaged chronic pain, I suffered from chronic foot-in-mouth disease. Pretty much every time I'd try to say something out of character, what would come out of my mouth was unnecessarily hostile or just straight up the opposite of what I meant. (note: this is not what I'm asking for judgement on, I was 100% TA here)

Now, that wasn't the only problem I had with the group (the DM tended to have "main" pcs, and was a big fan of pc death and secret one-on-one channels, so more than once something would go down in secret channels that started an entire subplot and resulted in PC major injuries, death, and massive plot progression, and character arcs tended to only be developed or resolved where no one but the individual player could see it) but it was the one that caused me to get kicked from it.

The DM was really into, and very good at, making actually terrifying villains. One night, another player startled me by sneezing directly into their microphone. What I *intended* to say was something along the lines of "that was the scariest sound I've ever heard," but what I *actually* said was "That noise was scarier than anything [DM] has ever come up with!" The joke... did not come across well, and I was asked to leave, and I did so without making the subsequent spiral the DM's problem. It was honestly crushing, at least at first — that was pretty much my main source of social interaction during the pandemic, and despite our differences in preferred play styles, I'd actually had a lot of fun playing those games.

But looking back, I was absolutely in the wrong with... just sort of most of it. It's been three years, coming up on four (? I think?), and I haven't had any contact with anyone from that group since leaving. I do want to apologize for how I acted, both the incident and my behavior in general, but I don't know if I would be the asshole for reaching out after so long just to apologize (I'm not really interested in being friends, and I wouldn't rejoin even if they offered — the difference in play style really is just too much).

What are these acronyms?

[utilitycaster]

"There is zero attempt to extend anything but bad faith."

standing ovation for tidily describing this fandom in a nutshell tbh

Thanks, but I'm talking about a particular subset, the handwringy overwrought appeals to emotion crowd for whom the gods can never under any circumstances be redeemed, so unless you are also talking about that specific small piece of the fandom, I disagree! I actually think the fandom at large has been pretty receptive to the story as it's being told. And honestly, even when I've been in fandoms that frustrated me greatly with widespread bad faith interpretations (Midst and WBN have both had problems here)* they've come around when more obvious evidence came about. Better late than never.

I do think that an issue in this fandom, and fandoms at large, is not so much bad faith but as someone else said, motivated reasoning (though in the case of something the motivated reasoner dislikes, will become bad faith). A lot of people decide how they want to the story to go very early, often in a manner that validates their own existing real-world politics (even if they're not super applicable to the situation at hand) or personal preferences. I mean, that's in the end the source of a good number of shipping bad takes - people decide two characters must be in love and so even if they start dating other people and not talking to each other anymore, the motivated reasoning shipper decides that ACTUALLY this is all a front and the actor's blinks are in secret code and the relationship will definitely break up and the True Love was Always Endgame no matter how many times the creators say "no, it never was our intention to have those characters get together." But even then I think the silent majority of most fandoms are just. vibing and happy to be here. It's just that motivated reasoning people are loud.

And I'm not setting myself apart here; I'm loud and I'm certainly not without bias. My motivated reasoning tends to be based on foregone conclusions that I think are more likely to actually play out, I think, and I try to be self aware about it, but like, I do tend to assume stories will be good and follow some narrative lines and use the hints they drop, and that is itself an assumption because some stories are poorly made. Like, for example, with the gods, I do think that there is very little chance Matt is going to tell a story that's like "hey, Ashley, you know your first ever TTRPG character, who brought you into this friend group and whose life's purpose is to restore worship in the Everlight? Bad news, Everlight's a genocidal cunt and she's gotta die." That's obviously not my only evidence here. We've got the whole opening scene. We've got the fact that the non-Aeorian NPCs who aren't divine companions we've spent time with have been a sickly old man granted peace in death, a gnomish woman granted solace after being cruelly mocked by Aeorian forces, and the beggars who didn't have food despite wagons of supplies going to Aeor, whereas the Aeorian NPCs have been guards, slimy bureaucrats, teens badly beaten for minor crimes, and a drunk cop; the defaced and forgotten temple in a poor neighborhood that is heavily surveilled from afar because its laborers are unwelcome. Hell, as I said before it aired, the fact that the main PCs are gods and not Aeorian mages is a very deliberate and telling choice on its own. But yeah on some level, while I think Bells Hells have the space to decide to kill the gods since they are those same cast members (thought I doubt that is what they will do), I do not think Matt will tell an earlier story that says "hey, everyone at the table except Marisha? your beloved character(s) whom you played for all or most of a campaign followed a rotten-to-the-core lie."

Going off the meta of creators is a bit risky - a lot of dumb D20 discourse is based on assuming Brennan's leftism is the same as Very Online I Do Not Dream Of Labor Leftism and not his actual "the BBEG is the exploitation and undervaluing of labor and the dehumanization of others; labor itself can be deeply fulfilling, you just shouldn't be forced to rely on your capacity to do labor to the exclusion of all other things to be housed and fed" leftism and reasoning from there - but it's certainly more reliable than going off reasoning of "I as a random private individual want the gods to die for whatever the fuck reason and therefore that is the correct thing to happen and any other outcome is bad."

This is very rambly because I just got up and maybe it's that it's a nice morning and I can actually enjoy a leisurely breakfast before going into work unlike most of last week and much of the rest of this week, but for all I proudly identify as a hater, I am very much a lover of fiction and I want it to succeed and I want it to not just validate me. Like, if I hate on something it's because I wish it were better, but I don't hate on something just because it presents a different viewpoint than the one I already held. And I think you have to bring that good faith to fandom as well. If people are being idiots and assholes then yeah you don't need to keep acting like they're valid for that (I mean, they're valid in that everyone has the right to their opinions, but not in the sense that you need to grant those opinions intellectual consideration on par with thoughtful and evidenced meta and theories) but I do not actually go in assuming the fandom is going to be wrong and dumb and disappointing, and I think that's why I've found such enjoyment in it. Most people are chill! Chill people just tend not to loudly say WOW I'M SO CHILL AND THIS STORY IS GREAT.

*one bit of salt to cut the sweetness here but also still weirdly positive: the way I've dealt with that and specifically WBN is that I am trying to write one piece of meta after each episode that doesn't attack people or anything, just lays out my thoughts respectfully. Be the change you wish to see. I think a lot of people in fandom see someone disagreeing with them and go "OH YOU CAN'T LET US HAVE ANYTHING" and frankly this is the cause of almost all fandom unpleasantness I've experienced (in the sense of people seeing me say I don't like something and acting like I shut them down instead of simply didn't vibe), but it's important to remember that isn't how it works. Even if you do think the fandom has widespread bad opinions, you can change this by being thoughtful and patient and putting forth better ones. I mean there's limits, and if a fandom is genuinely hateful, get out, but if it's just surface-level takes for something that should be deeper? Be the one who shows the depth.

[k-n-e-o]

Omg can you do TXT reacting to you slow dancing with a PC of them while they r busy :]

Txt Reacting to you slow dancing with a PC of them

Genre: Fluff

Requested? Yes

Warnings: None

A|n: This is so cute :(

Other members under the cut

Yeonjun

They had ended practice early and Yeonjun and decided that he'd surprise you with your favourite dinner and well, him, of course. Using his spare key (or the code, which ever works) he entered your apartment. He was about to call out for you when he heard you humming along to one of their songs. soundlessly taking his shoes off, he shuffles around to see you slow dancing in the kitchen, his photocard in your hands, held to your chest - In the top loader he watch you decorate during a facetime call when you had received your album a couple week ago. Yeonjun leaned against the door frame, the biggest smile on his face. When you finally opened your eyes, you caught a glimpse of him in the corner of your eye. Yeonjun chuckled as you jumped back, scream leaving your lips. Walking up to you, placing the bag of food on the counter on the way, he holds out his hand to you.

"May I have this dance?"

Soobin

You and your friend had just picked up your Freefall albums and were busy opening them in your living room. You were ecstatic to say the least when you managed to pull a Soobin photocard. Your friend shook their head as they secretly recorded a short video of you and sent it to Soobin. He'd received the text while having his hair done. His smile grew bigger as he rewatched the video a few times. He sent back a whole bunch of heart emojis and an 'I love you and I miss you' to you. Beomgyu leaned over from where he was seated beside Soobin, much to his stylist dismay. "What are you all giggly about?"

"Aren't they just so cute?!" (Cue beomgyu fake gagging)

Beomgyu

Beomgyu was out for his schedule, but he had told you that you were welcome to wait for him back at the dorm and that Soobin was home and could let you in. Taking him up on the offer, you were now seated in the living room, watching something on your phone, Soobin was busy eating his lunch in the kitchen. Scrolling you had come across a video that had one of your favourite songs playing the background. Jumping up, you take your photocard out of your phone case and start dancing with it held close to you. Soobin, from his great vantage point in the kitchen records a video that he sends to Beomgyu, "She's dancing with your pc." When Beomgyu had seen the video it was during a small break in-between photoshoots. He'd be all smiles from that point forth, but also very impatient wanting to get home to hug you as soon as he could.,

"So cute"

Taehyun

There had been a slight disagreement before Taehyun left for the concert he had tonight. It was left unresolved and so you had sent him a small video of you slow dancing with his photocard with a text following that said "who needs the really thing when i have a photocard to dance with instead." Just for fun, giggles and laughs, just because. Taehyun thought the video was really cute, but the text after it, mmmmm, no. So Taehyun set aside the adoration he has for you and walked out of the dressing room and toward the back stage. Peaking through the side curtains he snapped a quick picture of all the MOA's filing into the stadium. He sent the photo with the caption "Well I guess I'll just dance with all these beautiful MOA's instead" It didn't take you very long to call him. He laughed as he heard you whining on the other end.

"You said you preferred a photocard to me!"

Huening Kai

He'd come back from practice pretty late, and he was all sweaty and gross so he'd avoided giving you a hug saying that he would give you all the hugs you wanted as soon as he finished showering. You had pouted and slumped onto his bed, he felt bad, but I mean, was literally dripping in sweat. The shower was only about 10 minutes max, and Kai had emerged shuffling quickly to his room so he could hug you, however, when he opened the door, you were there in the center of his room, dancing with a photocard of him, mumbling little things like "You give me hugs whenever I ask for them, unlike a certain someone" He huffed a laugh and made his way towards you, draping his arms around your waist and placing a kiss on your nose.

"I wasn't gone for that long"

[fran-does-things]

I’m definitely very late to the party, but I’ve finally finished the profile for my @shepherds-of-haven MC! Oh well, better late than never, I suppose. She’s loosely adapted from an old DnD PC of mine from a CoS campaign that I had such a blast role-playing! It took a while to hammer out all the details, but I’m really proud of how she turned out!

Anyway, without further ado, please allow me to introduce you to Cecilia Niriviel, Hero of Haven, and gaslight gatekeep girlboss extraordinaire!

(also, if you saw me delete and then reupload this post like 3 times, no you didn’t <3)

(Warning: The following excerpt contains vague references to events that occur in Chapter 9 of the Alpha build) “On the contrary, my friends, I think this is actually one of the better outcomes that could have resulted from that conversation. As much as it hurts my pride to say this, even I must admit that I’m a bit out of my depths when it comes to all this… old magic stuff. But blackmail?” At this, she smiles; a sharp, predatory smile that would have sent chills down the spines of the toughest of men. “Blackmail, I’m very familiar with. If that woman thinks that she’s the only one capable of playing dirty, then it would seem that her little homework assignment into my past wasn’t as thorough as she thinks it is. Oh, this is going to be so much fun!” - Cecilia Niriviel, in a conversation with her allies at the Sun Court.

Some Additional Fun Facts that I Couldn’t Include in the Original Profile

Chase has a whole host of nicknames for her, including, but not limited to: ‘blondie’ (her hair really is very blonde), ‘doll/dolly’ (owing to her large, round eyes), and ‘princess’ (this one comes up often when he’s teasing her for being particularly fussy/diva-like)

Celia has a particularly tumultuous relationship with beauty, like many women do, I’d imagine. She’s always been regarded as very conventionally attractive, which means that, for better or for worse, her looks are often the first thing (and main thing) that people notice about her. This has unfortunately led to her having developed a sense of self-worth that’s wrapped up in her appearance in some pretty destructive ways. A lot of her behavioural quirks are manifestations of this core belief. One of the absolute worst things that anyone, particularly a lover, could do to her is to make her feel as though her looks are the only thing that she is valued for; I think that would really crush her self-esteem and lead her down a horrible self-destructive spiral.

She loves cats. Or any other cute, small animals, really, but especially cats. If she sees a cat, she will immediately drop whatever it is she was doing to either pet the cat or just coo at it from afar if it doesn’t want to be touched. Her very obvious love of small animals is what helped to endear her to Tallys and Shery in the early days of her joining the order, who either wasn’t too sure whether she could be trusted (Tallys) or found her a bit intimidating at first (Shery).

When it comes to her stance on love, she's what I would describe as a 'closet romantic'. After a string of bad experiences, I think she’s convinced herself that she’s just not cut out for all this love business , but deep down she’s always retained that innocent, child-like romanticism. When she was a little girl, she’s always been fascinated by fairytales about brave knights and princesses, of soulmates, and of the power of true love; and I think there’s a part of her that’s still in love with the idea of love and is still waiting for her one true love to show up! (Just you wait, Celia; little do you know, your prince charming is sneaking up on you like an assassin in the dark ;))

She doubled as a black-market informant during the years she spent working as a courtesan, selling information about her wealthy patrons to anyone willing to pay her a hefty sum. Listen: long story short, the girl was stuck in a predatory labour contract, and she needed to make money somehow if she wanted to get out of it sooner rather than later! Occasionally, she would also take on small jobs like stealing, smuggling things, etc… It helped that she had developed a few contacts in the local thieves’ guilds from her days as a street-child who would go on to help her get her foot in the door, so to speak. This line of work has never really bothered her; most of her patrons were, in her eyes, nothing but predatory, hedonistic pigs, though there are some crimes so heinous that even she’s not willing to abet in it, or some people who she just couldn’t bring herself to harm. This is a time of her life that she looks back on with a little shame and remorse, in her later years. Just a little.

Celia was partly inspired by my own struggles with overcoming trauma. I’ve always been fascinated by the ‘femme fatale’ character archetype, and she is, in a way, my take on a deconstructed version of that trope. I think of her journey from ruthless mercenary to renowned hero as less of a redemption story, or of a battle between the good and evil within, but more of a story of healing and growth. A story of someone learning to overcome their maladaptive behaviours and moving past traumatic life events. Learning to stop being beholden to events that have long transpired and to allow yourself to just live life the way you want to live

Her closest friends in the Shepherds are Chase (twin!), Lavinet (bestie!), Tallys (big sister!), and Riel (co-mastermind for world domination!). She also has a particular soft spot for all the female Shepherd captains. I’d say the characters she has the most interesting dynamic with are actually Chase and Briony, but this is a story for another time!

There is betting pool among the officers on who Celia is involved with. Funny enough, for a very long time, Riel is generally considered the top contender, not Blade, which is just hilarious on so many levels. I think a lot of the officers tend to excuse their more suspicious interactions as just... Celia being Celia (read: a notorious flirt) and Blade being Blade (read: a stick-in-the-mud) and can’t fathom the idea of them getting together. On the other hand, Riel and Celia just play off each other really well, so I can definitely see some of the Shepherds extrapolating a romantic connection from their professional synergy. It doesn't help that they’re often seen together on the off chance that they both have some time off, or that they primarily communicate through cryptic looks and subtle eye-glances. I imagine that once Blade and Celia's relationship becomes official/more public, it would cause a mild panic among the recruits because "I thought she was seeing the other commander? Wtf is going on???"

Bonus: In a pre-relationship crushing stage, poor Blade is probably 4th on the officers’ betting list of ‘who is Commander Niriviel secretly fucking’, right below Chase and Briony. Chase and Celia practically invented platonic flirting, and there many who mistake Briony and Celia’s frequent sleepovers/girl-talk sessions as something far less innocent than it really is. At this point, I’m pretty sure she’s been suspected of sleeping with pretty much all of the captains at one point or another. Being the busybody social butterfly that she is, Celia’s definitely heard most if not all of these rumours, but she really doesn’t care enough to do anything about it most of the time, plus she finds some of these rumours to be so preposterous that it’s actually kind of funny.

I had no idea that Celia was going to be a Blademancer, and yet here we are! I really thought it was going to be either Chase or Red, but I think it just wouldn’t have worked out quite as well. The slow burn comes from the fact that both Blade and Celia currently have their heads stuck far up their asses, albeit in different ways. It takes Blade a while to realize/accept that he's even in love, and while Celia is self-aware enough to realize when she's falling for someone, she's not emotionally mature enough to deal with it in a normal way. There was a lot of screaming and cursing and "this can't be happening to me; I don't fall for people!! People fall for me!!!" They both learn to get over their fears and hesitations, however, when they realize just how much life and vibrancy the other brings to their life. I like to think that Celia helps Blade come out of his shell, to learn to be a little more selfish when it matters and helps him enjoy the beauty in life; meanwhile Blade is a grounding force for her; he sees past her smokescreens, reminds her of her goodness, and makes her want to be a better person.

If you've made it this far, thank you for indulging me in my ramblings about a fictional character! There may be more Celia content coming in the future; I've been thinking a lot about the events of Chapter 4 and might write something on that. suffice to say I've honestly really fallen in love with the game and with its cast of characters. I've found myself with a lot of free time this week (clearly) and have finally caught up to the update, and all I can say is that Celia and I are both currently having the time of our lives watching the drama unfold. Can't wait to see what else is coming next! <3

[anim-ttrpgs]

Clearing Up Some Confusion: Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is Not Powered by the Apocalypse

There has been a little confusion cropping up here and there regarding our game Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy and its relationship to the Powered by the Apocalypse system, A.K.A. PbtA, which we would like to hopefully clear up in this post.

PbtA is a very popular system for indie RPGs lately, it’s safe to say most of the indie RPGs we see cross our dashboard use it, in fact, and since Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is an indie RPG that also happens to use 2D6+Modifier dice rolls, we can see where this assumption might come from. However, Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is not a PbtA game, nor is it a ‘hack’ of any other game. It is an original from-the-ground-up system that uses 2D6+Modifier because 2D6+Modifier is just a very good way to roll dice. It’s very predictable, and dice results that are randomized yet still predictable are beneficial both for players playing the game and for us designing the game.

Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy actually does take inspiration from other games, even PbtA games like Monster of the Week—though in Monster of the Week’s case, that “inspiration” often took the form of doing the opposite of what Monster of the Week does, because we actually found MotW far too restrictive and limiting in its character creation and other elements for the kind of game we wanted to play—but also Call of Cthulhu, Trail of Cthulhu, Gumshoe, Shadowrun, AD&D2e, etc, both in the “do what they do” and “do the opposite of what they do” sense. In fact, if your TTRPG doesn’t take inspiration from a good number of other TTRPGs, that’s probably a pretty bad sign.

Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy also takes a great deal of inspiration from non-TTRPG sources, some of which are probably pretty obvious and some of which might surprise you, such as Blood(1997) and Warhammer 40,000(the tabletop wargame specifically, not so much the lore). Other inspirations include but are not limited to: Kolchak: The Nightstalker, The X-Files, XCOM(the reboots, not so much the originals), Columbo, Hardboiled, Dracula, Sherlock Holmes, Scooby-doo, too many horror movies to list, etc.

That got a little off-topic, but this is supposed to be a promotional post for Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy as well, after all—plus, I get excited.

Anyway, the point of this post is that the 2D6+Modifier dice system is where the similarities between Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy and the PbtA system end.

To elaborate, here are some—but not all—of the biggest differences:

No “Classes” or “Playbooks”

All PCs in Eureka draw from the same list of Skills, and spread their skillpoints around them how they see fit; as well as a collection of 3 gameplay-altering Traits that can be mixed and matched in any way, rather than being a set collection of “moves” or “class features”. This does not mean that all PCs are the same, Traits can make them vary wildly in how they play mechanically.

There are what could be considered two or three “categories” of PC in Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy(Mundane, Mage, and Monster), but these are not “classes” or “playbooks” in any way, they mostly determine what lists of Traits the PC gets to draw from, and due to the wildly gameplay-altering nature of these Traits, two Monster PCs in Eureka are likely to be far less similar to each other than two PCs both using The Monstrous playbook in Monster of the Week, and far less similar to each other than two Fighters in D&D.

Making Multiple Rolls per Scene

In PbtA games, it is fairly common for a single dice roll and a single “move” to dictate the outcome of an entire “scene”. In Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy, this is not the case. PCs may make multiple rolls of different Skills or multiple subsequent rolls of the same Skill within a single “encounter” or “scene”.

NPCs Make Rolls Too

That brings us to our third big difference for this post, the fact that NPCs also make rolls. In most PbtA games, NPCs do not make rolls, only the PCs do, but in Eureka, that is not the case. NPC stat blocks are not as robust as PC stat blocks, but they do still make rolls in the same manner the PCs do, especially in combat, which brings us to the last point I’m going to make in this post because I’m running out of time.

Deep, Intricate Combat Rules

Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is not a combat-focused game by any means, the party will probably only get into 1-2 skirmishes across an entire mystery, but when those skirmishes do happen, they will be played out using deep, tactical combat rules with multiple types of attacks and combat moves, including mechanical crunch for things like positioning and cover, multiple types of damage, environmental damage and effects, etc.

All of this should be telling you that Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is not only entirely different in its core systems, but also an overall crunchier and less improvisational-ruling system than PbtA, with tons of freedom in its character creation as well as plenty of rules and guidelines to help GMs make fair and realistic resolutions on the fly. That is not to say that Eureka is a complicated TTRPG, nearly everything in the game runs off the same core 2D6 system, making it very easy to learn and memorize—the rules crunch just means that if the outcome or appropriate modifier of a roll is not immediately obvious, you can rest assured that you can find a solid answer or at least a guideline with just a quick flip through the rulebook, either during or after the session, whatever is your preference.

[pavlovianfuckery]

darth tantrum, space OSHAs worst nightmare

MASTERLIST

I wrote this and 4 other oneshots back in 2016 after TFA came out, but between moving house and my pc breaking this is the only surviving part, this one was number 4.

pssst darth tantrum isn't nearly as good of a dirty talker as he thinks he is but nobody tell him

2.5k-ish of spanking, some inappropriate use of the force and some general vag shenanigans under the cut

After yet another mind-numbingly dull shift you're making your way back to your quarters, though maybe a bit more cautiously than usual. It's been a few days since the last encounter, and you'd spent more time than you'd care to admit replaying it in your mind over and over. Granted, with the way the General has been acting lately like something crawled up his ass and died there, it's been a pretty convenient way to tune him out.  Finally reaching the door to your quarters you let out a sigh of relief as you step inside, a bit proud to have made it without being caught unawares again. Shrugging the uniform jacket off you look forward to a nice long shower and just relaxing for the rest of the evening, far away from angry ginger men in too big coats. If this keeps up you might apply for a transfer soon, even sanitation crew would be preferable at this point. Kicking your shoes into the corner you turn the light on and freeze in place. Aw, shit.

Lounging in the room's only chair is the very same Force-warrior you'd been trying to put out of your mind for the last few days. He's sprawled out nonchalantly, long legs crossed at the ankles, the very picture of leisure. At least this time he's elected to forgo the stupid cape. "You've been avoiding me." He crosses his muscular arms, his voice gruff. "That ends now."

You briefly fantasize about ejecting him and his theatrics through the closest airlock but doubt it would go very well for you, even if he was unarmed. Eyeing the hilt clipped to his belt, you recall the last encounter. Heat pools between your legs, making you shift uncomfortably on the spot.  "Do you have a habit of breaking and entering the staff quarters, or what?" The words really aren't coming out with the confidence you were aiming for so you do the next best thing and mirror his stance, all scowl and crossed arms, though the effect is much less imposing when you do it. "You really need to get another hobby."

The taunt clearly gets to him and he snaps of the chair lightning-quick, every line of his body tense with barely restrained fury as he stalks across the small room, saber in hand. "And you need to learn some respect." He all but spits the words in your face. Even with his shoulders hunched he towers over you. "I am your commander and you will address me as such."

Deciding to press your luck, you roll your eyes. "Or what? You're clearly far enough under the General's thumb to keep from murdering his staff, if that's what you're trying to threaten me with. Maybe you should try asking nicely?" The blade in his hand screams to life, carving a jagged furrow in the wall next to you, the durasteel parting like butter.  "Really?" You try to sound bored as you survey the damage. All things considered it's not too bad and you could probably requisition a repair droid to get it fixed in short order, but now your quarters smell like burnt metal. So much for a quiet evening in.

The rod of unstable light narrowly misses you this time. Ignoring the sweat starting to prickle on your forehead, you stare him down. Or up. Fuck, he's massive. With a growl he punches the wall only inches from your head, the impact deafening.

"I will tolerate no further insubordination from you." Grabbing your collar, he drags you sputtering and kicking to the chair and simply sits down, hoisting you across his lap like a sack of corellian potatoes . The seams of your trousers crack and pop when he roughly yanks them down, exposing your ass to the chilly air. Then smooth leather glides over your bare skin and you bite back a gasp. "What's this? Have the laundry droids broken down, perhaps?"

He lets out a puff of laughter as he gives you a quick slap, making your cheeks jiggle. Face burning you stay quiet, refusing to give him the satisfaction. The saber is back in his belt-clip, the ugly thing taunting your helplessness, just inches from your rapidly heating face. "Or could it be that you've wanted to be ready for me?"  Even the vocoder can't fully disguise the mirth in his voice. "Let me go, you complete and utter asshole!" You try to struggle free, but the broad hand at the small of your back keeps you pinned in place.  Your outburst is met with a bark of distorted laughter and another slap. "I really need to do something about that mouth." Roughly squeezing one of your cheeks, he hums. "Maybe I should wash it out with my cock?" Another slap, lower this time, nearly making you yelp. "But you'd like that, wouldn't you?" 

Ducking your head, you hope that he doesn't see the wanton look on your face proving him right. The next strike hits across the crease between the buttock and thigh, the sting reverberating through your core. "Answer me!" He snarls. You squirm but stubbornly stay silent, praying he won't notice the wetness pooling between your thighs. A few strokes later those hopes are dashed as his gloved hand comes away from your reddening skin slick. Pausing, he studies his glistening palm for a moment, then groans. "What a nasty little slut you are." He tilts his hips, grinding his growing erection into your side. "Stop fighting me and just admit that this is what you want."

The strikes rain down in an unrelenting pace until your skin feels like it's glowing, but you refuse to give in, biting your lip to prevent any sound escaping. After a particularly punishing blow, he runs his hand almost soothingly over you. "This can end, you know," he murmurs, "All you have to do is give it up and submit to me." You can't suppress the small whine that escapes when he places the pad of his finger at your asshole, rubbing lightly. "Just give in, let me own you..."

Using your own juices to ease the way he starts sliding the digit in torturously slowly, your resolve withering by the minute. "Fuck!" you gasp, nearly boneless in his lap now. "What's that? I don't think I heard you." His voice turns mocking as he presses a second finger to you, circling the entrance. "Perhaps this is what you want? Or maybe you would prefer my cock?"

"Fuck you, and your shitty sword!" You choke the words out, seemingly stunning him into silence. The moment seems to drag out forever, and then he jerks his finger out with an annoyed grunt, an abrupt wave of his hand wiring your jaw shut.

"Fine. If that's what you want, then I'll give it to you." Still pinned in place, you can only watch as he unclips the weapon from his belt, turning it around in his hand thoughtfully. You inwardly curse yourself for pushing him too far and brace for the inevitable, the image of the ruined wall fresh in your mind's eye. Half expecting the worst you squeeze your eyes shut. When the stroke never falls and you feel cold metal rubbing across the lips of your cunt, your mind grinds to a halt.

Once slicked up to his liking, he starts pressing the hilt of his saber into you, inch by unyielding inch. Finally satisfied that it's deep enough, he gives it an experimental wiggle, admiring his work. The wrongness of it all makes every hair on your body stand on end, but he just chuckles, making your gut twist.

"Maybe I should force you to come like this." Wiggling the hilt again he prods your insides, stoking the fire building there. "I want you to imagine that for me, your little cunt twitching as you come apart on my weapon. Do it now." The image comes to mind almost of its own volition, and for a few burning seconds you want it, more than you can remember wanting anything before. The bulge in his trousers pulses against you and you realize that he felt your want, the shame making you want to sink through the floor. The metal scrapes your insides and for a moment you think he might actually fuck you with it in earnest, but instead he slowly pulls it out and clips it back on his belt, not even bothering to wipe it off.

"You don't get to do that today." With that, he shoves you off his lap roughly. "Get on the bed." It's not far but you're still not fast enough, earning your backside a shove from his boot to hurry you along. Summoning the chair to the foot of the bed with a yank of Force, he settles down on it, legs obscenely wide. His gaze is heavy on your body as he rubs himself through the fabric of his trousers. Trying to find some relief you go to touch yourself but something invisible keeps your hand away and he tuts with disapproval.

"I didn't say you could do that."  You resort to squeezing your legs together, but he stops you again. "Stop that," he chides.

Unhurriedly he pulls the zipper of his trousers down until his erection springs free. You used to think that he probably had a member as crooked as a barghests leg and twice as ugly, but even after finding out first-hand it still feels unfair somehow that someone so boorish would have a nice cock. Pretty, even. It's on the larger side but not comically so, thick and with a pleasing curve to it. The head is flushed and leaking already, almost begging you to wrap your mouth around it.  You scoot closer and start to put your fingers around him, but he pushes you back.

"No. You don't get to touch me if you can't behave." He moves his gloved fingers slowly up and down his shaft, the slide of the soft skin almost mesmerizing.  "Get on your hands and knees," he nods at the foot of the bed directly in front of him, "and present yourself to me. Show me that hungry little cunt of yours."

All resistance melts out of you, leaving you no choice but to obey as you put your sore ass in the air for him, legs parted.  "You should see yourself right now, look at how wet you are." His voice is so low that the vocoder almost cuts out, "I could destroy you like this." Not prepared for it, the touch at your entrance makes you jolt. Sneaking a peek you can see that he's still working himself methodically, and it dawns on you exactly what he's doing. The realization makes you squirm helplessly and he slaps your ass again, hard enough to rock your entire body. "Hold still." As he spreads your lips with his fingers he continues, "I want to see how much you can take."

The tendril of Force slithers into you, thin at first but slowly swelling until it's nearly the same thickness as his cock. You whine into the covers, aching for more but not moving.  There is a pressure at your temples that you first attribute to the lack of oxygen until he speaks again. "Oh, you like this, don't you?" It's almost a purr, the smugness radiating off of him as the intrusion inside of you grows. "If you behave, I might even let you come like this."  Your body betrays you then, fluttering in anticipation around the emptiness inside. Head swimming you can barely think or focus on anything else. An invisible finger flicks your clit experimentally, making your walls contract. The pressure inside keeps building until you're sure that it's too much, that you can't take it.

"No, I'll decide when you've had enough." He scolds and gives your clit a small pinch. The pleasure bordering on pain nearly makes you snap your legs together, but in the end, pleasure wins out.  The hand on his cock speeds up slightly as he increases the pressure inside even more, making you whimper. He doesn't stop until he's got you stretched open wide, wetness oozing out in thick drips. Breathing heavy, he runs a finger around the rim, admiring his handiwork.

"Look how easily your body yields to me, how eagerly." Collecting some more of your juices he slicks it over his member, using it to stroke himself. "You look so good right now, maybe I should just leave you like this, ready for my use. I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" He muses. "I'm going to make you come now, but you will not move, is that understood?"

Unable to reply or barely form a coherent thought, all you can do is think the words yes and please but it seems to be enough to satisfy him and he rubs your clit teasingly, still without physically touching. You're painfully aware that he can see every quiver and pulse as he holds you open like this, but somehow it spurs you on, the need for release overwhelming. It takes every ounce of frayed self control to stay still when the wave of pleasure finally start to crest.

"Yes, squeeze that little cunt for me," he rasps and finally lets your mouth go, hand almost a blur on his shaft, "that's it, go ahead, come for me, show me how you come for your commander." Black spots dance across your vision as you suck down great lungfuls of air, your entire body trembling under the strain as you struggle not to move. Convulsing again and again, the pleasure crashes over you until you're all but screaming into the covers, not caring who might hear. 

"Fuck!" It's drawn out, positively filthy, the vocoder garbling the strangled noises as his hips stutter and he spills all over his gloved hand. After milking every drop he collapses in the chair, broad chest heaving as he pants. When he recovers a few moments later he lets out a huffed laugh and cups your still gaping cunt in his hand, kneading it slightly as he withdraws the nothing holding you open. Still trembling, you collapse in a boneless heap.

"Maybe you can be taught after all." He wipes his messy hand all over your ass, rubbing his come into your skin. "Consider this a reminder of who you belong to." As he gives your throbbing ass one last slap and turns to leave, you long desperately for the shower.  "What kind of reminder would it be if I just let you wash it off?" He pauses on his way out the door. "Try it and I'll know." As the hatch slides closed behind him, you contemplate the general state of your life and what kind of deity you could have possibly pissed off enough to end up in situations like this. You punch the pillow in frustration, then do your best to settle down. It turns out that falling asleep half-clothed with your backside crusted in come isn't all that hard. And you definitely don't drift off looking forward to any kind of "next time". Not even a little bit.