#i mean i predicted it would be so but playing the game made it worse

[propertyofwicked]

SECRETS - LN

lando x fewtrell!reader (cos who doesn't love a bit of brother's best friend?).

no content warnings for this part. pls lemme know what u think of this pls and thank u.

previous part -> next part

masterlist the playlist

y/n was a bit of an enigma in the fewtrell family. yes, she’d grown up karting with her older brother and his best friend, but it wasn’t a career for her. not like it was for max, who took his love of karting to championships and content creation and especially not like lando, who made it all the way to F1.

no, y/n fewtrell wanted a career, for now at least anyway. which leads us to now, she’s sat in a second year lecture, not listening to a single word as a slew of messages from her brother almost vibrate her phone off the desk.

she didn’t really need to think about it at all, of course she’d be there. whilst she had no interest in her actually involvement, she loved motor sports, and loved supporting lando. the amount of times she’d been recognised in her uni towns sports bar, watching the F1, was getting concerning. not to mention the time she’d finished a 10 hour shift and somehow fell asleep in said sports bar, made worse and more recognisable to lando fans by the quadrant hoodie and LN4 beanie - max had not let her live it down since the moment the photo came on his twitter feed. it just seemed odd that lando all of a sudden wanted, no, needed her presence - after all, he'd had minimal contact with her for almost a year.

but, she weighed up in her head, getting to see lando was somewhat of a reward. yes spending the day with her brother would be good, although she could sense her summer would potentially be spent with him anyway. but lando, what could she say about lando. he was always around growing up, and yes admittedly there had been a few moments shared in her early adulthood that would indicate something more but it always remained unspoken. lingering touches here and there, the night they spent dancing together in a club, though written off as drunk friendliness, and most notably an interrupted moment where he whispered “max would kill me if he knew the truth”. y/n never got to find out what the truth was, as max himself came barrelling into the room, equally as drunk as everyone else at the gathering. from that night on, she barely saw or heard from lando, well, until now supposedly.

ultimately, y/n decided that dwelling on what could’ve been, whilst lando jets off around the world, was simply not worth it. she focused on her studies, and began declining offers to watch lando race on the other side of the world. y/n fewtrell was a strong independent woman who did not need the validation from her brothers best friend.

didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy it.

as predicted, the academic year ended and y/n found herself moving a bag of clothes into max’s spare room. people started spotting her in the background of streams again, fans excited to see the fewtrell’s back together and in full force - y/n now adorning a lovely bruise down the side of her arm from where max had shoved her too hard off a chair and onto the floor. sore losers run in the family.

“MAX! that hurt,” y/n whined from her new found position on the floor.

“oh did it,” max asks mockingly, “sucks to be you i guess” he adds with a shrug, although letting her use his arm to pull herself back up.

he moved back to playing his game when a text popped up on her phone making her giggle.

“what? what are you laughing at?”

“lando said “push him back”. lando,” y/n said, looking at the camera, “if i could, i would - but i quite like having somewhere to live and my own personal chauffeur,” she laughed, max laughing with her.

a month later she was in the passenger seat of max’s car, him pulling in to park outside the silverstone track. it was hours before the public would show up, so she instantly spotted the curly haired man. yes, the bright orange jumper was like a bat signal for lando, but y/n’s eyes were immediately drawn to him naturally. max had just about pulled the handbrake on when lando bounded over to the car, pulled the passenger door open and lunged himself around y/n.

“you came! it’s been too long since ive had my little lucky charm in my garage,” he says, looking directly into her eyes. a red flush runs up her cheeks, hoping that the boys will put it down to the loss of air conditioning. any awkwardness she had anticipated between the two dissolved almost instantly.

“i know, i’m sorry. i should just drop out of uni and follow you around the world, i know. forgive me,” she jokes holding her hands up, and lando quirks an eyebrow up, as if saying “you should”.

“don’t do that, y/n. one of the fewtrell’s needs to be properly educated,” max jokes, ”besides, not having his lucky charm around all the time keeps his ego in check.” lando chuckles in response, finally moving to stand fully out of the car and allowing y/n and max to climb out and join him.

“so, home race in 2 days - how you feelin’ mate?” max asked lando, raising his hand to do one of those bro hand grabs. they continued talking, y/n trailing just behind them as they walked into the building and around to the mclaren area. it was always a spectacle, coming to races. the teams, the drivers, the media, the celebrations - it was somewhat overwhelming. it was weird to see the place so empty, then again, it was 7am on FP1 day so the only people walking around were the odd driver and mechanics.

they continued to walk through the paddock, y/n just listening to the boys discussing an upcoming quadrant project, eventually reaching his drivers room. the sofa looked so inviting, especially to the girl who was dragged kicking and screaming out of bed at 5am. whilst lando distracted max, showing him his helmet for the home race, y/n crawled over to the sofa, curled up in a corner and shut her eyes.

“y/n? you good?” lando asked, after clocking her new found position.

“shut up.”

“ouch.”

“she threatened to rip my eyeballs out and shove them down my throat this morning when i tried to get her up. being told to shut up is nothing,” max laughed, ruffling the top of his sisters head and messing up her hair, “she just likes her sleep.”

“yes, she does, please let her have it,” y/n mumbles bluntly, met with chuckles from the boys.

“we’re gonna get breakfast. ill bring you back something if you want to stay here?” lando asks, her eyes perking up at the thought of food.

“yes please,” she says, with a soft smile directed towards him.

-

“next time, me and you are getting separate hotel rooms,” y/n groaned, rolling around the sofa of her hotel room trying to get comfortable.

“next time, tell me you want to come with me early enough for me to book you a separate hotel room, y/n,” her brother grumbled back.

“i’m gonna see if there’s a gym here. i need to tire myself out if i’m going to sleep on this…thing,” she said, poking at the solid leather of the sofa.

max didn’t respond to his sister, instead he rolled over to face the door and shut his eyes. y/n grabbed her key card and her shoes, and walked out the door, happy to be away from her brother. she loved him, she really did, but after spending the entire day in lando’s small driver room with him - she really just needed some brother-free air.

she barely reached the lift at the end of the hallway when she got a text, diverting her entire plans for that evening.

i’m bored. come on a drive with me?

going on a late night drive with lando was not out of the ordinary, but usually max was there. had he sent max the same message? either way, she responded with a quick yes and thumbs up.

cool. im outside btw. hurry up.

have you just turned up assuming i was going to say yes?

was i wrong?

shut up im coming down now

[doitforbangchan]

For the long haul - Lee Know

Thank you to @jehhskz for another wonderful request. I appreciate you so much sweetheart

Masterlist

Lee know x Reader (afab)

Warnings: Cursing, angst, smut, unprotected sex but reader on birth control, dom!Minho, mean!Minho, Fingering, kissing, hickeys, enemies to lovers, fluff, pet names

WC: 2.8k

MDNI 18+

This could not possibly get any worse. 

“Could you stop breathing so fucking loud?” 

Correction, now it couldn’t get any worse. 

Your professor just had to pair you with Minho, knowing very well how much he hated you. You both were in the same theater program at your university, and Minho had decided he hated you your very first semester when you got a better score on a dance performance than him. He was a petty son of a bitch and didn’t forget nor forgive, thus had been metaphorically shitting on you almost daily for 4 years.

I guess what he didn’t count on was you could play that game too. When he bit -you bit harder, when he ran his mouth you were right there with a rebuttal. He loved to point out your flaws, trying to get a rise out of you. You would never admit how his words hurt you. 

Truthfully you had a crush on Minho back then. How could you not? He was beautiful. Sharp features, dark cat like eyes, lips that looked so soft. Oh don't even get started on his body.  The boy had abs that were drool worthy. 

Not like any of that mattered when he was a colossal asshole to you. Like he was being right now.  Currently you were both sitting next to each other on a plane, on a class trip to London to see Shakespeare's theater. Your teacher had selected trip partners, meaning he was stuck with you for the next week. Here on the plane and in the hotel room when you were in London. 

Yippee

“Can you mind your own fucking business?” You rebutted, shutting your eyes tighter and leaning back further into your seat. It was bad enough you were stuck next to him for 6 more hours but he really would not shut the fuck up. 

“Maybe I would if you would close your mouth when you sleep.” He was grouchy, probably feeling similarly to you. 

“Whatever Minho.” You put your headphones over your ears and your eye mask on, blocking him out completely. Though you knew the possibility of a nap while seated next to him was next to zero. If you hadn’t put your mask on you might not have missed the way he gulped when you said his name. Wouldn’t have missed the effect you had on him. 

------------------------------------------------------

After that greuling 12 hour flight you had finally made it to your destination. And just as you predicted, you got zero sleep on the flight. Though you pretended to sleep to avoid the man that was next to you.  At least it was night time in England by the time you made it off the plane, around 10pm. Meaning you were headed straight for the hotel and right to bed. In a bed directly next to Minho.. 

Your one moment of peace came when your group got on the bus to the hotel, you were able to snag a seat away from him. It was at this moment you were able to reflect on the situation. It really was unfortunate that Minho was such a jerk to you, there was a part of you that still harbored that crush on him from your freshman year. You had seen him be kind to others, you knew he had it in him. Just not for you. 

Kinda broke your heart a little bit. 

Pulling up to the hotel you knew your peace was over. You were purposefully the last person off the bus, grabbing your room key from your teacher - who for some reason seemed way too smug when she wished you a goodnight- and slowly made your way up with your bags in tow. 

You stood in front of the room door, bracing yourself for the onslaught you were sure to receive when you entered, took a deep breath and opened the door. Minho was already in there, putting his clothes into the drawers next to his claimed bed. Of course he chose the one next to the window. 

He didn't acknowledge you when you walked in and set your stuff down on your bed. You took out a pair of your pjs and waited a moment before asking, “Did you want to shower first or do you mind if I?”  

He didn’t offer you a verbal answer, instead just waving his hand at you to go ahead. You guessed that was better than being mean to you so you collected your clothes and went into the bathroom. 

You took your time in the shower, the hot water helping you escape reality, though the water pressure sucked. While you were in there you could hear a faint voice talking back in your room. These walls must have been realllllly thin, since you could pick up pieces of a conversion Minho seemed to be having, but you didn’t hear anyone elses voice so he must be on the phone.  

You were only getting a few words. 

‘I dont know how-’ ‘stuck with her’ ‘fucked up’ ‘control’ was all you were able to get before you realized you may have been in there too long. 

As you shut the water off you heard Minho say “I gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow.” 

You dressed and brushed your teeth before exiting the bathroom. Minho let out a scoff when you entered the room “Took you long enough. Did the princess need some pampering?” He was condescending with his words. He grabbed his own pjs before walking past you.

Before he could close the door to the bathroom you blurted out “Why do you hate me so much?” there was a crack in your voice. He seemed to freeze and stare at your back. You were facing away from him when you asked it, thankfully so or he would have seen how your bottom lip wobbled when you asked it. 

Minho gave you no answer, only softly closing the door and locking it behind him. 

When he shut himself in you let a few tears slip out. You put your dirty clothes away before climbing into your bed and burying your face into your pillow, to hide the tears that steadily leaked from your eyes. 

It seemed he too took his time, as it was about 30 minutes before he came out to your curled up form hidden under your covers. He could tell you were crying by the small shakes emitting from your form every few seconds. Minho ran his hand over his face before approaching you slowly, and took a seat on the edge of your bed. You felt the bed dip but didn’t say anything or look at him. Until he spoke first. 

“I..I don't hate you.” His voice was soft. The softest you had ever heard, as if he was afraid to speak. 

You wiped your eyes before uncovering your face enough to peer at him, “Then why.. If you don’t hate me, why do you treat me like you do?” 

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair nervously, “It started because I was…jealous. Jealous that such a pretty and well liked girl was doing better than me, better than me at my passion. It came so naturally for you. While I had to work so hard. It drove me crazy.” He wasn't looking at you while he said it. You took a beat before answering. 

“You think I'm pretty?” 

He spun his head around to look at you in disbelief “ That's what you focused on?!” 

You pulled yourself out of the blankets, “I mean, I never meant for you to feel like you weren't enough, Minho.” You brought yourself closer to him but not touching. “ I always thought you were an incredible dancer. I actually strive to be as good as you are. Strive to be good enough for you.” 

He looked into your eyes “You are good enough. It’s me that's the problem. I didn’t know how to properly manage my own feelings and by the time I figured it out we already had this hostile dynamic.  And I haven't been fair to you with the way I’ve been treating you.” He had shame on his face. 

 “No you haven’t.” You agreed. “But I havent been a saint to you either. That's not how you treat someone that you.. That you like.” 

“You like me? After all we’ve done and said to each other, you like me?” He asked incredulously. You nodded and covered your face with your hands, embarrassed at admitting it to him. “Hey don't hide.” He reached out and took your hands in his, pulling them from your red face. “ I guess now would be a good time to tell you that…. I like you too, have since the day I first saw you in class.” 

At his words your brain short circuited and before you knew what you were doing you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his shocked lips. You pulled away quickly after registering exactly what you had just done. 

“Oh my god I am so sorry Mi-” He cut you off by crashing his lips back into yours, encapturing you into him.  

You moaned lowly into his mouth when he ran his tongue against your bottom lip, as if asking for permission. He shoved the appendage into your mouth immediately claiming dominance over you. He brought his hand up to the side of your neck where he gripped lighty, angling your head to his liking so he could shove himself further into you. 

After a few seconds he released you, biting on your bottom lip as he went. 

“Tell me what you want, baby girl.” His voice was raspy. “Tell me and I’ll give it to you.”

“I want all of you, Minho. Everything.” 

He groaned, his eyes darkening with desire. He gave you a smirk “Oh I’ll give it to you alright. If you need me to stop or if it gets too much for you, say ‘red’ and I’ll stop.” 

“Yes minho.” You nodded, ready for him. The wetness between your legs was growing by the second. 

“That's a good girl.” He pushed you down onto your bed and climbed over you, attaching his mouth back on to yours. This time it was all teeth mashing against your own. It was downright dirty, the way his tongue bossed its way into you. He wasted no time in finding the hem of your shirt and lifting it up over your head, then he threw it somewhere without a care. 

He groaned when his rough hands made contact with your bare breasts. “Mmm no bra?” He mumbled. “Bet if I go lower I’ll find you're not wearing any panties under these dainty shorts huh?” With one hand still groping your chest the other slithered down your waist and into the front of your sleep shorts where he was right- you had no panties on. “Fuck you are a dirty girl huh? Almost like you knew I would wanna fuck you tonight? Hm?” 

You shook your head, “Just don’t wear them to bed is all Min, promise.” You gasped when his pointer finger made contact with your clit, the digit starting to rub slow circles on the nub. 

“Hmm I don't think I believe you baby girl.” He tutted, “I think subconsciously you are a little freak who wanted me to fuck her. Well let me share another secret with you, so am I.” 

Minhos mouth left bruising kisses on your neck while he played with your core, after a particularly hard suck he took the finger that was down there and shoved it into your hole, causing you to moan loudly. 

“Min-minho!” 

“Shhh babygirl, don’t want anyone to hear you huh? People are trying to sleep.” He was teasing you with his words. He added another finger to your heat, curling them up to find that sweet spot that made you see stars. He kept at this for a few minutes, coating his fingers in your juices. 

You could tell he was struggling though, as every so often he would rut against the bed looking for any friction. 

“Min..” You were able to get out between squeaks. "Wanna- wanna ride you, Min.” 

At your words he bit into the skin he was suckling on your neck, causing you to bite your lip to keep quiet from the scream you would have let loose otherwise. 

Minho removed his hands from you and propped himself up, his lips red and swollen. He gave you an almost menacing stare. “Little baby wants to ride me? Think you can handle it?” 

You nodded enthusiastically,”Mmhmm please. Been dreaming of it for years.”  

“Fuck.” He whispered to himself. “Years huh? Well since you've been so patient I guess I’ll grant your wish.” He stood only to remove the clothes from his own body. When he pulled down his joggers his cock slapped up against his stomach, red and proud. You could feel your mouth literally watering at the sight. He was beautiful. Like a work of art. All those years of dance really paid off for him.  

His next words brought you out of your daze. “Fuck, I don't have a condom. Do you?” 

You shook your head. “No, but I'm on birth control and I’m clean. I don't mind you going in raw if you’re clean too.” 

“I’m clean.” He assured you. His smirk returned, “Take your shorts off.” You did as you were told as he plopped down next to you. Minho took his length in his hand and gave himself a few jerks before motioning you over. “Come on babygirl, climb aboard.” 

You wasted no time, throwing a leg over his body and positioning yourself over his cock. For a moment you were worried he wouldn’t fit, he was so big. The biggest you had seen in person. As if he could sense your apprehension he teased “Don’t worry, it’ll fit.” He placed his hands on your hips, and your own hand gripped onto him lining him up to your hole, before you slowly sunk down on him.

You both threw your heads back at the intrusion. He didn’t give you a moment to adjust before he was lifting your body up and down on his cock, your insides struggling to accommodate him.  

“Fffuuuckkk, you have the tightest pussy ever.” He groaned out from under you. 

You placed both your hands on his chest and began to ride him the best you could, already feeling the burn in your thighs.  He could really see all the hickeys he had left on your skin from this angle. You were driving him wild. 

Each time you sank on him you let out a squeakish moan. Minho knew your sounds would wake the neighbors if he didn’t shut you up, so with one hand still on your hip the other tangled itself in your hair and yanked you down hard, to meet his face where he once again gave you a bruising kiss. You yelped into his mouth, the pain felt so good you couldn’t help it. 

You could feel yourself start to lose rhythm from atop him, your orgasm impending. Minho could tell by the way your thighs shook. He wanted to get you there so he let go of your hip in favor of sliding his fingers back to your core where he rubbed harshly on your bundle of nerves. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when you came around him, coating his thighs, balls, and lower stomach in your release. 

Your orgasm seemed to have triggered his own, as seconds later he was spurting inside of you, painting your insides white. 

“Oh my fucking god. Shit you ride me so well baby.” He mumbled out against your mouth, not really kissing, more like just breathing in each other. 

After a few moments of trying to catch your breath you rolled off of him, onto the space next to him. You could feel his cum leaking out of you, it was a strange but welcome feeling. 

Minho was the first to speak. “That was incredible. I don't think I’ve ever cum that hard before in my life.” 

You giggled and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Me either.” 

He faced you and gave you another kiss on your lips only lasting a second before he pulled away and placed his forehead against your own. “I don’t want you to think this was a one time thing. As far as I'm concerned you are my girl now.” 

“Really?” You asked hopefully, eyes shining at the idea of being his. 

“Absolutely. I have wanted you for years and now that I have you I’m never letting you go. You’re stuck with me, babes. For the long haul.” 

“That's all I want Minho. Just want you.” You kissed him sweetly. “But first I think I need another shower.” 

He laughed and hurled himself off the bed and gathered you in his arms, taking you to the bathroom to clean you up. 

A/N: as always comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

Requests are open as well! If anyone has an idea shoot me an ask :)

©doitforbangchan

[daydreaming-nerd]

The Bonds That Break Us (Rhysand x Female! Reader) Part 3

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Final Part

Request: "Would you do a Rhysand x fem!reader series? Maybe fem!reader is Rhysand's mate and Tamlin's sister? So secret love?"

AN: thank you so much for all the feedback! I am loving hearing your guys thoughts and I'm having so much fun with this

Summary: It was almost as if the cauldron liked to play games, as if it had sensed years of boredom and predictability and begged to be entertained. Its method of absolving its melancholy? Mate the High Lord of the Night Court to the younger sister of the High Lord of Spring. 

Warnings (so far): SMUT (consensual), oral (female receiving), mentions of SA.

Word count: 2730

(all photos are from pinterest)

The following day was another quiet day, and though Rhysand had stayed up with me all night like he promised, I didn’t hear from him in the morning. I avoided my brother at all costs and Lucien as well and spent the morning and afternoon getting ready for the ball at the Autumn Court that would be taking place tonight. I was sure to pick my dress carefully, opting for purple again.

I used to not care for balls, most of the time I would show up and not have anyone to see save for Viviane and Kallias who always had each other to dance with. This of course left me to dance with Lucien or not dance at all. I always left bored and feeling more lonely than I had been before I got there. 

I knew tonight would be different not just because of Rhys, but because of Eris. My brother has made it very clear at breakfast that I was to dance and charm Eris all night. The thought made my stomach churn and my eyes water, but I knew better than to disobey. 

From the second I walked into the ballroom I could feel Rhysand. The mass of people swirling and dancing around under the gargantuan chandelier made it near impossible for me to find him. I nearly reached out with the bond before my brother grabbed my arm harshly. 

“Remember sister, you are to charm Eris whatever means necessary,” he growled in my ear so only I could hear. 

“I will, now I’m going to find Viviane.” I glared and sauntered off to do just that. 

The ballroom was impossibly packed but finding Viviane’s ice white hair among the crowd was easier than I thought it would be. 

“Well you two look amazing,” I beam walking over to where her and Kallias are being wall flowers. Her dress looks like it was made entirely out of frost, and cascades down her body like it was made for her, knowing how Kallias likes to dote on her it probably was. 

“Me? Look at you! Purple is your color,” she smiles. 

“So, are there any eligible bachelors for me to romance tonight?” I laugh taking her arm and walking around the perimeter of the ballroom with her and Kallias. 

“No one worthy of note, but you know how picky I am when selecting a suitable man for you,” she giggles. 

“That’s true, you’re a worse critic than I am,” I smile. We promenade around the dancefloor until we run into one of Viviane’s friends and she stops to talk. I take it as my opportunity to glance around the room looking for a particular High Lord and finally I find him. 

He’s at the edge of the room wearing black as usual, conversing easily with two Illyrians. Their wings take up most of the space around them. The one with longer hair is obviously drunk as he lets out a laugh that reverberates throughout the room, the one with the shorter hair, swathed in shadows, simply shakes his head and smiles. Rhysand has yet to see me and to draw his attention I give the bond a tug, the first time I’ve ever done it. 

His head snaps up in my direction and I see the corner of his mouth curl. 

By the cauldron, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, my mate. 

“Why thank you my lord, I seemed to remember you had a certain affinity for the color violet,” I muse back to him and I swear from this distance I can see his eyes light up. 

The Illyrians next to him turn their heads to look at me, the one with the long hair gives me a knowing smirk and I quickly turn my head back to the conversation Viviane is having. 

I hear Rhys chuckle in my head, They don’t bite darling. Well Cassian might, but only if you ask him to. He muses over the bond. 

“An interesting proposal, I’ll keep it in mind,” I say back trying to hide my smile. 

You little minx. 

Before I can say anything back I feel a hand on my back, I turn to find Eris there, a hopeful look in his eye. He takes my hand and kisses it in greeting. 

“Y/n, what a pleasure it is to have you in our court.” he smiles.

“Of course, my brother and I were very honored to receive an invitation,” I say, trying to sound as chipper as possible. 

“You were the first invite we sent, by now I’m sure your brother has told you of my feelings towards you,” he smirks. 

“He has brought them to my attention, and I must say I’m flattered,” I smile.

“Might I have this dance?” he asks, my eyes flit to Rhysand for half a second, but it’s long enough that I can see the rage simmering in those violet eyes.

“Of course,” I say, taking Eris’ hand and allowing him to lead me to the dancefloor. His hand spreads over my waist almost obsessively as we waltz around the room. 

“You really are quite the sight to behold y/n, I can see why your brother keeps you locked up in the Spring Court,” Eris praises me. 

“I regret that he does so, if I had been allowed out more I would’ve found out much sooner how amazing of a dancer you are,” I smile flirtatiously. 

“Among one of my many talents my dear, though you’ll find out soon enough about those,” he whispers in my ear. 

We dance on and on swirling about the room to the music. From the corner of my eye I can see Tamilin and Beron watching the two of us and for the first time in a long time Tamlin almost looks happy. However it’s not long until I see his eyes catch on to a beautiful brunette that seems to grab all his attention. My skin starts to buzz again and it isn’t long until a large hand claps Eris on the shoulder. 

“Mind if I cut in?” Rhysand asks Eris smoothly. His words say one thing but his eyes look at Eris like he would cut off his hands or other important body parts if he were to say no. 

“Of course,” Eris says, passing me off to Rhysand and taking his leave.

“You’re going to get me in trouble,” I snap at him.

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t stand to watch another minute of that,” he says cooly. 

“Someones jealous,” I muse.

“Very,” Rhysand confesses with a small smile. 

 As we sweep across the dancefloor, the feeling of his hand on my waist is all too familiar and I can’t help but remember the last time it was there. I look to the side to find the two Illyrains standing at the edge of the ballroom watching us. 

“Who did you bring with you tonight?” I ask Rhys. 

“My most trusted friends and members of my court, Cassian and Azriel. Azriel is my spymaster and Cassian is the general of my armies.” he explains. “I grew up with them, they are like brothers to me.” 

“Do they know?” I inquire further. 

“That we’re mates? Yes. I think Cassain would start a war for you already,” he chuckles. 

“Interesting, I would’ve thought they’d be upset,” I say, turning my head back towards Rhys.  

“You are not my court’s enemy, your brother is. You aren’t damned by association, and besides they are my brothers, they want me to be happy.” Rhys explains further.

“It sounds like you have quite the amazing family,” I acknowledge and he picks up on the longing in my phrase right away. “I doubt I’ll be treated the same here in the Autumn Court.”

“Why would it matter how the Autumn Court treats you?” he questions. 

“Because I’m marrying Eris,” I sigh, keeping my head down, unable to meet the sadness I know resides in his eyes now. 

“What?” he growls and for the first time since I’ve known him I’m afraid of him. 

“My brother has decided to marry me off to Eris for political gain,” I explain further.

Rhys takes my hand and drags me off the dancefloor, at this point people are so drunk they don’t even notice. He leads me to a room off the ballroom and closes the door. I take a moment to look around at the dimly lit study, filled with old books and mahogany furniture. I lean against the desk and look at Rhys.

“You’re not going to marry Eris,” he fumes. 

“You say that like I have the option to say no,” I retort as he closes in further. 

“If you marry Eris he will destroy you from the inside out, you will become nothing but a breeding vessel to give him sons.” he tells me.

“I’m going to be the same thing to any Lord my brother marries me to,” I sneer at him. 

“That’s not true,” Rhysand shakes his head. 

“Oh really?” I scoff. 

“It wouldn’t be that way with me. You would be my wife, and my High Lady as well as my  mate. You wouldn’t have to be sexually assaulted in your own home, or barricade yourself in your room to be safe! You would have rights and freedom and you would have Cassian and Azriel and a family that loves you!” he yells passionately, getting closer to me. “And you would have me, and I would love you too.” he confesses quieter.

A tear slips from my eye as I take in all that he’s said. He looks at me from just an arms length away, waiting for me to say something back.

 “Rhysand I can’t-” I start to say. 

“Don’t you dare say that you can’t,” he says, stepping forward and caging me into the desk, his mouth dangerously close to my own. “If you were mine there’s not a person in this world that would dare to touch you. You know that.”

I feel a hand go to my waist and he uses the other to wipe the tears from my eye. A different kind of tension fills the room as his breath fans my face leaving kisses where my tears once were. 

“Rhys please,” I rasp out lightly pushing him away.  His hands on my waist tighten. 

“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want me to kiss you right now y/n,” he says tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. He’s right, I do want him to kiss me but I can’t even form the words to ask him that. “I thought so,” he says and then his lips are on mine. 

I taste all of him and need all of him. He pulls me so close to him I think I might melt into his skin. I throw my hands around his neck like he might be ripped away from me at any given moment. I feel his hands leave my waist and fly to the desk behind me. The next thing I hear is the clattering of glass, books and paper. He lifts me up and places me on the desk positioning his frame between my legs. 

“Rhys,” I moan as his lips find my neck. 

“I love it when you say my name,” he groans into the kiss, using his body to press my back into the desk and anywhere that isn’t concealed by my dress gets goosebumps from the cold surface. “I need to taste you,” his hands travel down my body and he sinks to his kneels before me, never breaking eye contact. 

“What are you doing?” I ask earnestly. 

“Have you ever had a man touch you here?” he questions back, his hand ghosting over my clothed core, my breath hitches. 

“N-no,” I squeak. He lifts up the many layers of my skirt and bunches them around my waist. 

“And have you ever touched yourself here?” he further inquiries rubbing a hand over my undergarments. 

I’m too embarrassed to speak, I just give him a shallow nod.

“Probably while you’re reading all those dirty books right y/n darling?” he smirks loving how the pink tints my cheeks. “And do you want me to touch you here?”  

I give him another shallow nod. 

“I’m gonna need to hear words darling,” he persists. 

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly I spit out, “Yes.” 

“Yes what?” he taunts me. 

“Yes I want you to touch me there,” I whine. 

He lets loose a feral grin before I feel him gently pull down my undergarments, taking his time to let his fingertips brush down the expanse of both my legs while he does it.  He pulls then off over my heels and discards them. I watch him intently as he lowers his mouth to me and licks a long stripe clean up my pussy flicking my clit at the very top. My back arches off the desk and I let out a moan. 

“Shhh darling, we can’t have other people knowing what sinful things you’re allowing me to do to you right now. Especially poor Eris, he’ll never get to hear you moan like this for as long as he lives,” Rhys smirks before disappearing under my dress again to feast on me. 

My back arches again and my hand flies over my mouth to cover my own moan. I feel Rhysand bring one of his hands up to grasp my free one. A touch so simple, yet so intimate. His tongue swirls hungrily over my clit and it takes everything in me not to scream. I squeeze his hand tighter and he chuckles, sending a vibration through my pussy. 

You taste amazing, like you were made for me. He says into my mind. 

I squeeze his hand harder at his word. I had spent most of my life reading books about this, sex and romance. I assumed all the women writing them were exaggerating how good it could be. In the spring court it was always seen as a pleasure for the male, not the female. But the way Rhys is using his tongue on me right now, has me seeing stars which I know is no coincidence. His mouth closes around my clit suckling it. 

“Rhys,” I breathe out. 

Fuck darling. I lied, I like it when you say my name, I love it when you moan it. 

“Rhys I’m gonna,” I cry trying to keep quiet. 

Cum mate. I want you to cum all over my face. He growls into my mind. 

It was almost as if he compelled me to. My back arches off the desk for the final time and I use my hand to stifle any sound that comes out of my mouth. He works me through my orgasm and when my body stops shaking he places one final kiss over my clit. His head pops up from under my skirts, his eyes shown with satisfaction as he licks the remnants of my arousal off his lips. 

I was on him before he could even speak, pulling him by his neck and kissing him hard. I fumble for the strings on his pants and he grabs my wrist to stop me.  

“No, not tonight,” he states. I immediately feel disappointment, the sedition I felt earlier had long left me the second that man licked his lips. 

“Rhys please,” I whine. 

“As much as it makes my cock twitch to hear you beg for me, I won’t let the first time I fuck you be on Beron Vanserra’s desk.” he chuckles, and leans in close to my ear. “Because when I’m inside you for the first time my mate I want to hear every strangled cry and moan I pull from your body. And when I cum inside you for the first time I want to hear you scream my name so loud all of Prythian knows just who’s mate you are. Is that clear?” 

Butterflies hit my stomach and all I can do is nod slowly every coherent thought in my brain long gone. All I can think of is how badly I want him to make good on his promise.

“Good girl, now let's get your panties back on before a certain High Lord of Spring starts to miss you,” he smiles.

Taglist: Taglist: @heyyitsnat21 , @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson , @randomperson1234sblog , @local-fangirl09 , @bleh-81 , @annaaaaa88 , @cauldronboilmetakemetovelaris

[eyesofshinigami]

Alley Oop

Rating: G

CW: None

Tags: Established relationship, supportive Wayne, sports talk, Eddie loves Steve

Prompt: For @sparklyslug "Love is secretly studying up on the nerd shit he's into" (I took it in a slightly different direction, but it was fun!)

WC: 709

Written for @steddielovemonth Day 11

Eddie thought he would get away with it. That no one would know. It could just be his little secret and then he could pull it out and impress Steve and show him that he does listen when he talks.

“What are you doing, boy?” 

Eddie nearly pops out of his skin, throwing the magazine over his shoulder and nearly braining Wayne with it. “What?! Nothing! I’m doing nothing!” he cries out, turning around and trying to act casual.

Wayne raises an eyebrow. “Then why are you acting like I just caught you with your hand in the cookie jar?” He folds his arms and pins Eddie with a look. “You know, I already told you I’m okay with you and Steve and what you get up to, as long as you-”

“Oh my god, no, Wayne. It’s nothing like that,” Eddie groans, letting his head thunk against the table. His uncle thinking he was looking at porn in the middle of their kitchen is almost worse than what he was looking at. “I’mreadingaboutsports,” he grits out quickly.

“What was that now?”

Eddie sighs. “I said… I’m reading about sports. Picked up some magazines from Melvald’s.”

Wayne looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “I don’t think I’m following, son.” 

“I’m trying to learn more about sports. You know. For Steve.” Eddie talked a lot of shit about sports in high school, knows deep down it’s not really his thing, but he can’t deny how much he loves how Steve gets when he gets to share his passion for them. For all that Steve talks about how dumb he is, the guy has a brain like a steel trap when it comes to statistics, plays, maneuvers, and players. He can recall how his favorite sports team fared ten years ago, he can calculate a batting average off the top of his head, and he can predict a play that a coach is going to call before the coach does. It’s frankly pretty impressive. How could Eddie not want to indulge that? “He’s been playing in my new campaign and having a lot of fun, so… I thought I would do the same for him?”

Wayne’s lips quirk up in a smile. “You asking me or telling me?” Eddie lets out a noise like a deflating balloon, which makes Wayne laugh. “I’m only picking at ya, boy. But I think that’s sweet. And I know he’ll appreciate it. You ought to see the way that he looks at ya when we’re all watching the game together.” 

That makes Eddie feel a little gooey inside. It makes him happy to know that other people see how happy they make each other. “Yeah. I want to like… understand what he’s talking about. It’s a lot more complicated than getting a ball in a laundry basket.” He chuckles, remembering the rant he sent Steve on when he said that. He’d been teasing, but when he thought back, he might have felt the same if Steve made a comment like that about one of his monsters or a plot he’d come up with. 

See? He’s growing as a person!

“Even if you don’t like it, it’ll mean something to him that you’re trying.” Wayne reaches out and ruffles Eddie’s hair, the same way he’s done since Eddie was a kid. “Y’all are good for each other. I was skeptical about that boy when you first brought him ‘round, but I see it now. You keep taking care of each other like this and it’ll work out just fine.” Wayne bends down and picks up the magazine from the floor and hands it back to Eddie. “Better get to studying. The Pacers game is next weekend and I bet Steve would appreciate a trip down to Indianapolis…”

With a wink, Wayne leaves him be. 

The wheels in Eddie’s head are already turning, thinking about how he can rope Robin into helping him get tickets. Maybe they can make a weekend of it, rent a hotel room and go out to dinner and just be with each other for a while.

Yeah, that sounds excellent. Eddie will get right on that, right after he learns the difference between a bank shot and a free throw.

[transgenderer]

I guess the thing that really gets me about the sinwar Yahya thing is almost noone responding seems to *care* if the choices he made were like...effective at achieving his goals. Which is weird! At the very least, over a thousand of his own men were killed on October 7. And to what end? War leaders should not send their men to die on plans that won't achieve anything. I mean, they do, all the time. But it's bad. And of course that's not even to get into all the ways the gaza strip is far worse off than it was a year ago. It was a disastrous plan! It seems to me you have to argue he was either playing a very long game, and this will pay off eventually (i can't prove you wrong, it certainly increased the profile of Gaza, but it also soured opinions towards the Palestinians, so it seems like an iffy tactic), or that he got unlucky and was reasonable in anticipating that this would just lead to a hostage/prisoner exchange. The latter is kind of easier to defend because predicting what your enemy will do is difficult, and it's easier to speak in hindsight, but makes him more of a victim of circumstance than a hero

[joesheistyy]

Busted on Ice

This was inspired by me busting my ass on Wednesday because of ice and still having to go to class <3 yes, my ass has a bruise and so does my arm and my ego but I promise I’m fine and nothing is broken :)

——

Wintertime in Cincinnati showed no remorse to anyone. The weather would switch between mid 60s to low 20s within a day, and who knew if it was going to rain, sleet, snow, or be sunny.

You were one to study the weather, checking it multiple times a day, almost like it was social media. For the past few days, the forecast had been predicting ice and maybe snow. Or snow and maybe ice. It could be anything.

Both you and Joe were not fans of the cold. A nice, crisp 60° day was your favorite, and same with Joe. So this cold weather system coming through made you want to hibernate until it was done with.

“Do we have everything we need in case we lose power?” Joe asked as he entered the living room to see you charging your computer on your lap while playing the Sims.

“Yeah I think so. I mean we’ve got plenty of blankets cause of my blanket addiction and we’ve got non perishable foods so we should be fine,” you reply, not looking away from your game.

“So I guess we just wait it out now, don’t we?” He asks, sitting down next to you.

“Yup, sounds about right,” you said with a shrug.

As the day went on, the weather got worse. Going from rain to sleet to snow and back to sleet. You and Joe spend most of the day cuddled up on the couch, avoiding the cold at all costs.

You two headed to bed in hopes that the roads and ground wouldn’t be as bad as the meteorologists had predicted.

As the sun rose the next day, you and Joe made sure to enjoy the warmth of your shared bed as long as you could. You had plans with your friends and you’d be damned if you missed them. First, yoga class, then mimosas.

You began to get ready in the bathroom as Joe stayed in bed, turning on an episode of SpongeBob. You put on your favorite lululemon leggings and align top and tossed one of Joe’s sweatshirts on top.

Joe got out of bed and decided to remote start the car for you as you made your water bottle. You bundled up and grabbed your bottle, heading out through the garage. The car was partially defrosted, but you always left with plenty of time for situations like this.

You stepped out from the safety of the dry garage, but what you didn’t know was that the ground below was frozen solid, yet clear.

You hit the ground, falling on your right arm.

Crack

The most blood curdling scream left your mouth.

Joe came running outside the moment he heard your scream. You were sitting on the ground, clutching onto your arm. Your clothes becoming wet. You were in shock, your eyes filled with tears.

“Oh my god y/n, what happened?” Joe questioned, pulling you carefully into the garage. Your butt slid along the ice until it hit the hard concrete garage floor.

“This fucking piece of shit weather,” you cried out, grasping your arm and trying to make it feel even the slightest bit better.

“Baby, you gotta be more careful,” he said as he pulled you upright, trying to avoid the arm that you fell on.

“Joe I heard a crack and it’s numb, I literally can’t feel anything right now,” you croaked out, looking up at him with fear in your eyes.

Joe gave you the same look, a look of shock as to the status of your arm. “Babe, we gotta take you to urgent care or something,”

“I refuse to leave this house because of this fucking ice,” you yelled, walking back into the house, still cradling your arm.

Joe followed you inside, pulling out his phone to call the team doctor to see if he had any suggestions. You sat on the couch, grabbing at your arm and trying not to move it because of the immense pain it caused. You were still in shock, your body language radiating pain.

“Okay the team doc said to take some Tylenol…” Joe trailed off as he frantically walked throughout the kitchen, “oh I know what would help…ice,” Joe laughed out, thinking he was being funny.

“Not fucking cool, Joseph. Tylenol isn’t gonna help the fact that I probably just broke my fucking arm. Quit being such an asshole,” you barked out, frustrated that you were in so much pain and at the comment that Joe made. Glares were exchanged between the two of you.

“You didn’t let me fucking finish, y/n,” Joe responded with a harsh tone. The last thing you needed was to bicker with Joe, yet here you were.

When it came to injuries, you were usually pretty self sufficient. Bandaids and sprains didn’t shock you in the least, but this time around was different. You weren’t used to being in this much pain and shock, so of course you were going to be frustrated and angry.

“The doctor is gonna make his way over here to take a look at you. He said he’s safe to leave his house and not slip and break a bone in the process,” Joe snipped at you. That had your blood boiling, only making things worse. At this point, you gave Joe the silent treatment until the doctor arrived.

The doctor came in and took a look at your arm. It was swollen up pretty bad and your range of mobility was lacking. He gave you some pain pills and a sling and said that when it’s safe for you to leave to go see an orthopedic doctor.

Joe walked out with the team doctor, having not said much the whole time he was there.

“Let’s get you up to bed,” Joe says, outstretching a hand to you to lead you upstairs.

You follow Joe, he had gotten you a bottle of water to set on your bedside. You took Joe’s pillow and set it under your arm for support.

“I’m gonna go get some stuff from the store,” Joe says as he walks out of the room “text me if you need anything,”

Your pain medication made you drowsy, so you decided to take a nap. You were upset with Joe for talking to you the way he did, and you were upset with yourself for much more than just falling.

Upon Joe’s arrival back home, he put the groceries away. He felt immense guilt for the way he got snippy with you. He didn’t want to admit that your fall made him anxious, but he didn’t mean to be so short either.

Not much can make up for the fact that your arm was most likely broken, Joe was upset with you, and you missed yoga and mimosas. You were a sucker for mimosas.

But, Joe got you some things in hopes of making you feel better. A bouquet of flowers because he felt guilty for being short with you, a bottle of nice champagne to make up for the missed mimosas, and some of your favorite snacks. He even got you a new blanket. Sometimes, Joe loved to spoil you. You hated it because you always want to give in return, but he always says no. This was one of those instances where you wouldn’t be upset with him for spoiling you. Life seemed like it couldn’t get much worse.

Joe arranged the flowers and staged them in the middle of the island. He set the grocery bags of gifts on the island so he could slowly pull them out one by one to show you what he got you. He climbed the stairs to find you still asleep, partially sitting up to rest your arm comfortably. He sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked your non-broken arm to wake you gently.

“Hi baby, how’s your arm feeling?” He asked as your eyes fluttered open.

“Terrible,” you groaned out a bit. Joe reached over to grab the sling to help stabilize your arm. He lifted the blankets off of you and held out his hand to help you out of bed.

You followed him downstairs to see a beautiful arrangement of flowers and a few bags full of gifts. Joe pulled out a barstool and assisted you up.

“I feel bad for everything that happened today so I got you flowers and other goodies,” he said with a small smile, leaning in to give you a sort of side hug.

“Joey, that’s very sweet, thank you,” you leaned into his hug with a smile, taking a nice whiff of his detergent.

“Lemme show you what I got!” He said excitedly, walking to the opposite side of the counter to give you a haul. He always loved when you showed him what you got, but the roles being reversed was just as fun.

Joe showed you all the things he got, making sure to continue to apologize about being so short with you. And the comment he made about ice helping really set you off, and he knew that. He hated that you were in pain and he wished he could take it away.

Joe made sure to take the best care of you that he could. He made sure to serve you all the mimosas you wanted and drape you in your new blanket, along with cooking you all your favorite things. And, of course, give you all the snuggles and love in the world and try his hardest to keep you out of pain.

——

This idea was much cuter in my head 🫠 anyway, it’s something for you all! I’ve got more ideas churning and so many great pictures of Joe that are inspiring me!! Let’s hope I can manage to put content out while dealing with classes 😂 this is like my way to detox and settle down and I love it. I love y’all!!

[ballblender]

“One bed!?"

Kagami Taiga x Manager!Reader

(Saw a list of generic romance tropes and couldn’t help myself)

cw: sfw, fluff + comedy (except i’m not funny), timeskip match predictions, kagami being an awkward giant, the one bed trope, aged up (kagami and reader are both 18 after the interhigh), manga ending (kagami stays in japan in the manga, unlike the movie)

The last two years were, a lot to say the least. Not only had the Vorpal Swords taken off shortly after the match against Jabberwock, but with the permanent addition of Kagetora as manager of the Seirin basketball team, Kagami had a lot on his plate.

It was difficult when the second, or should I say third, years graduated. The reliance and foundation built between them was one not easily replaced. Additionally, despite the newfound popularity of the team, it stayed relatively small. Inevitably, this led to Seirin’s defeat in the Interhigh.

With the Winter Cup in sight, he really just wanted to feel that glory again, winning with his old Serin teammates.

And he did, thanks to your help. As a younger friend of Riko, you had asked to be the manager for Seirin after hearing of their loss in the Interhigh, and given your friendship with their old coach, the team was in no position to refuse your offer.

And upon seeing the results that your suggestions produced, they were ready to keep you by any means possible.

By the time the Winter Cup came around, it was as if Seirin was a new team entirely; their coordination and plays were extremely effective against teams of any caliber, and the bonds between the members ensured their success.

It was also because of this display that Kagami found himself becoming increasingly drawn to you, for reasons made clear to him by Kuroko.

"You like her don't you?"

"WHAT? I DO NOT- i do."

"Yeah, I thought so."

And so the saga began. Kagami would start to grow more and more awkward around you. This caused a bit of a problem, as you began to think that he was getting sidetracked, and as the most powerful player on the team, causing the other players efforts to go to waste slightly.

It only got worse when you took him to the side to speak with him alone, and expressed your concern for his lack of concentration. He just stuttered and wasn't sure how to respond.

"Kagami, I seriously need you to listen to me..."

"I-i understand...I'll do m-my best for you and the team."

Out of nowhere, you hugged him tightly, which caught him completely off guard.

"I'm glad you understand..."

After practice that day, Kagami felt so light.

-

-

-

The night before the final against Rakuzan, the team, thanks to the school's newly increased budget (and a little pocket change from Riko), decided to stay at a nearby hotel with a gym so that they could get some morning training in before the big game.

However, upon arrival at the front desk, you ran into a problem.

"B-but I swear I booked 7 rooms..."

"I'm sorry, but there are only 6 listed here..."

You sigh.

"Are there any rooms available?"

"Yes, however there is only one bed opposed to the three in the other 6."

"...it's fine, i'll take it, sorry for the trouble, and thank you."

You walk over to the lobby, where the other members are waiting to get into their rooms.

"What took so long? Was there a problem with our rooms?" Kuroko asks.

"There was actually...so one of you will have to stay with me in a different roo-"

"Kagami will do it."

"K-Kuroko! Don't just say that!" Kagami whisper-yells, face turning redder each word.

The other members shrug in agreement, wanting to be in their own shared rooms to be able to freely discuss whatever they wanted without the eyes of their manager watching over them.

Kagami learns pretty quickly that trying to fight is useless. It's adorable, you think to yourself. The team heads up to their block of rooms, while you and Kagami take a different route to your room.

It looks like you forgot to tell him one detail though...

"One bed!?"

"Yeah, I hope that's okay... Unless any of the other guys let you sleep with them in their beds, we have to share."

Before you can even utter another word, Kagami is zooming across the hotel to the other players' rooms, knocking on each door.

Unfortunately for Kagami, with his size comes consequences. None of the other players wanted to share their already small beds with the biggest player on their team, even Kuroko.

"Y/N is smaller than me, sharing a bed should be no issue for the two of you." Kuroko states.

Kagami just lies on the floor, burying his red face in his hands.

"gahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..."

A knock on the door is heard by the others, and they open the door.

"Hey, have you guys seen Kaga- oh, there he is."

At the sound of your voice, Kagami springs up, wiping the dust and lint off of himself.

"Y-Y/N! I-i..."

Knowing that letting him resist and even just speak anymore would result in Kagami most likely passing out, Kuroko says,

"Kagami was just about to go back to your room, he just needed to borrow some deodorant. He's forgetful like that."

Kagami shoots Kuroko a death-glare, in a way that screams "Are you my wingman or what!?"

You nod in acknowledgement and turn to Kagami, smiling "That's okay, just get back soon!"

The moment you leave,

"Ow-ow-ow...what was that for...?" says Kuroko, Kagami's hands digging into his shoulders.

Kagami just stares at him with desperate eyes.

"Come on Kuroko...let me stay with you..."

"That's perfect, say that to Y/N and you guys will be dating in no time."

"...You're the worst..."

You lay on the bed, sprawled out, tapping through all of the outdated TV channels logged into the hotel's TV. (a/n needed to add this to rant: WHY ARE ALL HOTEL ROOM TV CHANNELS OLD AND PIXELATED IT DRIVES ME INSANE)

"...G-got any room for me...?"

You spring up in shock, and notice Kagami standing at the door, blushing like mad, avoiding eye contact.

You roll to the side and pat the other half meant for Kagami.

"I guess the others didn't let you sleep in their beds."

"...y-yeah..." Kagami squeaks, as he feels your shoulder touch his.

You, of course, are not oblivious to his feelings. It was bugging you that Kagami seemingly avoided you whenever you tried to talk to him, but the rosy cheeks and unintentional voice cracks whenever he'd try to talk to you.

May as well see where this goes...

You intentionally brush your thigh up against his under the guise of reaching for the remote on the other side.

"...ah..."

You giggle, noticing his tiny sounds. It's truly unbelievable that such a big player's demeanour can be reduced to a mouse's under the right circumstances.

"Hm? What's wrong?" you ask, though, you know exactly what you're doing to him.

"..."

You decide to let it go, especially since Kagami looks like he'd explode if you pestered him any longer.

As the time passes, you decide to ask Kagami, "Are you ready to sleep now?"

He was trying his best until this point, he was. But the thing he'd been...dreading? Anticipating? Whatever it was, he was not prepared.

The moment you switch off the lights, you're met with Kagami's arms hugging you tightly.

"K-Kagami what-"

"...please..."

It's warm. His embrace makes you feel safe. You decide not to speak again, and instead, you both fall asleep, comforted by each other's warmth.

-----

sorry this is out so late LOL

[gacha-incels]

TBH

Looking at the CN gacha space right now, Situation may get even worse with current “有男不玩” ("If there is men, [I] don't play") movement in CN. They basically want devs to kneel to their demand to get rid of female MCs (only male MCs are allowed for self-insert) and all playable males, so "stinky female dogs" (as they refer to female players) stay away from their games. Also they emphasize, that they are "Number One" paying costumers and don't want their money to be wasted on creating content for female playerbase.

And we kinda see that happening ... I guess? correct me if I'm wrong

My friend told me if this goes on : in the next 1 to 2 years, all gacha will be all female cast aka the female players will flock away while incels stay.

Which for me : I doubt it's permanently but i won't be surprised?

Also Why when it comes to gacha incel I see it's always CN and KR? I tought JP had incels? or they're just the least vocal insufferable?

Edit- here’s some more info thx to @megafreelyfuzzystudentthing-blog ! “mixed toilets” is crazy. this type of misogynist gamer male is everywhere they just freak out about different things, while I think their level of hatred and vitriol towards women remains the same.

in regards to if we are seeing that right now, the majority of these games have been created with a male target market in mind for years and I don’t think there’s been an overwhelming change in the market with regards to that. I think even one game like Genshin being very successful and having multiple male banners in a row and male character designs that the men playing hate while being mixed sex is enough for these guys to think they’re “losing” this no girls allowed gacha playground, so they bug out and act like every gacha now has a feminist mandated fanservice male character they release every other patch for women. but because of the overwhelming success of GI, this shows the greater market it’s worth it to invest in getting female fans, and this is what these men are afraid of. this is also why they specifically use Genshin as the “Genshinification” of gacha, meaning adding male characters that appeal to women and making a mixed sex gacha. So in order to deter this from happening any further, they have to cause a big enough ruckus so that studios think “it’s not worth it to have to deal with all of this,” the end goal being gacha remains a separated boy’s club. this is just a basic read of the situation for anyone who is unfamiliar. It’s disgusting the way they talk about women but I think this is also the reason they emphasize how much more money they have and spend. But the way you write about it, do you see them ramping up tactics significantly? I’m interested.

edit lol I just saw this 💀 I would think things like bot spamming and AI use are going to become much more frequent. the second post talks about this so I added it. It’s kind of just gossipy but it talks about botting and the attitudes there. the hate they have specifically for this character is fucking unbelievable. I looked up this story since these guys were fucking losing their minds and everything seemed so benign. but the thing is he’s still used as a main character in stories and events so this type of freakout doesn’t do shit…and it seems like they’re able to remove the bot comments and mass one star reviews after a while anyway? maybe if the company was smaller. when I check the revenue it still seems to be making a huge amount of money

In the next 1-2 years in terms of tech it looks like the trend will be new 3D gachas and more 2D gacha studios transitioning to 3D. for the companies making the switch to 3D I think it could go fine or it will be like what happened to some actors with the transition from silent films to talkies. designs will depend on how much money has been invested and predicted to be made. From what I’ve seen it kind of looks like more of the same, either all female or all female with a couple male characters. this is typical. jiggle physics when a woman breathes like wuthering waves, “feet quality increase update” like snowbreak or another Arknights game you can say is just different than other gachas (jk). none of this looks like a huge shift in either direction but idk i could be totally wrong and something crazy could happen. let me know if I’m missing anything but this is the kind of thing I’ve been seeing.

in terms of this blog, right now it primarily focuses on the South Korean gacha incel phenomenon, I only started looking into this Chinese incel movement wrt gacha because I was able to find a little more information in English and I was curious but it isn’t a focus or mainstay. I haven’t put much here from Japan because I typically don’t check out their social media that much and like China it isn’t a focus, but off the top of my head I remember the FGO fans going after artists on twitter if they didn’t like the way a character was drawn, like sending congratulations to an artist that his father had died and that he deserved it??? After this he deleted his social media I believe, it was the artist for Parvati. Stuff like that. They have that otaku idol culture and I’m not sure if that bleeds into the gacha scene but I would think that would be the type of crossroads where you would find this gacha incel behavior. I hope this was a helpful answer and not just me rambling lol I’m always worried about this

[awkwardchaosposts]

Icarus and his fool

Sherlock Holmes x Golden retriever!male reader (part 2)

TW: none

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

Stroh, Baroque,Electric. Sherlock didn't like change but he had found an interest in the new selection of violins.

He was busy admiring a certain classic edition when something startled him.

What on earth was that noise?

"You" his gaze narrowed. It's like you were some curse haunting him. A very cheerful curse he had to admit.

But that only made it worse. It was obnoxious. No one had a reason to be that happy.

"Hi" you greeted with excitement. Meeting a busy man like Sherlock once was a happy coincidence. Meeting him twice was a miracle.

"What's this?" he raised an eyebrow at the card you not so sneakily tried to get in his pocket.

"My business card. You never called me about that interview"

"I never intended to"

He moved around the shop only to be followed by you like some persistent pest. "Why not? You said you'd think about it"

"Perhaps I lied"

"Why?"

Unlike Sherlock you found this little chase game rather amusing,following him around the shop without complaint. Blissfully unaware that you were the sole reason for the man's grumpiness.

"I have an Iq of 230. Why would I punish my intelligent brain with an interview" he said as if it was the most dreadfully boring thing.

Sherlock's hands trailed over the spines of the record players that were proudly displayed in the middle of the shop on well kept shelves. Distracting himself as he waited for an insult,a comeback,just something that would prove you're not as idiotically pleasant as you seemed.

Instead he got an amused "Ok" and the most dreadful sound as you tried out an instrument you managed to get your hands on.

"What on earth are you doing?"

"I'm making music"

He scoffed. How dare you slander the name of music like that?

"I guess we should add the meaning of music to the list of things you seemingly don't understand"

Your grin made him confused in ways that made his blood boil. Sherlock liked being in control. He could predict everyone's moves and know everything about them with just one look. But you. You were another story.

"I'll be taking that" he took the harmonica from you just as you were about to resume playing it

Your excitement shone like the sun.

"You're going to buy it for me?"

"What? No. Absolutely not"

~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Will that be all?" the cashier asked after putting the harmonica and violin in one bag.

"Yes" he muttered,avoiding your giddy smile.

Weak. His mind degraded himself as he handed the young lady at the counter his debit card.

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

[featherymalignancy]

Okay like if you agree, but….

here are 3 trends that I wish the fantasy genre would take a break from for a little while.

*Quick disclosure, this isn’t meant to feel overly negative, I mostly want to hear other people’s opinions on these trends and others!*

Hungry Games-esque “a competition with deadly stakes” plot lines. On the one hand, I get it, because like the rest of the world, I was totally enthralled by this premise when it was first introduced in the 2000 Japanese film Battle Royale and later, the Hunger Games. However, at this point the idea of the main character entering into a deadly competition feels a little tired and predictable, and unlike Battle Royale and The Hunger Games, the many of the latest iterations lack the searing social commentary which made the premise so compelling. Notable Examples: Serpent and the Wings of Night, Lightlark, The Jasad Heir

Motherfucking EPIGRAPHS. You know, that line or paragraph of text which proceeds every chapter. In the fantasy genre, often it is an except from a historical or religious text from the world in which the book is set. And here’s the thing—it’s not that I hate epigraphs, or that I don’t understand their purpose. They can be an elegant way to add context to the story without burdening the main narrative with too much exposition, and they can also help the created world to feel more “lived in”. Having said that, I feel like they are starting to get way overused, and for me, they’ve gone from feeling like a cool way for the author to provide context and add meta commentary to their story to serving as a slightly less clunky vehicle of info-dumping. Like…am I supposed to be remembering the characters of this lore which I only ever hear about through these epigraphs, because I can assure you, I am not. In other instances, they can feel like an authors lack of faith in the reader, as if they are afraid we might miss the point if they don’t include an unsubtle cue as to where we ought to focus our attention at the start of every chapter. I respect the role epigraphs have played in fantasy classics like Dune and Wheel of Time, but I currently feel the number of novels employing them has become fatiguing, and I hope the trend of including them decreases, at least in the short-term. Notable examples: Fourth Wing (Empyrean Series, Swordcatcher, Furyborn (Empirium series)

A [Blank] of [Blank] and [Blank] Not much to say here other than…when are romantasy authors going to let this go?? 😮‍💨😮‍💨 While you could argue the true genesis of this title naming convention could be GRRM’s A Song of Ice of Fire, I think we can all agree that—for better or worse—it was the popularity of ACOTAR that sent this title style into the stratosphere, and at this point, it has become ubiquitous to the point of literal disorientation. To me there is nothing inherently wrong with this title style (though I would also argue there is nothing particularly gripping about it, at least not enough to warrant a trend of this size) but it basically renders all of these books—which are already of a similar vibe and style—virtually indistinguishable. As a reader on the hunt for new books to scratch that romantasy itch, it’s nearly impossible to tell the dozens of titles bearing this title apart, which means I have no sense which which ones I’ve read, which I haven’t, which caught my interest, which I started and didn’t care for, etc. I have idea how much of this is a consequence of publishers trying to capitalize on a known entity in order to make the most money and how much is just the fact that naming a book is really fucking hard, but good lord, what is it gonna take to stop this madness? Notable examples: quite literally too many to name

What do yall think? Do you agree, disagree? What are some fantasy trends you’d like to see go away/make a comeback

[thefirstknife]

What do you think about the season of the dawn mostly our guardians gravesite do you think it will come to fruition? I think it would be cool if they just killed us and had us come back someway. But I wanna know what you think.

I think about that very often. I think about Season of Dawn very often in general.

For those that weren't there, Season of Dawn had a community event that allowed us to explore the Corridors of Time. It was one of the most complex things that ever happened, only lasted for two weeks, and the solution to the whole puzzle led to a room called the Timelost Vault where we could see our own grave and hear Saint-14 saying an eulogy.

One of the most fascinating places we've ever seen tbh. The whole Corridors of Time were incredible to me, but that final room that took the whole community working night and day to find was something else.

We still to this day don't know what it truly means. In the eulogy, Saint says that we've died and that there was some sort of "final confrontation" and that he left a weapon we used there, shattered. And he also says that if we come back and aren't truly dead ("you've performed miracles before"), that we can take it.

Is this a prediction of the future? Is it some alternate timeline? We have no idea. The nature of the Corridors of Time is such that we just can't know. And of course, this was referenced in Season of the Splicer in one of the Expunge missions where Quria talks to us through our HUD:

The area in Expunge where this happens is very reminiscent of the Corridors of Time, the only are that doesn't have colour:

Corridors of Time:

But Quria was a Taken Vex mind so Quria saying this also doesn't help us. It could still be talking about an alternate timeline and not necessarily a prediction of the future. I think that as an alternate timeline, sure; it's absolutely possible there's a timeline where we died in any of the numerous battles for the system.

As a prediction for our own timeline... Hard to say. The Vex can't simulate paracausality, though the Corridors of Time aren't something the Vex made; they are just able to visit it and use it to move through timelines. So can the stuff we see in the Corridors of Time be a real prediction of our current timeline? It's definitely possible, but not something we can either prove or disprove for sure. I personally think it's most likely not a prediction, but it's definitely something to think about. Corridors of Time in general, as well as any timeline shenanigans, the Vex, the Sundial and the rest of the stuff that happened in Dawn.

I can see a scenario that mimics what Saint implies in the eulogy; that we "died" but that we're secretly still out there somewhere and can return. A story like that could make the grave and the eulogy true, but not have any impact on the playability of the game. But how likely that is? Unclear. I think that this ominous setting of our grave is a really cool setpiece that basically constantly looms as a possible threat in the background and we can never tell if and when that might come to pass.

One of the best setpieces in the game for me, but one that was unfortunately only there for 2 weeks. This definitely gave it an extra air of mystery and intrigue, but also it was highly inaccessible from the time when FOMO was much worse than it could ever be now. Even if you played this season, you could've easily missed this event. I almost did, as I was away on a vacation for a week when this happened and only got back for the few days after it was solved to run through it. This short availability definitely made the whole event feel much more ominous than perhaps intended so it's really unclear what this meant exactly and how relevant it still is and whether or not it was a meaningful prediction or just the consequence of being thrown into exploring millions of timelines. If anything, I would really enjoy seeing a reference to it in some way!

[thelesbianpoirot]

"Astarion would be an anti-prostitution anti-porn advocate and pimp killer. "

THIS. In a realistic world, Astarion would never advocate for any of these things and would vehemently oppose them and kill every pimp out there. Can't believe this is a controversial take to have in the BG3 fandom. I've been interacting with the Astarion fandom for a while and it's mind boggling to me how many of his fans, after playing the game and romancing him, still think sex "work" is is like any other type of work as long as it's consensual…The writers may have put a positive spin on the brothel for fan service but even those who "work" there clearly don't do it because they woke up one day and said "you know, that's what I want to do", they were very much forced by circumstances.

It gets worse when they argue that taking Astarion, a former sex slave himself, to the brothel to have an orgy with him and the drows is a GOOD thing for him because it helps him figuring out what he likes and doesn't like in terms of sex, that him dissociating is simply something that happens with SA victims, and it only happened to him because he thought he could handle and enjoy the orgy…big yikes: they're essentially like we can heal his trauma of being prostituted by...taking him to brothels to have sex with prostitutes. His fandom should be studied lmao.

Astarion "advocacy" is my book is the pimp genocide. Astarion isn't a good person, partially because of his race, elves are usually elitist pricks, his situation made him self serving to survive (understandable) and he has enough trauma to lash out on a massive scale, i.e becoming a big bad ends justifies the means. And while he's massing power to protect himself, I would see him murdering pimps and having a strong anti-sexual exploitation position. "If you touch me you die." I don't think that makes him a good person, but like it'll be like the character of red hood, where you wonder where good direct action (killing child molester, drug kingpins and DV abusers) is just an expression of male violence. I would love to see Astarion's issues taken to extremes but we'd never see that, because this isn't the climate. I compare him to bioware fenris because fenris is not some robin hood altruistic character, but to protect himself from ever being enslaved again, all slavers have to die, I think Astarion would follow a similar mindset. I won't be free until all pimps are dead. If they can fanon, so can I, and in my fanon, he's super cool gay anti-hero, who doesn't want anyone's pussy. You're right fan service gets in the way of fully realizing a character. The fandom is crazy, they take a prostituted character with sex trauma to a brothel, indirectly saying being the John instead the prostitute will fix him, and when he gets a predictable reaction, disassociating, it is brushed off, and reasoned away, his fandom is really brain dead and have create so many mental justifications for their desire to fuck and sexualize a character that is so traumatized by sex that I think he'd be a genuine sex repulsed asexual for years until he has a long term loving partner. And the writers are cowards, they'll create an fairly accurate sex traumatized character, speed run his "healing" so people who romance him can still fuck him and still support prostitution!

[doctor-hopper]

And Kamukura, though I'm generally a little less confident in my takes and portrayals when it comes to him, so I might be missing something:

Kamukura does just a little bit more than follow orders. He's very slightly motivated by a few things, even if he's too apathetic to pursue them or think them possible.

On the surface, he seeks unpredictability, albeit very passively. Unpredictability is one of the few things that's ever made Kamukura feel something (enough to say he's "rather excited"). Aside from having been molded into a tool that does only what it's told, this is the second reason he let Enoshima use him even well after her death. It could be interesting.

(He knows perfectly well it won't be.)

Kamukura is more than smart enough to know he's not some flawless Laplace's demon, immune to surprise. Enoshima breaks in. A bullet grazes his cheek. It takes him a moment to fully parse the ocean waves into something predictable. But that's not enough when you're depressed like this. Excitement is a blip, and then Analysis sets in, like clockwork. Moments like those can be ignored. Irregularities smooth over. It all means nothing in the end. And since when was he even a person to whom this would matter?

Komaeda would pick up on these flaws from the start, add them to the list of everything he finds repulsive and enthralling about this artificial Hope. Or, perhaps, the list of everything that might salvage it.

And in that case, tread carefully, Komaeda.

Because if he plays Enoshima's game—simply promises to teach him Hope is more interesting than Despair, puts on some horrific fireworks display to show for it—I could only see it going poorly. Kamukura would play along just the way he's been taught, new master, same rules. And if Komaeda starts picking at other sorts of wounds for the sake of "motivation"—Nanami, Enoshima, Kamukura's very nature (which are also all wounds for Komaeda himself in some way or another)—it would most likely turn out even worse.

True unpredictability for Kamukura isn't the violent sort that people like Enoshima fell over themselves to show him (as if they even needed that much to get what they wanted). No, it's found in the little things he's too unaware of his own wants and emotions to fully acknowledge, and it's found in kindness. Kamukura did ultimately make some sort of decision, first to test the "unpredictability" of Nanami's Hope against Enoshima's Despair in the Neo World Program, and (maybe, depending on your interpretation) after that to live on as Hajime Hinata—and all because he was recognized just a tiny bit for the person that he could still be.

Can Komaeda, who really struggles to actually understand Ultimates (and people in general) even in the best of times, give him anything like that? Well, it heavily depends, of course.

One interesting aspect of their dynamic that I might want to talk about more later, and a possible point in their favor (or perhaps against, depending on how you see it), is the way Kamukura, sort of like Hinata, isn't just an Ultimate. He doesn't quite fit neatly into Komaeda's boxes, old or new. Komaeda can't just approach him with the same scripts and frameworks he applies to everyone else. And this is mostly for negative reasons, almost the polar opposite of Hinata's—but, with some luck, it could also be the impetus for Komaeda to take the extra time and try to puzzle Kamukura out.

[erose-this-name]

Queening the Pawn

Cult of the Lamb Ficlet

⋅∴∵∴∵∴∵⁂∵∴∵∴∵∴⋅

Lambert awoke in the middle of the night by the sound of a loud, dull, thud, from outside.

They wrapped their hand around their bell to muffle it and slipped out of bed. They crept outside, shivering, the simple beige rags they wore did little to warm them after their recent sheering.

Lambert crept outside the bermed house to find their father, Ramses, working behind the secluded refuge. His graying wool was soaked with blood.

Ramses stood very tall, a scarred and grizzled one-horned ram. He claimed he lost his left horn in a fight against Leshy, Himself, and his right hand to something far worse. Though, the exact Bishop in question changed between retellings; Heket, Kallamar, Shamura, even The One Who Waits.

He never spoke of it boastfully, though. Rather, informatively; Ramses was always very specific about how he would escape these gods, how to fight their followers. He never made any illusion that fighting them directly wouldn’t be a death sentence.

Lambert came closer, struggling to make out what Ramses was doing in the dark. Then he realized that his father, shovel slung over his back and sword in his belt, was dragging the corpse of Lamb’s uncle away from the camp. Lambert gasped.

Ramses’ long, notched ear perked up at the sound. He muttered to them without looking away from his grim work, “I’m sorry you had to see this, Lamb’. I planned to do this when you were asleep, should’ve known that wouldn’t stop you… Don’t worry, I made sure he didn’t feel pain…”

“What happened, father? Uncle Ovid…” Lambert said.

“Ovid was talking about turning himself in to the Bishops. He never could listen to reason, ever since we were lambs…” Ramses said.

“S-so you killed him?” Tears welled up in Lambert’s eyes.

Ramses set down the cadaver and shovel. He stood up straight and turned to Lambert, retracting his bloodied hand back under his long, tattered cloak. He was stoic. Though, very dark bags hung beneath his damp, forlorn eyes.

“You know how we play chess together, Lamb’? Sometimes you predict a few turns ahead, and see the only way to win is to sacrifice a pawn. You have to do it, even if you aren’t sure. Even if that pawn might be very useful, even if you love it. Any pawn can become a powerful queen piece if it gets to the enemy’s side of the board, after all. Or, you might need to sacrifice bigger pieces, like horses, or bishops, even your original queen, just so another pawn has a chance at getting that far.”

Lambert’s eyes lingered on the body, strewn lifelessly on the ground besides him. But their father never looked away from them.

Ramses continued, “Sometimes, protecting a family is like a game of chess. If I’d let Ovid live, he might’ve snuck off when I wasn’t looking. If they caught him, they might’ve tortured him until he tells them where to find us. I didn’t want to do it, but it was a necessary sacrifice… I did it to protect us. Do you understand me, Lambert?”

“… yes, father.” Lambert stared down past his hooves.

Ramses bent down to Lambert’s eye level and wiped tears from their face with his cloak. “… Why don’t you go back to bed, Lamb’? I’ll come up with some warm milk, later.”

Lambert said, “Um… are you sure you don’t want help? With Digging the g-grave, I mean…”

Ramses tilted his head to the side and smiled at Lambert, his horn resting against a shoulder. “Don’t worry about it.”

⋅∴∵∴∵∴∵⁂∵∴∵∴∵∴⋅

[roadandruingame]

RaR Musings #7: Meaningful Mechanics

I saw a post this week about other people in the ttrpg design space, lamenting their years of work, and being dismissed for their project seeming like "a dnd clone". A fair concern, to be sure, but it would turn out the criticism stemmed from having a fantasy themed roleplaying game, that uses a d20 and adds proficiency, has character creation that involves classes, and spellcasting with multiple levels of spells. Others suggested there might be similarities if you use the standard stats, like STR, DEX, and INT.

So what's a guy with a fantasy themed roleplaying game that uses Xd10, adding proficiency, has a character creation engine that has classes as a minor element, and spellcasting with a mana system allowing you to cast spells at a higher level, using some basic stats, to do?

Firstly: not worry about it. Creativity is iterative, and DND has been the fantasy roleplay standard for nigh on 50 years, having affected pop culture and videogame design alike. It'd be hard NOT to have anything similar to it, and for those who have no experience outside of DND, dipping a toe outside that space can seem daring and adventurous. The writer is probably upset because they don't understand how generally meaningless their reinventing of the wheel was in terms of convincing people to play their game instead; in fact, there wasn't any mention of WHY he made the effort to design his own game in the first place. Was it distaste for existing products? Because he had vision? Or just to prove that he could do it too, a kind of intellectual parroting?

Game mechanics can't be copywritten, so while it's not illegal to copy mechanics, there needs to be certified thought put into what those mechanics are meant to achieve, and why they may fail to do so.

As an example: both d20 games and Road and Ruin involve rolling dice to generate a random value, and then adding your proficiency as a flat number.

DND falls down here because even high proficiency, like +11 or +13, barely crests over half of the value generated by random d20, much less the more regular +1 to +6. This means a specialist, someone who has lifelong expertise at their craft, can still bungle even a basic action, giving other players a chance to perform, but completely botching the class fantasy of being a specialist, and there's no coded mechanics for varying levels of success or failure to even reward being a specialist beyond increased binary success rate. Multiple overlapping proficiencies don't have cumulative value, and outside of house rules, you can't mix and match Attribute to Proficiency, such as using Strength for Intimidation. However, the system is simplistic, and easy to understand. Not having different values for different proficiencies means only having to refer to a single number as a bonus, which makes stat scaling much more predictable, and as mentioned, giving other players the limelight means the skill monkeys won't hog it.

Road and Ruin HAD a much more 'unique' skill check system; roll your attribute (1-10) as Xd10, and your proficiency (two 0-5 proficiencies combined) determined the minimum score any dice could land. Dice were adjusted, totalled, and the sum divided by 10 to find Success Rate, with scores of 1 or higher expected. This ended up being too much adjusting and adding; it produced the ideal values, but was too slow, and not very fun, especially to do repetitively. Worse, it didn't enable 'skill' to exceed 'raw talent'; you needed a high attribute for the guaranteed 'floor' that proficiency provided to matter, and I wanted those with training to potentially exceed those without training. If INT4 rolls 4d10, and Proficiency 3 meant you couldn't get below a 3 on each, for a 'floor' of 12-40, that still meant an average ~22, regardless of if you were trained or not. Specialization 'rolled' an additional 1d10, but set it aside as an automatic 10, thus improving skill checks beyond what was possible via random dice rolls, raising both floor and ceiling by 10, but not solving the issue of speed or reliability.

So now, Road and Ruin has a Roll + Proficiency system too, except you roll Xd10 (1-5), and Proficiency is two scores (0-5 each), combined, and multiplied by Specialization, with a cheat-sheet of the most common Proficiency results for your character. Adding the dice, and Proficiency, before finding successes, is still slow, but faster now, and due to the multiplication of scores and specialization, your character may even automatically succeed basic tasks, without the need for a roll at all. Such skillmonkeying requires utmost devotion though, and is far better suited to an NPC assistant; but, said NPC will still be built using the same mechanics as what goes into a character, making it easier to understand and appreciate their service.

More importantly: I like it. I understand that others might not; it doesn't have the hallmarks of DND's 'gamble' economy, getting high rolls and confetti when you hit a 20, but frankly, I'm building this game for me, not for people who are satisfied with DND. Even my nine attributes are inspired by World of Darkness, though slightly redefined to suit the needs of my setting instead, and the proficiency skill list is entirely my own, designed to offer as many cases of two overlapping skills as possible. Using any attribute in the skill check, based on what you aim to affect rather than what the proficiency is most known for (using DEX and herbalism to get plant clippings, or INT and herbalism to recall plant facts, for example) is a much more direct and diverse way to handle skill checks, rather than trying to remember whether Nature in DND is Intelligence or Wisdom, and why. Rolling multiple dice instead of 1d20 helps protect against fringe rolls, making the rare cases truly rare, as well as creating a market for spells, equipment, and abilities that affect your skill checks to have meaningful use, rather than simply adding a +1.

But I'm having fun doing all this. Road and Ruin began because I was upset with DND, and over the years, I've done a lot of work, first to intentionally distance it from DND, and only later to begin to paint it in my own colors, doing what I want, not in rebellion of what I don't. Anybody looking to design their own systems should be more preoccupied with how their mechanics feel; if people think that it's too similar to an existing product, one that you intentionally avoided? Then that's tough beans for them. They don't get to define how you have fun, and at the end of the day, that's what playing, and designing, a game is all about.

[yellowhollyhock]

worthless, day 13

bayverse Raph again… when did I become a bayverse fan? oh well. more tmnt things to love sure why not

tw suicidal ideation, somewhat graphic descriptions of a plan

Every time I talked about walking out, it was because I was afraid.

Some days, Raph just couldn’t muster up the strength to pretend to care about training. He bulldozed through without any technique, take the lecture, do the extra flips, whatever. He just wanted to go back to his room.

What he really wanted was to get out of the sewers for good. Sometimes when they were out together he’d catch himself gazing down the highway. He didn’t really think it through or anything, just imagined picking a direction and walking. Find a truck headed some place far and hitch a ride. The asphalt went on forever; he could follow it anywhere.

Other times he looked down from the buildings they perched on and imagined following the asphalt in a somewhat different way, meeting it at the bottom and never looking back.

Maybe in all practical ways they were the same plan. How long would he survive on his own, anyway?

A sharp knock made him sit up in bed; he didn’t want his family to catch him moping, especially after his pathetic performance that morning.

It was enough to motivate him to walk to the door and open it himself, which felt pretty big of him on a day like this.

Predictably, it was Leo. “What do you want?”

Leo crossed his arms. “You can’t spend all day in your room, Raph. Get out and do something.”

Raph rolled his eyes. “Oh sure, I’ll just go out and do something.”

Leo was already walking away, pointedly leaving the door wide open. With a low growl, Raph followed and slammed it behind him.

“Cause there’s so many freaking options!”

The slammed door caused Donnie and Mikey to jump; they were huddled in front of the computer screen, probably playing a game. Leo was busying himself in the kitchen. “You’ll find something. It’s not healthy to stay cooped up all day.”

“No kidding,” Raph sneered.

He got no further reaction. He wanted to slam his head into the wall. Instead, he went to grab a coke out of the fridge, shoulder-checking Leo as he passed, and flopped noisily onto the couch.

“His stats pretty much all went to speed,” Donnie was saying softly. It was clearly only meant for Mikey; they’d been having a fine time before and how they were making themselves small and quiet to make room for Raph and Leo’s argument. In case he’d felt any doubt that he was the worst brother on the planet,

“But that’s all we need for this run, brah,” Mikey replied. “They can’t catch us, they can’t do a thing.”

Raph flipped on the tv, hoping to drown out the deafening tension that was making his brothers feel like they had to whisper.

“The really important thing with this recipe is not to overmix—”

“Still recovering from an injury last season—”

“Consult a doctor before taking—”

“Recent crimewave in central New York—”

“You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”

He groaned in irritation; his mind wouldn’t latch onto anything and the added noise was worse instead of better.

Leo leaned over the back of the couch. “Go back.”

It was obvious from context he meant the channel, but out of all the things he couldn’t make himself focus on, the phrase stuck for Raph.

Go back to the sewers, you mutant freak.

Go back to your room. You’re not doing any good out here anyway.

He shoved the remote at Leo. “You wanna watch more depressing news about how much our city sucks? You go back. I’m going out.”

Leo crinkled his snout at him as he headed for the door. “What’s with your attitude today?”

Raph turned briefly back, only to see Leo already flipping back to the news.

“I said I’m going out,” he kicked the couch for good measure. “That okay with you?”

Leo gave him a sideways glare. “Fine, as long ad you don’t bring whatever you’ve got now back with you.”

I won’t bring anything back, Raph wanted to promise, because I won’t be coming back. I’ll find a road to follow until I can find a car big enough to crush me. Maybe I’ll just keep walking till I starve. You won’t ever have to worry about me and my crummy attitude again.

But before he formed a retort, Donnie was on his feet. “I’ll go with you!”

Raph stared. Mikey had easily slid all the way into Donnie’s vacated spot, without any of the fuss you’d normally expect from him if someone ditched mid-game. They were both way smarter than they let on.

He narrowed his eyes. “No.”

“I need more copper wiring,” Donnie insisted. “I was gonna go later anyway.”

Raph glanced at the full bin of copper wires under Donnie’s desk. Mikey subtly moved in front of it.

“I’m not running errands,” Raph insisted, “Just going out.”

“It’ll only take a minute,” Donnie said brightly, already grabbing his backpack and bo staff. “Then we can go wherever you want. Hey, are you gonna bring your sai?”

So Raph grabbed his weapons and went out with Donnie. He felt heavy and worthless; it couldn’t be more obvious that his little brother was keeping an eye on him. Like it wasn’t bad enough he was hard to deal with when he stuck around. Now he was an extra burden because they knew he might try and run out on them.

I was afraid that I wasn’t worthy to stand next to you and call you brothers.

He wouldn’t really do it. He just thought about it sometimes.

“Hey, Raph,” Donnie motioned him over to the dumpster he was looking through. “Come check this out.”

It was a stupid thing to ask, because Raph was supposed to be the lookout. “Show me later.”

“No, you have to come see. Please?”

Raph kept his back to his brother and his eyes on the streets.

“Please please please please please please—”

“Alright, alright, I’m coming.”

Donnie was holding up a battered, but nostly intact, xbox console.

“It’s mostly functional,” he reported with a grin. “Just needs a couple replacements. It’s crazy, the things people will throw away.”

“Yeah. Crazy.”

It was hard to drag himself through those kinds of days. But he was making it. And he was glad he was making it.

If Donnie could find something worthwhile digging through trash, maybe Raph could find it somewhere in him to believe he was salvageable too.

He had some serious deep-rooted issues. No denying he needed some upgrades and parts replaced.

But he wasn’t worthless.