#so what if it makes me miserable and is yet another failure

[alcego]

.

[pinkthrone445]

-Baila conmigo-

(Dance with me)

Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Gender:Fun, soft, first time knowing someone

Warnings:I don't think so

Summary:Mel finds you sad in a bar and decides to step in, not knowing that life will bring you back together again.

(This is the song that they dance together)

One more month without a job call, you had tried in all the schools and positions and no one accepted your degree because you were from another country which they did not consider very superior although you had an excellent and valid degree.

Your mother's voice resounded in your head like a drum, she insisted over and over again that if you left the country your degree would be useless and you would end up working in something you didn't like or that you would end up returning to your country devastated and sad. As you emptied your glass in one gulp, you took her words into consideration and thought about whether it would be the right thing to go back home. The money you had set aside to go live there was about to run out and it was time to make a decision about your future, a pretty quick decision.

It was already late and you were too drunk to decide at the moment, you sighed and leaned your head against the table, how sticky it was made you sigh again. The noise of a glass being placed near you made you raise your head again, a redhead on the other side of the bar was smiling empathetically at you, with a bit of worry in her eyes

-"It's on me"-she said pointing at the drink beside you, it was the same that you were drinking before-"It looks like you need it"-You frowned

-"And you don't look like my bartender..."-you answered and she laughed, a gorgeous soft laugh that you could hear over the music

-"That's because I'm not... I'm on this side of the bar because I'm the bartender's sister... He is an asshole, but putin up with him has privileges, like free drinks"-she said with a gorgeous smile that distracted you for a few seconds

-"I appreciated, but I already had too many... And I still don't feel better... I think it's time to go home" - You answer and she looked at you curious

-"What are you trying to escape from with the drinks?"-she pointed all the empty cups by your side

-"Home... Reality... Being a unsuccessful grown-up?" - You answer looking at the drink with love and want

-"I feel you" - she answered and walked to the other side of the stool to sit beside you with a beer in her hand-"I'm far away from where I picture myself years ago...but that doesn't mean I'm unsuccessful or that you are, you have many years ahead of you yet, plenty of time to figure it out" - she said with a smile and you took the drink

-"I feel like a failure right now, I came here to get a nice job and be happy and now I'm drowning my sorrows in a glass while I reconsider going back to live with my mom"-You muttered embarrassed under your breath

-"I had to get a roommate to help me pay the rent because the money I do is not enough, who is more pathetic? Keep in mind that I'm much older than you" - she laughed drinking from her bottle

-"Hey, this is not a competition, let me be the sad one tonight" - You jocked and you both laughed-"Thanks for the drink... And for the company, you are helping more than the 4 glasses that I already had... Also, for being way older than me, you are very hot"-You said and she looked at you surprised

-"Are you flirting with me right now? You don't even know my name" - she said nervously

-"First I was admiring you... Second, we already stablish that I'm very pathetic, so I had nothing to lose if I said that... And third, I'm (Y/N), nice to meet you" - You said having another sip and she laughed

-"I'm Melissa, nice to meet you too... You are funny" - The redhead looked at your mouth smiling

-"Maybe is the alcohol talking, a few moments ago I was very miserable, but I'm glad to know that I can pursue a clown career if my teaching one still doesn't work" - You slurred your words a little bit

-"I bet they would pay you better that what we teachers make nowadays" - she said finishing her beer

-"Maybe you could be a clown too, you already have the red hair, no need for a wig" - You said without thinking, maybe that would have offended someone else, but instead made her laugh

-"I like you kiddo, you would be definitely a good kid's teacher...witch is your specialty?" - she asked curious

-"I'm a Spanish teacher..."-you looked at her, her eyes were green with little brown dots and the fluorescent lights of the club made them shine in a particular way that made you feel attracted like a moth to the light.

-"Ohh that's cool" - she smiled and you looked the other way

-"It would be cool to find a job with it"-You insisted and she slapped your arm-"Hey!"

-"Stop mopping about it, more chances will come" - She commented to you and you grabbed her hand with a frown

-"Just because you're pretty doesn't give you the right to hit me miss"-You said leaning closer to her squinting your eyes at her, she pulled the arm that you were holding to bring you closer

-"But being pretty has worked for me many times to get out of many things, are you sure that I can't hit you? I bet you would love it in a different situation in a different part of your body" - she flirted back and you smiled looking at the way her lips moved when she talked and how her tongue licked her lips to make them look more shiny and full, you were about to lean more but she pressed her hand on your shoulder stopping you from going any further - "Do you know how to dance?" - she asked and you nodded a little bit dizzy-"Take me to dance then, a Spanish song is playing and I want to know what it says and also how to dance it properly"-she demanded and you laughed standing up and reaching for her hand

-"Whatever the lady wishes" - The redhead got up from her chair smiling as you directed her to the dance floor. You knew the song that was playing very well, you had heard it too many times in your house growing up, it was one of those songs that your mother played at home that you hated but when you grew up you started to sing and love.

The song started slowly and you brought her closer to you by running your hands over her soft arms until you reached her hands and took them firmly, bringing her body closer to you and placing one of your hands on her waist, leaning her hips a little to yours. You gently moved your hips from side to side making her follow you to the rhythm of the beginning of the song while your other hand went up a little and landed on the side of her body almost on her ribs holding her firmly to be able to guide her more easily.

It was funny that the song talked about how no one knew were the night would end, nobody knew what would happen tomorrow, if you would be together or not or if the world would end or not, if you would be the perfect person for each other, end up loving or hating each other... That you should not think too much about the future, this moment was unique and you were alive and you should enjoy that. Nobody could known the end and life was like roulette that will turn no stop, you should let your heart decide what you are feeling tomorrow and just enjoy the present time.

The rhythm began to go faster and you moved away from her to give her a little turn and stick the front of your body to her back making her dance from one side to the other, the redhead followed you well and moved her feet quickly following yours, easily following the rhythm of the salsa you were dancing.

Every time the song slowed down, you stuck her closer to your body so you could gently shake your hips together while you singed the lyrics and when the song went faster, you moved her a little bit away so you could do some spins or some easy tricks. The two complemented each other well and people noticed it and began to make space for the two of you to dance, earning some applause and encouraging comments.

The redhead seemed to enjoy the dance and the attention as she had a smile from ear to ear and her hands squeezed yours every time she looked into your eyes, eyes that shone in a particular way with a lot of joy.

When the song ended you gave her a little spin and a little hug, her laughter reached your ears and that made you smile. You were both agitated from dancing so much but smiling too much. Without letting go of your hand, she pulled you off the dance floor and ordered some lemonades for both of you. The dance and her smile had made you feel sober and quickly awake, so you were grateful that she didn't order something with alcohol in it again.

-"That was so much fun!" - Melissa said over the music and you focused on her smile while you had your drink

-"You surprised me, I thought you didn't knew how to dance that kind of music" - You said laughing and she smiled

-"I've been in a few dancing clases, I never said that I didn't danced, I asked if you knew how to... What did the song say?" - She asked, gently pushing you in a playful way with the side of her hip

-"It talked about how nobody knows about the future and how you should enjoy the present and do what you heart wishes without think too much about it..."-you said and blushed a little bit but the darkness of the bar didn't let it show

-"And what is that your heart wishes right now?" - she asked grabbing your jacket and pulling you closer to her, your eyes immediately went to her lips-"Maybe a kiss?" - she played and you nodded, too dumb to speak-"That would be only fair after such an amazing dance" - she said before slowly getting closer to you and pressing her lips to yours, thing that you inmediatly reciprocated grabbing her waist and bringing her closer. Her lips were a little bit salty for the heat of the dance and a little bit sour for the lemonade, but at the same time it was sweet with a cherry taste from her lipstick, it was addictive. Your hands clenched more to her body at the same time the kiss grew more deep. She parted her lips a little bit and you swipe your tongue in her lips after getting in her mouth. Her tongue danced with yours even more expertly that the dance you had minutes ago. Her hand went to your neck and her nails scratched the skin softly and playfully, making you whimper, thing that made her smile on your lips.

You wanted to keep kissing her all night long, but time run out when her phone rang. With an annoyed moan, the redhead pulled away a little and looked at her messages, her happy face diminished a little and she gave you a sympathetic smile

-"My roommate it's waiting for me outside, tomorrow we have to work and I don't have my car here, I'm sorry..."-she said and you smiled caressing her waist

-"Don't worry, thank you for making me feel better, I had a lot of fun" - You said honestly and she put on her jacket

-"Thank you for the dance...Do you want to go out tomorrow?... if you are still here in the country..."-she asked messing with you and you nodded smiling-"I'll send you a message then" - she comment and gave you a last peck before going away.

You were too happy and she was too rushed to realize that you hadn't exchanged numbers or anything, thing you didn't realize until the uber dropped you at your home.

As you changed and removed your makeup, you couldn't help but smile from remembering the things and the fun time you spent together.

When you got inside your bed, you were about to fall asleep when your cell phone rang lighting up your room, when you picked it up and opened your email, you almost jumped out of bed when you read that you had a job offer, at an elementary school replacing a teacher, for the next day. You quickly got out of bed to look for an appropriate outfit and leave things ready for the next day, you knew that it would be difficult to sleep now with such much excitement.

Thoughts about the redhead and her kisses took a back seat when you started planning the next day's classes.

The next morning, even though you had slept little, the excitement made you feel fresh as a lettuce. When you got out of your car you put your bag over your shoulder and squeezed the straps in your hand, with the other, you took your necklace, giving a small kiss to the medal you had around your neck to ask for good luck before entering the building.

Before you could take a step inside, some firefighters arrived and took everyone out of the school, confused you waited outside with some of the students. While you waited, you started talking to some of the teachers to learn a little bit about the kids and the classes. Some of them explained you a few things and were happy to have a new teacher in the school, others were talking about what caused the alarms to go off and didn't payed attention to you. They only stoped talking when they were being interrupted when one of the fire captains walked through the school doors

-"Okay... So, apparently one of the students had been smoking in the bathrooms and activated the smoke alarm..."-he said but you immediately stoped paying attention to him when you saw a special redhead walking behind him, like the sight of an oasis in the desert, that familiar face gave you a little peace to see her there... And also a little/much anxiety

-"We found the little rascal with Melissa, she sniffed him out" - one of the other teachers said

-"One sniff and I'm back to when..."-Her gaze met yours and for a moment her mind was filled with memories from the night before and she forgot how words were used - "Back... To... Nevermind, the important thing is that we found him"-she said and looked the other way avoiding your eyes going with another older teacher.

After some time and talks, the school resumed it's course.

Ava stopped you at the entrance to give you your pass and explain a couple of things that you almost didn't hear because you were focused on the redhead who was bringing the children to her classroom

-"... And Melissa is the other second grade teacher, so if you need help, you can ask her, because I can't help you... I mean, I can but I don't want to"-The principal said and you nodded smiling to her shily before walking away to your classroom to meet the children, looking sideways at the redhead who stopped next to the school principal once you were gone

-"She is hot, isn't she?" - Ava said checking you out while you walked away and Melissa looked at her frowning

-"Isn't that inappropriate to say at school about one of your coworkers?" - The redhead asked and Ava laughed

-"No if she doesn't hear it... Besides, I saw how you looked at her... Maybe she can feel uncomfortable with that too"-The principal remarked and the redhead rolled her eyes and went to her classroom, thinking what would be the appropriate way to address you now that you would be working there.

_______________________________________________

I'm back bitches! Bye

[finniestoncrane]

Almost There

Capullo!Riddler x Fem!Reader, word count: 4k commission: eddie desperately trying to get someone to like him, but failing a bit miserably before he starts succeeding, as he was always bound to 💚 commission me here! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: whiny/desperate eddie, teensy bit of angst

With a sigh of resignation, Eddie looked out of his window on to the streets of Gotham below. People, like ants, below the feet of a God they didn’t even know they worshipped yet. But he could take very little joy in that usually comforting fact, as he knew there was one ant of great subordination who refused to bend to his will. And that was despite knowing everything he could offer them in exchange for their undying and unquestioning devotion.

No amount of anything he had would fix this situation. This was him now. He was stuck. Edward Nygma. Stuck. Stuck on a puzzle, on a question, on a task, for which there seemed to be no possible outcome for. Or at least, not one that he deemed reasonable, not one that he would be happy with. Which, after all, in the mind of the Riddler, was not the correct answer at all.

The phone he clutched in his hand was quickly tossed onto the nearest surface. It was just a hopeless distraction at this point. A symbol of futility. Of his seeming failure.

Eddie’s fingers were getting tangled in his fringe. The greasy strands of his usually neatly swept back shock of red hair were getting caught as he twisted and pulled at them. Teasing at them nervously, he paced around his pre-furnished, and entirely impersonal, apartment. Looking at the extravagant wall clock he sighed and groaned, letting it form a soft growl as he ripped a few extra strands of his hair out in his closed and trembling fists. He was thankful for the thick, soundproof walls in this building. It meant he could talk, or groan, or yell, to himself as loudly as he wanted without fear of anyone hearing his plans. Or his pathetic whining.

“How long does it take someone to answer a text? Is she really that stupid? And if she’s that dull and so incapable of typing a message out, do I really want to be associated with her?”

His self-serving insults regarding your intelligence only helped to make him feel worse about himself. You were perfect. Beautiful, but in a way he’d never really seen before. Interesting, more so than any other woman he’d bothered giving the time of day or willingly chose to get to know. And you weren’t stupid. In fact, you seemed scarily competent and able to hold your own against him. Which he hated.

Another thirty seconds of anxious pacing, as he wondered what could possibly keep someone busy for this long. It wasn’t as if you could have anything important to do. Or anything more important than responding to his message. You weren’t him, after all. He was the busy one, the important one, the mastermind genius that had barely had time to focus on anything but himself. What could possibly be distracting you?

With a finger raised almost comically in the air, one floating light bulb short of looking like a caricature, Eddie shouted out.

“Unless! Unless… she’s really not as stupid as I thought. And… all this… is a clever ploy! Oh! Oh-ho-ho! That is… well, that’s frankly almost brilliant. I hate to admit it, but credit where credit is due, I suppose.”

He picked up his phone from where he had tossed it, laying on the polished marble surface of the sideboard he hated so much but refused to give up, as he’d been assured by the realtor that it was something a woman would appreciate. And of course “a handsome bachelor such as himself would definitely be looking to entice a woman”. He was glad that realtor was dead.

Gripping the soft velvet on the back of the sofa, he leapt over it, landing with a thud with his legs up on the cushions, head leaning back on the soft pillows as his red hair spread messily behind him. And he held his phone steadily in his hands, trying hard to exude confidence, even falsified, just to give himself something to cling to.

Behind him, the large, floor to ceiling windows gave view of the sunset, which was slowly stealing the remaining light from Gotham and sinking it once again into complete, dangerous darkness. And as that beautiful sight disappeared, wasted entirely on Eddie, he typed a quick message out, one that he felt sounded casual, despite it being agonised over in his hyperactive mind.

“Hey, you get my text? Maybe you missed it. Maybe you missed it on purpose. I’m on to you, baby ;)”

He paused for a moment, reading over the words on the screen with a twisted expression of disgust.

“Hm… maybe not baby… at least not yet.”

Deleting the final word, he read the text again. And then again. And then once more, before he decided to delete the whole thing. Throwing his phone to the floor with an exasperated grunt, he realised that you might have been watching his little ellipses, the telling dots that screamed “HERE COMES EDDIE! TYPING ANOTHER MESSAGE! LOOK HOW DESPERATE HE IS!”

Up until recently, everything had been going exactly his way. He’d scammed his bosses, embezzled expertly from the company that owed him everything and had until that point given him nothing, and bought himself a luxurious and ridiculous apartment that he had wild dreams of turning into a bachelor pad, with endless parties that revitalised every night with new guests and new drinks and new experiences. Money hadn’t quite been enough to buy him the necessary friends or women, however. Although, when he thought about it, technically his money had bought him the company of several pleasant enough women. But it felt like an offence to him that he had to pay for their services, to beg, essentially, for their affections, and then had to add on an extra few if he wanted to have them pretend to listen to him as he talked to them. By his calculations, women should have been falling for him. They should have been paying him for the opportunity to be talked at. He was Edward Nygma! He was intelligent, he was handsome, and now, he was wealthy.

Realistically, there was an obvious solution here. And an easy one at that. He could go out, flash some cash, and find the first suitably pretty girl who reacted positively to his shtick or his flaunted wealth and take her home. But that routine had gotten old, it felt like those cheap sudoku puzzle books you could buy at the corner store. Easy, too easy. Though he might be loathe to admit that to anyone, given that he felt it was part of his reputation, his lore, his borderline misogynistic use of woman as a status symbol as an essential aspect of his character by this point. In his illusions of grandeur, and his misinformed concept that everyone knew who he was, he felt like everyone knew that about him, this staple of his personality, especially the girls at the clubs he frequented when his loneliness became intolerable. What Eddie wanted in a woman reflected his desires for the entirety of Gotham, and eventually the world. He wanted immediate adoration with nothing in return. An endless willingness to please him. And key, above all: subservience. Complete and utter subservience.

So why was he all of the sudden chasing someone who refused to give him the time of day? Who couldn’t even reply to a text with due diligence? He mused out loud, pondering this interesting conundrum, before he spoke his assumed answer.

“The… challenge? Maybe?”

As he spoke the answer to his empty apartment, he realised the confusion within him. One part of him knew the answer, the other too stubborn to learn it or accept it. He supposed it was the right answer though. It made sense, after all. Everything had been too easy lately. Very little ever posed a threat or a challenge to him anymore. And life had, unfortunately, become boring. Perhaps the fact that his plans and dreams were falling into his lap made him question whether or not he was actually achieving anything. This one act, going against the grain, against everything that he was, and wanted, to his core, felt like the first time he had actually engage his brain in something. And that was good practice, because sure enough, when his greater plans were in motion, he would have to be well-versed in thinking on his feet. Especially if he wanted to outwit the GCPD and his future, pointy-eared nemesis.

And of course, besides all of that, he was Edward Nygma. There wasn’t a puzzle he couldn’t solve, no challenge he couldn’t eventually meet. The last thing he was going to do was let some ungrateful woman get him down. No way. Even if it took all of his determination and might, and every ounce of his brain power, which as previously concluded was not really up to much else at the moment, he would have you.

With a renewed, and somewhat misplaced, sense of confidence in his abilities, something he found hard to admit had even been diminished in the first place by your ridiculous behaviour, Eddie typed a simple message. Admiring it before sending it as though it were a piece of minimalistic art. A masterpiece. One to be looked on by the ages.

“Hey.”

That was enough. And quite frankly, it was all you deserved right now after your negligence and rude behaviour. He would let you come running to him. Let you get intrigued by his casual interest. You could – no­ – you would come to him. As he sat, grinning smugly at his self-congratulatory pride, his phone pinged. The small chime was enough to make him jump, his heart thumping as it missed a beat, a strange sense of arousal that surged through him at the mere suggestion of you paying a tiny iota of attention to him. And as he picked up his phone, he muttered to himself.

“A response already! See, Nygma, you know what you’re doing.”

Looking at the screen of his phone, his grin was immediately forced down by the immense emotional gravity into a large, comical frown, his brows scowling as he read the brief message you had decided to grace him with.

“What do you want?”

Seething, and through gritted teeth, Edward hissed into the empty apartment.

“Oh, you little…”

He managed o stop himself before he said something even he might have regretted. But still, enraged by your lack of interesting and your crude wording, Eddie felt his fingers tense around his phone painfully. Any more pressure, or strength in his slender body, and he may have cracked the device in half. Relaxing his digits, he typed a quick message in response, pleased with himself, but still deeply upset with yours. If that’s how you wanted to play it, then you could get ready to be met with a formidable opponent.

“Sorry, might be the wrong number. I have two girls’ numbers in my phone right now without names yet… which one are you?”

That would show you. False competition for his attention might engage you better. If you thought there was even the most slender, most remote chance, that you might not get to be with him, then it might encourage you to a little bit more receptive. Or at least, slightly more polite. But your response, coming incredibly quick, only served to snuff out that idea.

“I’m the one you should delete and block.”

“Fuck!”

Eddie tossed the phone once more, letting it land with a thud on the soft carpet on the floor as he rolled over on the sofa, burying his head in the cushions and letting out a variety of grunts and groans, though mostly mewling and pathetic whimpers. After a suitable amount of time spent feeling sorry for himself, and trying to convince his own ego that the backfiring of that particular approach was down to your difficult personality, he rolled back over. Staring blankly at the ceiling, he tugged nervously at his hair again as he tried to reason with the silence.

“Come on, Nygma. Solve the puzzle. She’s a Rubik’s cube, and you need to get your fingers all over her, twist her the right way until she makes sense.”

With an exasperated sigh, he reached to the floor and picked up his phone. There was a chance, he thought, that being himself might, for the first time ever, work when dealing with a woman. After all, it was foolish to keep trying the same methods and approaches, madness to think it might yield different results. Something completely different, something out of left field. A shock factor. It might just be the thing to loosen you up.

“Perhaps…”

Delighting in the idea that perhaps he was the solution to the puzzle after all, he typed out a new message. Very flirty, very cheeky, and typically Eddie all over.

“Oh!  It’s you. I’d recognise that attitude anywhere. Spicy. Off-putting. I won’t be deleting you, so what do you want your name to be in my contacts? Would ‘babe’ do?”

You were typing already. Hook, line and sinker. He had you, and even if you were only replying in order to tell him off, at least you were communicating with him. It was better than nothing. And it meant he might have another chance before you decided to block him.

“Absolutely not.”

“Ok then. What about ‘cutie’?”

“If you think ‘cutie’ suits me, then I think you still have my identity mistake.”

“Ok, fine then. If we’re going for descriptive accuracy, how would ‘Stone Cold Bitch From Hell’ suit you?”

The back and forth stopped. There was no immediate response from you, and panic began to settle in Eddie’s chest. If this backfired, it would take a lot to come back from it, effort he wasn’t sure he was ready to put into even a committed relationship let alone a hook-up with someone he barely knew. Even he might not be able to rescue this situation from the hole he had dug for it. Maybe, he should have clarified it was a joke. Text you back immediately with a smile and a laughing emoji. After all, not everyone was as intelligent as he was, and the nuances of his humour did often go unrecognised or misconstrued, through no fault of his own obviously.

When his phone finally pinged, Eddie held his breath as he looked at the screen, his skin dimpling and his hairs standing on edge as he waited for the disastrous consequences of his actions to rear their ugly head.

“Actually, that one kind of suits me. Maybe you’re a bit more perceptive than I thought you were. And don’t get excited, because that really isn’t saying a lot.”

With a smug grin washing over his face, Eddie elected not to respond any further than sending you one solitary winking face. That would do, for now. He had to take it slowly, even still. Weeks of pandering to you, of trying to be someone else. And now, finally, he found out that you were one of the rare few who responded positively to his true self. A woman of refined taste, it seemed. But he was still wary, cautious.

As he got himself ready for bed, he thought back on how much time he had wasted so far on you, trying to convince you that he was perfect for you from behind a façade that you clearly had no interest in. He’d learnt the lesson, yet again, the hard way. Be himself.

“Be yourself, Eddie. That’s how you’ve won everything you have so far in life. Who can resist your charms? I mean, come on!”

He grinned wide into the mirror above the sink, shooting himself a quick wink, sly smile spreading further. He brushed his teeth quickly, spitting into the basin before focusing his attentions back on his reflection, picking at his teeth and combing back his hair before stopping to pose in front of the mirror. He flexed his almost non-existent muscles, self-obsession and illusions of grandeur once again assuring him he had the body of an Adonis, and then he laughed.

“I am genuinely almost jealous of her. She gets to be with this! Hoe wonderful for her. I truly am a gift.”

Thoroughly enamoured with himself, he took his self-satisfaction and headed to his bed to celebrate it in the disgustingly lewd way only he could. And, surprisingly, beyond the thoughts of how wonderful he was, he was thinking of you as he congratulated himself over, and over again.

And he was still thinking of you in the morning when he woke up. It had been a long time, concerningly so, since someone other than himself, or that ridiculous vigilante with his tight-fitting costume and penchant for leather, had been able to steal the focus of his attention. The excitement at the novelty of the situation had him giddy as he got out of bed. Purposefully ignoring the pull of desire to check his phone for any notifications, he opted to primp and preen first. The longer he held off checking, the longer he could live in ignorant bliss of the true, and potentially heartbreaking, outcome.

“Schrödinger’s booty call…”

He winced at his own joke, the thought of it distressing him. What if that’s all he could get out of you, in the end, after all of this?

“OK, but do I really want more?”

Yes was the answer to that, although his empty apartment could hardly scream that back at him. This was beyond a quickie, a one-night stand with someone he found physically enticing. He had deeper feelings for you, maybe only slightly underneath his callous and crude surface. But they were definitely there. What they might amount to in the future even he couldn’t be sure of yet. But all he knew was that once with you would not be enough. Not for the trouble he considered himself having gone through for you.

Finally dressed and smothered in his obnoxious cologne, Eddie turned his attentions back to his bedroom as he left the ensuite to find out whether he had a reason to live this morning. And if you hadn’t replied, his plans to destroy Gotham would be enacted far sooner, spurred on by your cruelty.

Luckily, however, for the citizens of Gotham and Eddies own ego, given that with so little preparation he was sure to fall flat on his face if he commenced his grand scheme so early, he had one message and it was from you.

“Nygma. That’s right, consider yourself lucky that I remembered your name. You’re good with computers, yes? I seem to recall you bragging about it.”

“Ha ha! I’ve got you now!”

A typical ploy! How many times had he asked for help from someone, which he never needed given he was the smartest and most competent person who had ever lived, just to get closer to them or to spend time with them? Far too many for him to count. He was very aware of what you were trying to do. And he was more than happy to play ignorant, to play along and give you what you so clearly wanted.

On the edge of his seat, quite literally he realised as he shuffled back into the centre of his bed, his fingers tapped quickly, furiously, as he replied to your message.

“Obviously, of course I am. It’s kind of my thing. Although, you obviously knew that.”

Was he too smug? Maybe… But you clearly liked him. It was impossible for you to deny it now. It was only a matter of time before he lured you into his web and kept you there… willingly of course… unless…

Eddie’s more villainous daydream was cut short, thankfully, by the slight vibration of his phone against his palm, a tingle sent through him like an electric shock as he took a breath and looked to his screen, or looked to his future.

“Great. Is this guy any good? I need someone to fix my laptop and he looks competent.”

Attached to your words was a screenshot of some less man, the Computer King he was calling himself, who was offering extortionate prices for no doubt shoddy, subpar work, regardless of what it was that you needed.

Were you joking? He couldn’t be sure. It could be an effort to make him jealous, retaliation for his own efforts the night before. It felt as though you were goading him into offering himself up on a platter, detailing his skills and positive attributes like you were interviewing him for the job of “gracious boyfriend”. And that just wouldn’t stand, not even…

“It would stand though. Only for her. But still, irritatingly so…”

Laying back in his bed with a soft thump, he clutched the phone to his chest, reminiscent of how he had been the night before, and so many other moments leading up to this one. You were in his head, and he could feel you slipping into every other facet of his being. But still, he was slightly pissed off with your constant back and forth, your cold attitude, flaunting the concept of communication in front of him and then snatching it away cruelly with the suggestion that you’d be giving it to some other, lesser, man.

Fed up, and already annoyed at this early hour, he typed a droll message.

“Yep. He’d be good enough for you, anyway.”

With a falsified grin that faded into a genuinely emotional frown, he placed his phone down and went to the kitchen to grab some coffee. He managed to convince himself he’d done the right thing. Pretending to be proud of himself, he sipped slowly, a dramatic “ah” at the end of each slurp as he continued the farce. Who he was performing to, he wasn’t even sure himself. But given that he spent most of his time in solitary isolation, self-congratulatory arrogance with the aim of tricking himself into feeling comfortable was the least strange thing he did alone.

When he realised he hadn’t heard his phone chime, though, he began to feel tense and nervous. He was fidgeting, tapping the edge of his coffee mug with his fingers, shaking his leg, his foot bouncing on the ledge of the breakfast bar. One moment of, albeit in his mind rightfully placed, anger, and he’d undone his weeks of hard work.

“Idiot, idiot, idiot.”

In a rare moment of self-reflection that bordered on a breakthrough, Eddie considered his life as a whole, and how many things had actually gone right for him. The years of slaving away at a job that didn’t respect or value him, his tortuous formative years filled with bullying and excommunication from every social group he had tried to enter, his lack of luck in social situations with anyone he dared to interact with, his formidable and deeply unloving parents. The possible, but likely inevitable, end to his great schemes when the vigilante of Gotham decided to crack down on him. Surely, all of these amounted to an understanding that Eddie might just not be lucky, or made for good fortune. Or, could it be that Eddie was the problem? That he was the common denominator in all of the unfortunate things in his life?

It was a self-hating thread that he rarely pulled, for fear that his entire existence would become unravelled. But then, a glimmer of hope as he heard the chime, finally.

Tripping over himself in a bid to reach the phone as quickly as possible, he read the message wide-eyed and hopefully.

“I don’t want to regret this, Eddie. You seem to not understand. If I get another guy to look at my laptop for me, then I can meet you for a coffee while he works on it. You seem like you might be adequate entertainment for an hour. And besides, I feel like hating myself today. So?”

Eddie’s wide smirk pressed into his cheeks as he sighed dreamily. With any luck, you’d be willing to commit to hating yourself every day if he could just make sure this date went well. And since he had already managed to get this far with you, he assumed his natural charms would see him the rest of the way.

[scuttlingcrab]

Minthara prompt: she's training the new generation of paladins to take over Menzoberranzan with her :D

THANK YOU FOR THIS PROMPT @mimetoist! You're amazing. I hope you enjoy and please send me more if you've got them! (That goes for all Minthara lovers on tumblr, too!) I had a blast writing this. More Nightwarden content, please!

Summary: Tensions quickly rise when Minthara is forced to teach a group of aspiring Paladins a harsh lesson.

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

Lessons from the Nightwarden

(Image via qiyshehn)

“I have bested you again, Felynn.” Minthara spoke through pursed lips, shaking her head in dissatisfaction. “I am starting to think you are better suited as a slave than serving on the frontlines. It would take another century to make a warrior out of you and I am pressed for time as it is.”

Felynn’s cheeks burned as she looked down, avoiding Minthara’s scathing gaze. She stared at the wooden sword aimed at her throat, wishing it were real so Minthara could end her miserable life then and there. The Nightwarden would probably kill Felynn out of pity when they were through with training anyways, for the sheer amount of embarrassment she had undertaken that day alone. 

The sounds of snickering grew at the Nightwarden’s words, the laughter like a thousand lashes against Felynn’s pride. She sensed a crowd forming from the corner of her eyes, bodies of all shapes and sizes lining up around them, like mosquitoes out for blood, eager to watch Minthara degrade yet another aspiring Paladin.

She only had one guess as to what they were whispering about as she continued to sit on her bloody knees, cowering like a fool in the middle of the cadet training grounds. 

She’s an utter failure. 

A disgrace. 

A waste of time and resources. 

An insult to all Paladins. 

Better off…

The sword pushed harder into Felynn’s throat, pulling her away from the cursed internal dialogue. She held her breath, afraid to move a muscle out of fear of being reprimanded any further. 

Minthara trailed the tip of the sword along Felynn’s neck, settling it underneath her jaw. She directed Felynn’s gaze with the sword, tilting her head up so that Felynn had nowhere else to look but into Minthara’s red eyes. 

A chill trickled down Felynn’s spine, her arms trembling despite remaining at her side. She wanted to melt into the dirt, to hide under a rock like an insect. Minthara’s smooth face looked like a smile had never touched it, her stare cutting through the very fabric of Felynn’s being. The Nightwarden’s brows furrowed as she studied Felynn, eyeing her as if she was a war map laid out on a table. 

“Rise.” Minthara said, removing the sword with a flourishing swipe. “We will continue until you’ve learned your lesson.”

Minthara began to circle Felynn like a displacer beast, walking with confidence, purpose, and poise; yet her grip remained firm on the sword, an indication she was ready to pounce again at any second. 

“Always keep your eyes on the enemy, even when death is but mere moments away. Do you understand me? Never give your enemies the satisfaction of beheading you as you grovel in the dirt.”

Felynn clenched her fists, digging her nails into the palms of her hands to stop herself from crying. 

“I did not hear your acknowledgement.”

“Y-yes, Nightwarden.” Felynn replied, her voice quivering. 

Felynn stumbled to her feet, suppressing a groan at the pain surging through each limb. They were heavier than stones, every part of her body covered in fresh scrapes and bruises. She had been going at this for hours, waiting for Minthara to move on to the next cadet, yet she remained focused on her. Unmoving, relentless. What other lessons could Minthara possibly teach her? Had she not been punished enough for her incompetence?  

Felynn reached for her sword but tripped over herself, nearly falling flat on her face. She quickly amended the error, picking up the weapon and holding it close to her chest, as if that might protect herself from the humiliation.

“She’s so pathetic.” Someone said through the crowd, with no effort at being discreet. 

Felynn’s heart dropped to her stomach, she knew that deep cocky voice. It was the constant source of her bullying, her nightmares. She never had a chance to escape from the torture even when she slept. 

“When will we get a chance to do anything useful? Just throw her into the spider pits already and get on with it.” 

The mocking giggles that followed stung, worse than any of the fresh wounds she received that morning. Felynn’s lips grew dry and she struggled to peel her tongue away from the top of her mouth. 

Minthara stopped dead in her tracks, turning sharply in the direction of the ongoing snickering. Her eyes narrowed as she searched the crowd. When she spotted the sea of smiling faces she shot them all a cold stare, the creases of her permanent scowl deepening. 

“Dilra, your lacklustre commentary is proving to be quite tiresome. Do you wish to take my place?”

The laughter ceased almost immediately, the silence deafening. The air became heavier at the sudden change in Minthara’s tone.

“I thought so. Approach the training grounds.”

The audience of cadets scattered like ants, revealing Dilra standing wide eyed and dumbfounded. She was tall and lean, with short spiky hair and a leathery face, despite not spending much time on the surface. Dilra cleared her throat before proceeding to follow Minthara’s orders, stopping in the centre of the grounds. 

Felynn sighed, relieved to finally have the weight of Minthara’s attention lifted from her shoulders.

“Cockiness is but a weak shield. You think you are worthy? Prove yourself.”

Minthara stepped back, aiming her sword at Felynn.

“Her?”

Minthara finally smiled, but not at all pleasantly. 

“You question my judgement?” 

“No, of c-course not.”

“Good. Then begin. We have a growing audience and I am always one for providing suitable entertainment.” 

Felynn raised her sword, a layer of sweat building on her forehead. Dilra rolled her eyes as she shifted her footing, preparing herself in a basic warrior stance. It was always Dilra who led the attacks, coming out on top at the expense of screwing over Felynn.

Broken bones, the crippling isolation, and her shattered confidence; Felynn never expected training to be a Paladin would come with so much suffering. She wanted to take her oaths and do some good in the Underdark, to make sure no one went through the horrors she had experienced as a child; losing her entire family to a civil war amongst the Drow Houses. And yet, she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to make it through these basic drills.

Minthara’s eyes flickered to Felynn as if she could read her thoughts and the two shared a fleeting look. The Nightwarden nodded her head slightly, as if in acknowledgement, a movement Felynn would’ve missed if she wasn’t paying attention. 

Before Felynn could register Minthara’s action, Dilra charged forwards with her sword held high.

Felynn blocked Dilra’s attack, the ferocity of the first blow nearly causing her to fall over backwards. There was no time to recover before Dilra swung her sword repeatedly, each strike was sloppy but full of venom. Felynn miraculously dodged each attack, using what she had learned in that day’s training to open her senses. She was able to read Dilra’s movements, anticipate where she might go next by her footing and where her eyes were targeting. 

Dilra was relentless, leaving no openings for Felynn to even attempt a parry. Dilra growled as she tried to hit her, constantly missing by mere inches. For once, Felynn found herself grinning, a glimmer of pride shining in her eyes. In truth, this was probably the longest she had stayed on her feet during a squirmish.

Felynn raised her weapon to block another one of Dilra’s violent slashes, but her wooden sword shattered upon impact. It exploded into shards, the wood ricocheting off Felynn’s cheeks like mini projectiles. 

“Ha!” Dilra shouted with glee.

Dilra stabbed at Felynn with a powerful thrust, and she quickly jumped backwards, barely missing the strike. As she landed, she lost her footing, tripping and falling on her backside. 

“I’ve got you now…” Dilra whispered, her crazed eyes narrowing as they focused on Felynn. 

Felynn gritted her teeth as she rolled onto her knees, placing her hands in the dirt to steady herself. The world around them vanished as Felynn locked eyes with Dilra, matching her savage stare. Felynn wasn’t about to back down, she wasn’t going to look away. Not this time. She was tired, ready for this torment to end. She had nothing, no family, no one rooting for her, no one wanting her to succeed. It was Felynn against everyone, everything. This was her only shot at proving herself, of surviving. If this was the end, if she was never going to become a Paladin, she might as well go out with a bang.

She was not a coward, despite what everyone around her might’ve thought.

And she was not a failure.

Felynn filled her hands with dirt as Dilra ran towards her. 

Dilra lunged at Felynn, and she countered by throwing two fists worth of dirt into Dilra’s face. Dilra howled in agony, dropping her sword and floundering away from Felynn. In turn, Felynn scrambled to her feet, watching as Dilra frantically tried to rub the grime out of her eyes. 

“You miserable bitch–!”

Felynn took one step and punched Dilra square in the nose, quieting the bully once and for all. Blood spurted from Dilra’s face like a fountain as she cried out in pain. Felynn punched her again because the first one felt so damned satisfying, and once more just for good measure. She could’ve thwacked her a few more times but her hand ached, the knuckles already swollen. Felynn was panting, her head throbbing. Her heart felt like it was about to explode at any second, but she continued to breathe.

In and out. In and out.

Dilra swayed, her arms falling limp. Her eyes glazed over until she eventually toppled to the side, landing head first in the dirt.

The crowd gasped when Dilra fell. A few of her cronies moved as if to aid her but Minthara raised her hand, and they froze. 

“How undignified.” Minthara said, walking closer to Dilra’s unconscious body and lightly kicking it.

“Laughter will not take you far on the battlefield, as you just bore witness to. We must fight as a unit. To put yourself first for glory will only lead to your untimely demise. Of not only yourself, but your entire band. A lesson I myself learned many moons ago, from some of the most powerful warriors I’ve ever had the privilege of fighting with.”

Felynn inhaled sharply. The surface dwellers, the ones from the legends. She heard countless narratives about them in her youth, listening to so many retellings from drow bards on how they navigated one obstacle after another to defeat the Absolute - the evil that set out to lay claim to the surface. Minthara rarely spoke of them, but Felynn’s ears perked up at even the slightest suggestion of their influence. 

One day she’ll be worthy of going to the surface.

One day.

Minthara twirled to face Felynn and she flinched out of instinct, unsure what to expect next. The Nightwarden instead hummed in approval, laying a hand on her shoulder. An intense warmth radiated from Minthara’s fingertips as Felynn’s skull tingled. In fact, that sensation washed over her entire body, like she was standing under a comforting waterfall. A light blue glow enveloped them both, and Felynn watched as all her wounds slowly vanished. She felt oddly refreshed, like she had slept for an entire year.

“You used your environment to your advantage, Felynn.” Minthara said, lightly squeezing her shoulder as the healing completed, “I am content with your training today. It turns out, there might be some use for you yet within my ranks.” 

[wordslikesilver]

There’s a scene I think about when I want to start just screaming, crying and bawling my eyes out. I think about Maliketh howling outside his temple in the rain. I think about his last words after he’s brought the final piece of Deathroot.

“Marika… Is this what it is to sin? Will things never be the same?”

I could write ten thousand words on this quote and it will probably keep coming up on my blog because think about what he’s feeling. He did his task as best he could. Why does it still ache in his body? Why is destined death a mere shadow of its former self? He put it all back together, why isn’t it the way it was? Is this what it is to sin? Is this the TRUE nature of sin? To change and never be able to go back to the way things were? Maliketh’s life feels like such a long endless cycle of tragedy and failings one after another from a beast who simply wanted to do his very best for the people he loves. Again and again he laboured and loyally sacrificed EVERYTHING that he is for Marika, for the Greater Will, for the dejected who dwell outside his temple still and guard his life for the service he showed them.

And yet he still sinned, and he was set up to sin and he KNOWS he was set up to sin and still, he howls and yearns, why wasn’t he enough? The pain inside him is so bottomless. He’s responsible for it all. The death of Godwyn. The theft of Destined Death. Marika, doing what she did. If only he’d been more. If only his loyalty and his entire life in service to her were enough. And maybe, if he collects it once again, if he protects it the way he was SUPPOSED to the first time, it can all go back to the way it was before. But it can’t. It will never be the same. That is what it means to sin. Marika needs him one final time to collect Destined Death, as much as he can, even if it’ll only be a fleeting shadow of its former glory, so that we might wield it ourselves. Why covet Destined Death? To kill what? Hewg says it best, truly. To kill a god. He collects it piece by piece, EATING it, as punishment and penance for his failure. It rots him from the inside out. He feels this hunger, this never ending cursed hunger to reunite Destined Death and this time he’ll protect it with his own god damn body if that’s what it takes. The agony of his sin will never fade. The appetite, the hunger, will never subside. Things will never go back the way they were.

But WHY, WHY couldn’t Maliketh be trusted the way Godfrey was by Marika? Why couldn’t Blaidd be trusted? It HURTS and it makes me weep so hard for them both. In dark souls 3, slave knight Gael did what he did KNOWING he had to die for his plan to work. He entrusted everything to us, to kill him once he’s gone hollow and deliver the Dark Soul of Man to His Lady. Maliketh has no such choice. He’s gone mad, just as Blaidd goes mad, hanging on by a THREAD, a singular purpose that directs him always. Collect and safeguard Destined Death. And this madness makes him too dangerous now. Marika knows he’s suffering. She can’t do anything about it. Maliketh knows that she arranged for Death to be stolen, but the greater will has triggered his madness as punishment for Marika’s betrayal. He can’t know that she intends to kill a god. This is the kindest thing she can do for him. One last time, take up your blade for me, O Shadow of the Eternal. As he dies, he dies believing he’s failed Marika one last time. A truly miserable end. And yet, he played his part perfectly and succeeded in the task he holds above all others. Live and die in service to Queen Marika the Eternal.

I want to hold him with all the tenderness in the world as he passes away, comforting him and telling him that Marika sent me, that he did his duty and made her proud. That he’s forgiven. That I will never forget his sacrifice. I love Maliketh with all my heart and truly, he deserved a happier end.

[blognam333z]

Part 2 Prompt: After that miserable failure, the subordinate alien was put in time out. The boss sees this not as a warning but gives him more reason to believe that possessing a human body will be his perfect vessel. He kidnap another human and swap his mind with it. This time put the human, now in his real form, in containment as he has knowledge of its limits and needs. The boss relish the taste of pineapple juice, caffeine and other things deme poisonous for most extraterrestrial life forms in the universe! He feels invincible, but one challenge awaited him: sleep. Hardly any alien species outside from a human experience total consciousness shut down, the alien equivalent of DEATH.

This is what makes humans unique, even humans can’t explain. Many tales of visions of the future, sometimes a different life, sometimes randomness of memories and ideas woven together. The boss was hesitant, he made sure he’ll be monitored and secure surveillance so he won’t be disturbed.

It was suppose to be simple the human said, but the one thing he didn’t told him is the Paralysis demon.

The boss once he’s in trance and his subordinates guard outside in the hall standing on the front door of the room. He closes his eyes once the room grown dark… instead of nothingness or dreams. His eyes are closed yet he could still see the room, and wait what’s that dark figure in the room? Is that a human- no the guards should be alerted- no it’s getting closer he must grab his weapon, now! Why can’t he move- why can’t he see it’s face- why is it- That’s not a human… S-Stop! Stay back! I must call them- Someone help! W-why can’t I scream!? He can’t move, No, NO, NOOOOO-

Meanwhile in the prison cell:

H: *vibing in meditation* (mind: honestly this isn’t that bad, I could use a snickers bar now…)

In the morning

The boss alien let out a scream, petrified, drench in sweat: AAAAHH!!!

Guard A 1: Boss what’s wrong-

Boss A: YOU FOOLS I was endangered! I was attacked!

Guard A 2: Attacked? No I reviewed the security and there’s no-

Boss A: SILENCE! GIVE ME THE FOOTAGE!

Snatched the tablet and saw nothing

Guard A 1: B-Boss? Are you- you’re shaking

Boss A: I need to see the human… in my vessel, now! He’s hiding something from me!

In the prison cell:

H: What’s up- ohh… you look terrible, actually did I just insulted myself?

Boss A: No time for JOKES, Human explain this- this shadow beast! This beast whom-

H: What shadow beast? *thinks for a moment* Oooh… OOOOH! *laughs*

Boss A: What’s so funny? I knew you’re hiding information! Explain yourself at once!

H: Okay that’s a paralysis demon, it’s somehow attracted to humans, but not everyone. It’s unknown where they originated or why it stalk us in our sleep. Forced our eyes to see beyond our unconscious body, helpless, unmoving. Do I got it all check out on what you’ve just experienced, big guy?

Boss A: YES you did, now how do you get rid of it!

H: *laughs* get rid of it? What do you mean get rid of it?

Boss A: *growl* Human! Tell me or else!

H: There’s no way to get rid of it, it’s in a plain beyond our reach. No matter if you have someone in the room next to you or a weapon, it’ll always find appear before you. All you can do is wait until it’s bored or move on to the next human. For some unfortunate, it could last a life time. Legends say Paralysis demons devour a quarter or half a human life span. That somehow they flourish in our psyche energy, that’s why they’re invincible… even unreachable. (Mind: Just the look on his face! He’s going to lend me my body back! That’s what you get from taking my body! Let’s gooo my paralysis demon!)

[detta-pica]

“I’m fine.” He is. Suguru knows exactly what he has to do to free himself of the constant, unbearable thought spiral he’d fallen into for a while. Now that he’s decided on his next steps, his mind is blissfully quiet. “Exactly. We’re fine, so stop looking at me like I might disappear any second.” Satoru gets out of the elevator and limps down the hallway. He still moves gingerly around the limits imposed by his injuries, and the sight of it fills Suguru with boundless, directionless rage. Even his new conviction doesn’t help. Yet Satoru pays it no mind, eager to move on from their failure. He’s been spending all of his free time researching more powerful protective charms and reading up on Gojo divination rituals. Suguru understands. Satoru needs to feel in control again, powerful and safe. It’s unfortunate that his method is to create an illusion of untouchability around himself, while the clans continue to make his life miserable. It’s alright, though. Satoru doesn’t need to handle everything by himself. Suguru is here, too. He catches up to Satoru in front of the victim’s door. “I’m allowed to look at you.” “Any time you want,” Satoru agrees. “But be normal about it.” As if to demonstrate, he gives Suguru a once-over over the rims of his glasses, biting his lower lip. Suguru pushes him away by the cheek. Gently. “Focus. Put on your polite face.” “Why? That’s what you’re for.”

Another snippet from the stsg witch AU. Possibly the last part set in their youth.

[theinnerunderrain]

The apple of his eyes [Yan! Kazuha x Amnesiac! Reader]

Warnings: Yandere themes, amnesia, manipulation and gaslighting, objectification.

-

Love is a fruit that is always in season and within everyone's fingertips. There is no fixed constraint on who may gather it.

Kazuha reasoned that even if the affection was contrived, it was nevertheless a fruit of blessing and therefore only needed just that little prodding in the right direction. It was his own fruit, which he voluntarily spent time tending to by providing it with continual water, ample food, and trimming at the margins to allow for the healthy growth of new twinges.

"Who are you?"

Kazuha was a bit saddened by your sincere interest as she heard the inquiry leave your lips. But perhaps it was the results of his own behaviour—his failure to effectively manage his emotions. It was an error that he didn't intend to make but committed due to his strong sentiments towards you, which he vowed to better control.

He simply lost control and devoured a touch too much of the fruit.

But how can you condemn him when you're just too sweet for your own good?

"...Ah, you do not seem to remember me."

He mumbled, attempting to seem as miserable and distressed as he could, hoping to elicit your sympathy and cause you to shed your sense of guilt.

"I-I apologise for forgetting. If you just tell me, I might be able to recall certain things..!"

The sound of your bewildered voice prompted a ghost smile to briefly trail the edge of his lips, but the room's obscurity prevented you from seeing any of his smile because of how quickly it vanished.

"[First Name]."

He pronounced your name fluently, as if it were a weekly incantation he repeated to himself as part of his meditations. As though he was so accustomed to saying your name that it became an intrinsic part of his personality.

"There's no need to panic. You can refer to me as Kaedehara Kazuha, your friend."

His statement fell off the tip of his tongue, however it wasn't entirely a lie given that you two were friends prior to the occurrence. He wasn't really lying about anything; considering how close you two were to one another, some people might have even assumed you two were in a relationship.

So he didn't have to feel guilty about anything.

"Ah, so we're friends..!"

You inquired, gazing at him with anticipation as he finished speaking, as if it were a comfort to have a friend by your side who could assist you find your way down the memory lane. As you searched for memories of this alleged friend of yours, the term "friend" kept resonating in your head.

Yet nothing came to mind.

But the name Kazuha does sound oddly familiar, doesn't it?

Kazuha.

Kazuha.

Kazuha.

"You were involved in an accident, one that rendered your mind unconscious and blank. We are lucky enough to have you alive and well."

His lips were as seamless as caramel as he chatted, examining your visage for any indications of emotion as his crimson gaze skimmed over it. However, the only impression on your face was one of utter uncertainty, as if he were some kind of parent attempting to explain to their infant child the significance of the very first day of preschool.

"What sort of accident was I involved in?"

You asked, concealing a few stray hairs behind your ears while you awaited the man's response. The murmur of small ripples squirting against the ship seemed to resonate in the atmosphere, and the wobbling of the vessel made you feel somewhat apprehensive, even if you already got a sense of déjà vu simply being inside the boat.

"That's something I'm not sure of. A Crux crew member discovered your body lying on the shore. Here, drink some water."

Kazuha leaned over the bed and reached for a cup of water, pressing the rim of the grey cup on your lips and tilting your head back so the water would easily flow down your throat.

"I hope that helped you feel much better."

He smiled, setting the cup back to its original position, and then wiped the excess moisture from the corner of your lips with the sleeve of his shirt. Even someone with no memories would be able to tell that possibly Kazuha had a bit too much fondness for you based on his almost too endearing stare.

Yet you made no attempt to question him, only allowing him to gently care for you. Perhaps too afraid or too hesitant to freely question the young man.

"Now, as much as I would love to answer your question."

Kazuha positioned a gentle caress on your shoulder and cautiously eased you into the mattress. He then reached for the blanket and slid it over your body merely enough to encompass the majority of your body. The blanket smelled like syrup and leaves, much like Kazuha, and felt warm against your body amidst the cold night.

"Why don't you rest, and when the moment is right, we'll discuss tomorrow?"

+

What he was doing wasn't wrong.

Kazuha didn't force you to do anything and he didn't tell you any nasty falsehoods. He just added more components to the story.

Kazuha wouldn't even perceive it as pressuring since he wasn't employing any violent methods to ensure you comply with his dictates. So what if he was required to coerce the intimacy between the two of you?

He was essentially repainting over your image of him, as though he were commencing with a blank canvas and rewriting one of his compositions. Kazuha might even claim that your creation is his finest. Given that Kazuha was not a scientist and could not just concoct a love potion, it certainly necessitated some trial and error. He was aware of your doubts about him, yet you were forced to rely on him because you had no other reliable source.

To ensure that the fruit he sought blossoms properly, it just required a small amount of encouragement and a few words. He'll just have to erase your memories when you start to retrieve them, persuade you that you're mistaken, and how could you honestly trust yourself. Shouldn't you be relying on him instead since your mind is filled with voids and empty memories of the past?

You don't have to think of anything.

Let him serve as your compass, like a gardener steadily guiding his fruit in the right direction.

He should manoeuvre the fruit into his hand since there are no set restrictions on who has access to you.

Kazuha wasn't going to let anyone steal from him or ruin the quality of his produce.

Not after he worked so hard.

Not after he had to give you a little shove.

Not while you're clutching to him so affectionately and feeling grateful to your close friend for saving your life.

Not when his fruit is so luscious and red that it is at the pinnacle of its prime, able can be devoured at any time.

If Kazuha had to eliminate innumerable vines in order to obtain the fruit he desires, it wouldn't be beneficial for anyone, would it?

Just be good and listen to him.

[msmargaretmurry]

I'll gladly ask to be graced with more of your incredible writing! For the writing meme, could I request "things you didn’t say at all" for mattdrai? Please and thank you <3

man, i asked for these writing prompts and then immediately got my ass kicked for a week and haven’t gotten to any of them yet 😂 i promise i didn’t forget, it’s just going to be slow-going here for a while. (also, thank you! <3)

It’s worse, actually, Leon thinks, to get farther and then lose. Get knocked out early and at least you know you didn’t stand a chance. Get deep into the second round and you start thinking this might be the year. Get back to the conference final and you start to feel it in your bones. Get to game seven of the conference final, well, then you know, you just know that if you win that game you’ll finally, finally go all the way.

He’s pictured it so many times. Saucing the puck across the ice to land right on Connor’s stick. The game-winning pass, series-winning goal. The mayhem after, the hugs, the screaming and crying. The weight of the Cup in his hands, the cool metal against his lips.

Except they didn’t win the game, and just like that it’s the off-season again.

It’s well past midnight by the time Leon gets home. Always hard to convince himself to leave the locker room after the last game. Hard to think that it’s his last moment with the boys before everyone starts cleaning out their stalls and heading home for the summer. Hard to leave Connor, with his dead-eyed disappointment, cradling his broken hand like a baby bird. It’s been busted for a week, but they weren’t supposed to acknowledge it. Can’t let onto your weak spots in the playoffs.

In some past years, some of them have gone for a drink after the season-ending loss, or gathered at Connor’s to numb the pain of another failure of a season together. This year no one seemed even up for that. They hugged, told each other good season, and went home to their families. Bowie counts as family.

Leon’s phone is ringing. He is so tempted not to answer it, but they’ve talked about that. He’s grateful it’s not a video call. They’ve talked about that, too.

“Talk fast, I’m tired,” he says when he answers, even though he’s nowhere near ready for bed. He flopped onto the couch when he got home; Bowie fell asleep on top of him, and so he hasn’t moved since. Doesn’t really feel like moving. 

“Hey,” Matthew says. “Sorry about the game.”

“No you’re not,” Leon says. Matthew does not dignify that with a response. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?” Both of them stick to a pretty strict schedule during the playoffs. They haven’t actually spoken in weeks. Can’t afford to lose focus, not that it helped in the end anyway. Well, not for Leon. It’s still working great for Matthew.

“Travel day tomorrow,” Matthew says. “I can nap on the plane if I need to.”

Leon doesn’t really have anything to say to that. He smooths his hand over Bowie’s back, scratches his ears. The dog snuffles but doesn’t wake up, his steady little breaths warm against Leon’s chest.

No, Leon does have a response. The response is: I’m so fucking jealous I feel like I might throw up. Or: do you really think you deserve this chance more than me? You already had it once. Why isn’t it my turn? But none of those are things he’ll be glad he said in the morning. Contrary to popular belief, he can hold his tongue when he wants to. Usually.

Matthew is going to invite him down to Florida, he just knows it. Maybe not right now, maybe tomorrow, but soon, anyway. He’ll give his spiel about great weather, about guest rooms and plenty of space, and sure his family is there too but no one will make a big deal out of it. No one will expect Leon to go to games; he can just float in the pool all day, and, fuck, what Leon wouldn’t give to spend the next week in bed, tangled up with Matthew and forgetting about the rest of the world, but that’s not how any of this works. He’s either going to see Matthew in a couple weeks, both of them miserable, or not see him for months because he’s too eaten up inside with envy to be in the same room as him.

Matthew says, “Well, I just wanted to check on you, but I won’t keep you up.”

Leon lets out a long, long, long breath.

“Okay,” he says. “Thanks for calling.”

“Of course. Talk to you soon.”

Good luck, Leon should say, but he can’t get it off his tongue.

“Yeah,” he says. “Talk to you soon.”

[themultifandomgal]

Hey sweetheart =)

I LOVE your wonderful writing and wanted to thank you for making me happy with your stories. Such a safe place is so important to escape the cruel reality sometimes. I have a request for you and really hope you're up for writing it. Please let me know if you like it. It's a protective Kelly Severide x fem! Oc or reader fic. Kelly has a new neighbor and he's instantly taken aback from this young beautiful woman. Unfortunately she suffers from a heart failure and because of that she's often dizzy and nauseous (maybe Kelly finds her one day nearly passed out on her doorstep and since that day they're getting closer. Worried Kelly... I'm desperate for it :D) after a while she gets to know the whole firehouse which instantly loves the shy girl. She even helps Herman with the Bookkeeping of Molly's. Kelly and the whole team always has an eye on her and helps when she's feeling miserable because auf her heart disease. Her life could be perfect, when there wasn't danger lurking around the corner. She's running from her stalking ex and he seemed to find her. Harassing her with messages and calls on her phone. Her friends from 51 notice her change, the jumpiness and her pale appearance but she brushes it off. One day at Kelly's (they are definitely growing closer even shared a kiss) he "accidentally" reads a text message (because he got suspicious days ago because her mobile is constantly getting messages) from her stalker, but Kelly assumes that she's seeing another man. He confronts her and says some nasty things totally in shock she can't defend herself and he kicks her out. Super dizzy she because of the stress and her alleviated heart rate she stumbles in her apartment, nearly in panic that she lost Kelly. The next day Herman worries that she's more than one hour late, because she wanted to help him at Molly's with the books. He calls Kelly and Kelly, even brooding and full of anger he checks on her. She doesn't opens the door and worried sick he uses his spare keys (he finds her on her bathroom floor on the brink of unconsciousness. She was there the whole night throwing up. With a racing heart and struggling with breathlessness he brings her in his apartment, calling Will in panic....)

Will she reveal her secret, are they come clean with theit feelings for each other? Incoming happy end 🙏🥺

Sorry for this long shit. Couldn't hold my horses. HOPEFULLY it's a content you would like to write about. I'm a sucker for sick fics and protective Kelly with angst, drama and fluff.

Well, send you my best wishes ❤️

Kelly Severide- I’m Here To Stay Pt1

Sorry this took so long for me to write but I hope you enjoyed this one as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Kelly Severide gets ready to leave the firehouse  after a long day at work

"Spoken to the new neighbour yet?" Capp smiles wiggling his eyebrows throwing his bag over his shoulder

"Shut up" Kelly crosses his arms

"So that's a no then. Well you never know you might be lucky to tonight"

For the last 2 weeks now Kelly has been giving his new neighbour a small wave and smile, but has yet to introduce himself to her. He finds her rather attractive, but what's weird is normally Kelly has no problem going up to a pretty girl, but YN? YN seems different, there's something about her that makes Kelly loose all of his words. Once his co-workers found this out a week ago, they have done nothing but torture him.

Now YN wasn't unaware of how attractive her neighbour is. He was her type to a tea, but seeing him coming home in his firemen uniform made her shy, to shy to go up and say hi. Not only that but why would she want to bother her new neighbour with her illness? She's already talking to doctors at Chicago med about having a heart valve replacement. Capp was right. That evening Kelly saw YN sat with her head in her hands. He slowly makes his way over to the woman

"Hi, erm are you ok?" YN looks up at Kelly

"Oh erm yeah don't worry. Just had a dizzy spell don't worry"

"Let me help you inside"

"Oh no don't worry I'm fine" YN slowly gets up but starts to sway

"Yeah your not right. Let me help you" giving in YN gives Kelly her keys. He guides her into her house and into the living room and sits her down "let me get you a drink. Where do you keep your glasses?"

"Cupboard above the bread bin, but you really don't need to...." before YN can finish her sentence Kelly has left the room and making his way to the kitchen. He soon returns with a glass full of juice "found some orange squash, thought you could do with a bit of sugar"

"Thank you" YN takes the glass off Kelly

"We've not formally met one another yet. I'm Kelly by the way"

"I'm YN" YN and Kelly shake hands. YN then takes a large gulp of her juice and starts to feel better

"How are you feeling now?" Kelly asks, concern still laced in his voice

"Much better thank you"

That evening the pair spent many hours talking and getting to know one another. A friendship quickly blossomed between the two. After a week Kelly couldn't stop talking about his beautiful, kind and funny neighbour. The rest of the firehouse all knew that his friendship was blossoming into more, even if the pair couldn't yet see it.

YN actually told Kelly about her heart condition fairly early on in their friendship, having this feeling that she can just trust him. Kelly of course has to make sure his new friend is ok, he will text her everyday asking how she is, and now YN will message Kelly by her own accord if she's struggling that day.

Kelly sits at the table with a plate full of food in front of him when he gets a text off YN letting him know she isn't feeling very well today. Kelly sighs putting his sandwich down

"What's up with your face?" Leslie asks sitting opposite Kelly

"Just YN isn't feeling very well today"

"You care a lot about her don't you?"

"We're friends"

"Hmm keep telling yourself that Severide. You care like how a boyfriend would care. Why don't you go and pick her up. Bring her here for the day. That way you can stop worrying about her"

"You think Chief would allow that?" Kelly raises a brow at his best friend who shrugs

"Go ask him" and so Kelly does just that.

At first Boden laughs thinking Kelly was joking, but once he realises how serious he's being, Boden can't do anything but say yes letting YN spend the day at the firehouse, especially after Kelly told him that YN has a heart condition.

That day was spent with YN in Kelly's office, catching up on last nights sleep and Kelly looking after her. Over time YN got closer to Kelly telling him everything about her. About her ex who was to clingy (like obsessive) and how she's trying to stay hidden from him. Of course Kelly took this as his role to keep her safe and look after her.

[bijouxcarys]

Daddy’s Attention (short imagine)

Masterlist (requests are open)

Pairing: Robert Plant x Unnamed Fem OC

Warnings: this is pure FILTH, minors should stay the hell away. NSFW. OH and there's a Daddy kink. So yeah. Shaming is not tolerated.

Word count: 1,091

I imagined Manic Nirvana (1990) era Robert for this, but it's not explicitly stated. Imagine whatever era Robert you want!

Tag list: @brownskinsugarplum76 @firethatgrewsolow @ourshadowstallerthanoursoul @whothefuckisanja @callmethehunter @strsmn @m-faithfull @chromations @celestial-dragoness (if you'd like to be added, let me know!)

She flinched forward, her lips pressed tightly together as she endured yet another sting to the supple skin of her backside. Tears pricked at her eyes. Her knuckles whitened as she gripped desperately at the silk-rope restraints around both wrists. Secured behind her back.

He was teasing her. Pretending to let up on the punishment with gentle strokes of his tepid fingers against her heated skin. Just as she thought she could take a moment to breathe, he’d land another one. Then repeat.

Don’t misunderstand; she had never been more aroused. This was the arrangement she chose to partake in. She was the one who approached him. She had no regrets.

She was his naughty little girl.

The twentieth collision of his palm with her backside sent a twentieth flutter deep down inside.

He reminded her of her misdemeanour. The failure to hold back her release earlier in the night as his talented tongue danced all over her weeping nectar.

What else was she supposed to do? Keep silent and unvexed as her older lover dropped to his knees in the confines of a ladies restroom, situated in the very public restaurant in which an entire event in his honour was being held?

Yes. That’s exactly what she was supposed to do. Yet, she failed. Miserably. Not only did she succumb to the power of Robert Plant, but she allowed herself to whimper in the process.

How dare she.

Robert looked over the state of the pretty young thing he’d made his three months prior. She was perfect for him. Provided everything he needed. The domestic bliss. The companionship. The adventure. The zest for life.

What he needed now was to give her a potent refresher that Daddy doesn’t play.

He already gagged her with his cock, slowly fucked her mouth until he himself was right on the edge. If he wanted, he could’ve unloaded right down her pretty throat, but he wanted to enjoy this. He wanted both of them to enjoy it.

As she whimpered the final count of twenty, there was a tinge of disappointment that this phase of her punishment was over. Her core was pulsating and contracting, even without being touched.

Robert was steady as he moved her to the side, making sure her head was laid against the satin bedsheets, and her delectable rear pointed North.

She was raw, ready, and yearning. She needed Daddy’s attention in every sense of the word. Whilst she was unable to run her fingers through his soft curls now, she knew that would come later; after she learned her lesson through an incessant piercing of her body from his bulging cock.

Robert wasted very little time in manoeuvring her to face the full length mirror beside the bed. He needed her to watch as he impaled her, opened her, filled her up.

And she would.

A fistful of her hair was tangled around his long fingers, a delicious pain igniting her perception as he closed his hand into a rigid fist. Her head was yanked upwards, forced to look at the mirror. They were like two strangers partaking in a sordid, synonymous encounter of voyeurism and exhibitionism.

Robert’s muscles were tense as he kept her held up by her hair, angling his cock to push inside her awaiting orifice. She clenched immediately, basking in the way Daddy made her feel so full.

He told her how gorgeous she looked. All sore and aching, tied up and under his command. So exemplary. Never had he experienced a creature so sublime, and if he had, it had been such a long time.

Pace set, it didn’t take long for Robert’s constant words of humiliating praise to turn into animalistic growls and grunts.

For a moment, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from how viscerally she bounced off of his cock, coating him in all the honey he had induced. Her rear was glowing, and her back arched towards the bed. The poor thing even asked if she was allowed to moan. So obedient, when she wanted to be.

Robert couldn’t deny hearing the feminine noises that he forced out of her as he fucked her so vigorously from behind. The way she’d make little sounds that reverberated in her chest every time his hips bolted against her. In the reflection, he caught glimpses of her marked chest, observing how he manipulated the movement of her beautiful breasts, pert nipples erect and sensitive from his earlier attack.

She let loose. Panting, whimpering, wining, screaming… it felt so good. The behemoth of a man behind her took full control, dominating every ounce of her being, her life, with his skilled, experienced body. She inched closer to her grand release, delighting in his full, tight balls slapping relentlessly against her throbbing clit.

The boys her age never treated her this good. Never made her writhe, mewl, and sob like Daddy did.

He let go of her hair, but swiftly moved to grab a hold of her neck. He yanked her up, leaning himself backwards so she was pressed against his fuzzy chest. She could feel the cool metal of his chains shocking her back as he forced them into a position that resembled the reverse cowgirl.

But Daddy was still in control.

He grunted into her ear, telling his good little slut to soak him, to make a mess, to cum all over his cock.

“Daddy!”

He’d never get tired of hearing that. It made him twitch inside her, and he found himself once again holding back on exploding. His thighs burned as he continued cracking his hips upwards.

Upon hearing her desperate begging, he encouraged her, validated and demeaned her all at once, to let go. She’d earned it. She’d been such a good girl. She’d taken her punishment so well.

Her hips jolted as Daddy’s stimulating slaps to her clit detonated her with an erotic force, choking his cock with her release. In the midst of her daze, Robert pushed her forwards until he was laid almost flat over her, gyrating his hips until he had no choice but to flood her with his love. His hands grabbed onto the silk rope around hers, his nose pressed into her shoulder as he relished the comedown.

She laid there, a satisfied smile on her face as she took in the warmth of her Daddy covering her. Exactly where she wanted to be.

And as Daddy drifted off into his slumber, to lay dormant until his next summoning, Robert commenced his duty of aftercare.

[royalsweetteaa]

Good Intent

Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x Homeless!Reader

Chapter 2

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

WARNING - This story contains the following: dark themes such as kidnapping, non-con/rape, obsessive behavior/possessive behavior/delusional behavior on Ransom’s part, Ransom being a creep in general, toxic relationship dynamic, Stockholm syndrome on reader’s part, abuse of power, classism, size kink, manipulation, angst, a bit of sad!Ransom, eventual fluff.

Ch. | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

Summary: Ransom is going through a life crisis where he’s miserable and he wants to change things up to make his daily life more interesting. The change involves taking the freedom of someone who he deems is beneath societal suitability.

Narrator’s POV

Y/N’s vision was blurry when she first blinked her eyes open. Being in a room she has never been in before didn’t phase her until she stood up from the bed, her eyes slowly adjusting. She rubbed her eyes before scanning her surroundings, seeing an open door leading to what looked like a bathroom and another one closed, she assumed the door leading outside to, - whatever’s out there.

She felt her heart sink when an eerie memory of the man who came by yesterday had his hand shoved against the lower part of her face, hushing her before it went dark. Have I been abducted? She wondered, while placing her hand to her chest to calm her rapidly beating heart. This was not how she imagined being abducted at all. She had thought of it a few times before after she started sleeping outside on the streets. Anything could happen when you weren’t in the safety of your own home, but she didn’t think it was like this - in a nice bedroom with lots of essential supplies. She assumed those were for her anyway.

She noticed her jacket was hanging on a chair by the corner, which led her to also notice her bra was missing. She knew for certain she didn’t do anything herself to remove it. Did he….

Y/N’s sweat turned cold. She was drugged and unconscious for several hours. What more could he have done to her that she wasn’t aware of?

She stopped thinking of anything else, instinctively grabbing her jacket and sprung to the closed door. To her surprise - it was open. She was now in a hallway, where the end seemed to reach what looked like a living room and a staircase going downwards beside it. Okay, so there are two floors… With quiet steps and her head low, she reached for the door leading outside from the second floor. She cursed when she wiggled the doorknob only for it to be locked. Y/N headed down the stairs instead, scanning the open space, and saw the main house entrance. When no one came into her view, she sprinted towards the door, yet again met with no luck. Not accepting failure - she wriggled the door handle aggressively, hoping somehow it would magically open.

“Someone’s up and early.” A tired voice came from the staircase. Y/N turned her head immediately, her eyes locking with Ransom’s - her abductor. She let out a squeal and proceeded to try and break the glass door with her elbow, only to be met by immense pain. The glass didn’t even get a scratch.

“Now, now, there’s no need for that.” He said annoyed. “The glass around this house is very resistant against minimal impact. You can throw a chair and the glass will most likely be able to take it. You better not test that theory though.” His last sentence hinted a threat.

Y/N looked up from her now wounded elbow and frighteningly stared at him. “What do you want from me? Why did you take me?”

Her eyes followed him to the kitchen which was only feet away from the main entrance. He opened the freezer and looked around through the containments.

“It’s simple really. You rejected me so I took you by force because you obviously didn’t know what my offer implied. You know - my offer to stay at my place? Remember that?” He chuckled as if he had just told her a joke. “How dense can a person be to reject someone like me? You’re homeless for fuck ‘sake! Didn’t know a person like you - the lowest member of society - could deny me. It’s insulting.”

Y/N’s POV

I didn’t know why his cruel words hurt me. He’s the one who’s crazy and took me against my will, yet guilt made its way through my mind.

“I-I’m sorry if I seemed ungrateful but I genuinely couldn’t take upon that offer. I reached out to the youth shelter a couple of days ago and was accepted a place to stay there. They offer programs for an education and I knew it was the right thing for me. But you had to take me away and it’s past 06:00 AM, isn’t it?…” looking out at the weather, I didn’t need an answer to my question. The bus must have driven away a long time ago.

My eyes were threatening to spill tears at this point. “W-Why did you kidnap me?…surely there must be a reason other than having your own ego stroked…are you planning on hurting me?”

I froze when he closed the fridge behind him and walked towards my way, with an item in his hand. His tall figure scared me. He could kill me with his bare hands if he wanted to. I was sure of it. When he stood close enough, he frowned. He must have noticed the way I flinched when he reached his hand out to me. He sighed as if he was growing tired of my paranoia. Could he really blame me?

“Your arm, - give it to me.” He ordered. I did as he wanted, still trying to make out what he had in his hand. He revealed a bag of ice. He turned my arm so that my elbow became accessible to him. I hissed in pain when he pressed it against the sore spot, and he hushed me gently. “Shhh, it’s okay. Luckily for you, you didn’t break anything - from the way I see it. The ice should help easing the pain.” He said, gesturing for you to hold the ice on your own. I did so and let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

Still, the way he would hush at me triggered something within me. He hushed me when he drugged me, and now he did it again. It was a reminder of a much darker side to him, no matter how nice he may act at times.

He stared into my eyes, his hand reaching out to my cheek and rubbed it with his thumb ever so softly. His eyes darted down to my lips. I was embarrassed by the silence and didn’t know where to look, but Ransom’s staring contest ended when he turned around and walked away. I was left confused as to why he caressed my face like that. What is going through that man’s mind?

He turned his head one last time to look at me and said, “You could really use some time to refresh yourself. You’ll find everything you need in the bathroom beside your bedroom.” He then headed to the other room beside the kitchen.

“But you didn’t answer any of my questions….” I mumbled.

2nd person POV

You were back in what you suppose you could call your new room, and you decided a shower would be nice to keep your mind off of everything.

Last time you took a shower was in one of those public showers by the beach near town. That was 6 days ago. You can’t remember the last time you used a bathroom like this though. It was modern and looked brand new, - it had probably never even been used. The shelves were stocked with shampoos, body cream, hairbrushes and much more.

For a moment you were impressed, but dread took over you as you realized this would be the bathroom you use until you somehow manage to get out of here. You had no idea when that would be or if that time would ever come.

Shaking your head, you decided to peel off your clothes and put them on the bed before grabbing a towel and putting it on one of those hangers close by the shower. When you pulled on the shower crane, you thought you heard rustling noises coming from outside but you shrugged it off, assuming it was the water system making them.

It didn’t take long before your whole body was being rinsed by the water coming from the shower head. You let the water soak your face as you closed your eyes, appreciating the peace it was currently giving you. You picked a random soap bar and rubbed it around your skin, the fragrance of coconut soon apparent to your smell. This was nice, you thought to yourself.

This peace would however soon be interrupted in the worst way possible.

The shower cabinet opened. You quickly turned and shrieked when you saw your abductor at full display, naked before you. You were about to duck down in an attempt to cover yourself, but Ransom grabbed you by the shoulder and held you still while closing the shower cabinet behind him.

“Mind if I join you, kitten?” He said with a voice that would have gotten you on your knees if the circumstance was different. He was no doubt very attractive with his face of a Disney prince, his body of a Greek god with his chiseled chest and - Oh. Oh no.

Looking down you saw the most enormous cock you had ever seen face to face, hard and leaking with pre-cum, twitching against his stomach. He was aroused. You were filled with terror as you realized his real intent of being here in the shower with you.

“N-No, get out, Hugh! You can’t be here right now!” You cried out, trying to push him away but he didn’t budge. His hands roamed around your curves, teasing your inner thighs as he was getting closer and closer to your most sensitive parts. His nose nuzzled against your neck, inhaling your scent.

“You smell so good, Y/N…such a good girl. Washing yourself and getting all cleaned up just for me.” He purred, his voice causing my whole body to shiver in delight. “Have you washed your lady parts yet?”

You frantically nodded, hoping to dear life that he wouldn’t go anything further than touching you sensually. “I-I have, I promise! Please don’t touch me! I don’t want this, Hugh, I really don’t!“ tears were spilling down cheeks as you clawed his arms away.

His whole body hunched over you, cornering you in the shower. “Aw, don’t cry, darling. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to put it in today. I just need to feel you, and help you become clean.” He soothed, wiping away your tears. “Fuck, your skin is so smooth. I bet your pussy lips will feel so good against my dick.”

He put some vanilla soap lotion onto his hand and used it to lube his cock. A deep exhale left his mouth as he briefly closed his eyes at the sensation. You looked to the side, still attempting to cover your breasts but you knew there was no point. He has already seen them before.

His other hand reached up to your clit and rubbed it. He had a mission of his own, which was to make this equally as pleasurable for you as to him. He wanted you to give in. Your hands held onto his shoulders at the sudden stimulation.

“Turn around.” He ordered. You looked up at him with pleading eyes.

“No, please..you said you weren’t gonna-,” “And I’m not going to put it in. Didn’t say I wouldn’t do anything at all now, did I?”

He grabbed you by the waist. “Now turn around and ass up - spread your legs, but not too wide.” Your trembling form listened to his command. You were naked and vulnerable. All spirit and hope had left you at this moment. Your fate was sealed ever since he pressed that handkerchief up your face, and it made you regret not leaving the area when you could have.

Now you were here, cornered like prey, about to be devoured by the predator. You were no match to the huge man with broad shoulders and muscles more visible now with his sweater off. Being drugged instead of conscious sounded like a better option to you now.

“Hugh, please…I don’t want to do whatever you’re planning to-!” “You either quit fucking whining or I’ll have to put a gag on you.”

Your mouth shut at his threat. His swollen tip nudged at your butt before seeping between your inner thighs. His cock glided upwards, giving your weeping pussy some friction and making your thighs squeeze together instinctively.

“Ahh fuck, there we go. Didn’t even have to tell you twice. You’re giving my cock the perfect fit between those delicious thighs.” He said amused. “I can feel your pussy throbbing, darling. M’gonna clean her nice with my dick, okay? You’re gonna love it.”

Ransom’s hips started to buck into you, repeating the same motion of dragging his cock out then slamming back in through your thighs. Those moments where he was fully slotted himself in would cause the mushroom tip of his cock to nudge at your clit, making you feel the stimulation that was building up to a potential orgasm. The pleasurable sensation made your knees weak, but thanks to Ransom’s hands, he was able to hold you up.

“That feel good, kitten? Does my cock feel good against your pussy?” You were letting out restrained moans, but you couldn’t hold it any longer as he snaked his hand to your clit again, rubbing the sensitive nub. “Oh, the way you’re moaning, - I just know I’m touching the right spots. Poor pussy hasn’t gotten off in a while, has it? Makes me so fucking hard knowing I’m the first to touch you for a long time…bet you’re fucking tight.”

He stopped pulling all the way out and kept a repeating pace of having his cock constantly dragging through your pussy lips. It made it even more difficult for you to prevent from reaching your climax, which was Ransom’s full intent.

“C’mon, I know you’re close…let go, kitten. Cum for me.”

“I-I don’t wanna, please don’t make me…” you whined to no avail.

“Then I guess I’ll just cum without you….but I doubt you have any resistance left to deny yourself like that.”

He quickened the pace, this time moving one hand to your stomach and closing the gap between your bodies. It was as though he didn’t want to risk you moving away from him when you were both chasing your highs.

“Fuck, ‘m,gonna cum…feels too fuckin’ good.” He moaned, his hot breath tickling your neck. “I’m gonna smear my cum all over your wet cunt. Claim you as mine…”

He was caught off guard when he felt you grinding your hips against his cock, chasing your orgasm with him. It made him grin wickedly. He has you where he wants you.

“o-oh god,” you moaned. “ I’m-,”

“Aaah ffuckk, I’m cumming!” Ransom rasped, shooting his first spurts of his seed onto the shower wall before aiming his cock upwards to smear what was left onto your pussy. His seed blended well with your creamy wetness.

The both of you held still onto each other as you came down from your highs, waiting till your breaths became regulated.

“That was fucking amazing..” Ransom finally said, and gave your shoulder a kiss before removing his softening cock away from you.

He took the shower head and properly rinsed the soap from his cock before turning to you. With his arms wrapped around you, he held the shower head between your thighs. “Spread your legs for me, kitten.” You did as he said, letting out sharp breaths from the way the water steamed on your overly stimulated nub. He hummed, pleased at what he had done to you. “You’re sensitive now, hm? Fucking adorable the way you squirm.” He then turned the crane off and let you go carefully. You remained still with your hands on the shower wall, catching your breath.

He left the shower cabinet before you, handing you your towel which you reluctantly grabbed. You were still experiencing aftershocks from your orgasm, not being able to control the way you trembled. Not only that, but you were in utter shock. A part of you still thought this was a a nightmare, but you knew it wasn’t as much as you wanted to pretend it was.

After standing still for a while, you took a step out of the shower and walked towards the bedroom where Ransom had gone off to. All you wanted to do was to gather your clothes and get the hell away from him.

“W-where are my clothes?” You asked, looking around the bedroom. Your sight was blurred by new tears welling up in your eyelids, making it harder to see.

“Oh, I threw them out in the trash before joining you in the shower. They looked overused and had holes anyway, so I ordered a new set of clothes for you online but its estimated arrival isn’t until tomorrow morning. You can wear my sweater in the meantime.” He said, and pointed to his blue sweater he had placed on the bed.

He must have prepared all of this before entering the bathroom and molesting you.

You held your towel tightly around your body and sat down on the bed. There was only a sweater. No trousers, no underwear, no undergarments at all. Tears were once again spilling down your already wet cheeks. You suspect you’ll be crying a lot for a long time.

“Tsk, tsk, why are you still crying? I know it’s not much but it’s not like I have any spare women’s underwear in my wardrobe.” He said, and put on his trousers.

“You are horrible, Hugh…y-you touched me even when I said no several times. You…..sexually assaulted me. How can I not be crying?” You said and sniffled. Your cheeks were soaked with tears, feeling terrible from what went down only minutes earlier. It made you even more furious that the guy showed no remorse for assaulting you.

Ransom shook his head, putting on the last remaining item of clothes being his socks. “You need to get it together, Y/N. That….that wasn’t what it was. I know you enjoyed it just as much, - why else would you get wet? You were grinding on my dick too, - don’t try to deny it.”

Shame washed over you like a wave. Your body might have enjoyed it, but your mind didn’t in the slightest. You knew he was twisting it but it made you question yourself. Was your body that detached from your mind? Why was it craving to be touched by him when you didn’t want to? You didn’t understand.

“You should get used to it, you know. I’m keeping you for a long time and you’re gonna learn to like it. I can give everything to you, you just need to ask. No more sleeping on the streets, no more relying on shitty shelters. All you need is to depend on me.” He said, caressing her shoulder.

“So, this is it? You just keep me here, give me nice things and force yourself on me? Like some twisted sugar daddy and sugar baby relationship?”

Ransom chuckled at that. “That’s a fun way of simplifying it. But let’s make one thing straight, - it’s not rape if you enjoy it, kitten. Your pretty little head is confused and you don’t know what you want yet but your body makes it clear.”

You were going to protest but he continued as he closed the gap between the two of you. “Our bodies always gives out signals when it wants something, no? Your stomach rumbles when it wants food, the body goes tired and numb when it needs rest, and lastly…” he leaned into your ear, “- your pussy gets wet and creamy when it needs a cock to stuff you full of cum, and I’m more than happy to provide you with that any time.” He whispered against your skin and pulled away after to take a good look at you. “You should listen to what your body wants, or else you might go crazy.”

Your face became flushed, a sense of dizziness overtaking you. “That’s not true, you’re just making things up! Y-You’re trying to justify a crime, Hugh-!”

Ransom captured your lips so suddenly, making your eyes go wide. He pressed the back of your head with his hand so he could deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue in your mouth. He smiled through the kiss as the sound of a moan managed to slip out of you.

“Call me Ransom. It’s my middle name, and I much more prefer you calling me that.” His eyes softened but maintained his signature smirk.

“Get yourself dressed. You’ll find me in the living room. I expect you to be there in less than 15 minutes.”

Wearing the sweater that reached down to over your knees, you made your way to the living room with quiet steps. You had dried your hair with the hairdryer, your hair smelling like lavender. You used a strawberry body lotion after drying your skin.

You liked the smell, and you much more preferred to get rid of that strong firewood mixed with cinnamon scent that supposedly came from Ransom’s cologne. You didn’t want to have any traces of him on your body. His lingering smell, his bruising touches - it made you sick.

From where you stood you could hear a TV was on, and you hoped for dear life Ransom wasn’t planning a movie night. You would not play into his games of pretending like any of this was normal. You still had a lot of questions left unanswered too.

Ransom came into view, already settled comfortably on the couch. He was munching on some cookies while looking at his phone, not paying any attention to the TV right in front of him. You cursed under your breath when your halting step made a creaking sound. Of course it had to do that. Ransom’s head turned to the sound, face going smug when he saw you. He didn’t take his eyes off you while you made your way towards him.

Ransom’s POV

Y/N’s appearance alone brightened my mood instantly. I had minutes earlier gotten a message from one of my latest hook ups, asking if I could come over for ‘a night of a lifetime’. I rolled my eyes at that, remembering how the bitch would moan exaggeratedly whenever I barely even touched her. It annoyed me, but she made up for her fake tits and ass. Despite that, I had no interest in ever hooking up with her again, and proceeded to block her number. I had firmly set up a rule for myself that my hook up days were over.

After all, my new source of entertainment was in my house and wearing my sweater. She was mine to explore this new life style with, and to claim as mine. I knew she was ‘hesitant’ and shy at the moment, but I knew I would make her worship me with my entire being eventually. As she should. She would soon realize the honor of being a Drysdale’s charity case. -

I couldn’t help but frown when I saw her sitting on the other side of the couch, the furthest one could sit from where I was sitting. She could tell by my face expression that I found an issue with her placement.

“Why are you sitting all over there? Still scared of me?” I asked tauntingly.

She seemed to ponder over her response, unsure of what to say. “I guess you could say I am, yeah. I mean, I still don’t know why I’m here and you won’t tell me…- you don’t tell me anything.” She concluded. Her voice was raspy, probably from all the crying earlier.

I looked over at the TV to have a brief distraction. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to tell her everything as it was. It could effect her adapting process if she knew my real intentions. I had told her that all I wanted was her to rely on me, but I didn’t feel it was necessary to admit she was here to fulfill my thirst of having a little plaything to fill the void of loneliness I had succumbed to.

“Want one?” I took out a cookie from the bag and reached it out to her. She shook her head and pulled a pillow to her chest, perhaps out of trying to find comfort. My face turned bitter. Not only was she denying me again, but she was stubborn. I was again irritated that she had the audacity to act like this when I pulled her away from a hell of a life.

“I don’t want anything from you, Ransom. I don’t understand why you picked me for this forced arrangement…you hardly even know me and I don’t know anything about you either. All I want is to be free.”

Ah yes, freedom. As if her freedom provided her anything like I have. What a foolish woman.

I decided then that it would be better to go a little harsh on her, by crushing the little confidence she may have in her. I was always good at that.

“There’s really not much to it other than the fact that I knew no one would be looking for you. I have looked for someone like you to do whatever I please with and you’re perfect. You’re homeless, your family doesn’t love nor care about you, no one fucking cares if you disappear the next day. Worst case is that the shelter you reached out to sends a missing person report because you never turned up, but that’s all hope you’ve got, Y/N. And no one will suspect you’re here of all places. I know for a fact there are no cameras in that street you stayed at and even if someone managed to catch a fucking glimpse of me taking you, you wouldn’t stand a chance against me and my lawyers.”

Y/N was in awe through most of my talk. I stood up from the couch and made my way over to her. “But think of it this way - I actually care about you, Y/N. Like I said earlier, you can get just about anything from me, because unlike you, I have wealth. I am a someone in this unfair world. You on the other hand are at the bottom - in other words, nothing. But I can change that. You need me. Don’t you understand?” I knelt in front of her, staring into her eyes with a stern look. “You have nothing compared to the kind of power I have, so you might as well give up any hope you have left in you. -“ and give into me.

Her lips wobbled, seemingly out of words. There was a long and torturing silence between us, - the two of us were practically holding our breaths until one of us would speak. I longed after a response, for her to tell me I was right and that she was mine. That she is nothing without me. God, if not now I would do everything in my power to break her down until she begged me to fuck her while she praised me at the bottom of my feet. I wanted to caress her in my lap while she begged me to take good care of her - to never let her go. Because without me, she’s fucking done for. It’s nothing but the truth.

But of course, her ungrateful ass would not allow herself to admit it yet. Instead, she looked up with sadness all over face. “I’m going back to my room.” She said quietly.

Y/N rose up, but I grabbed her wrist and pushed her back on the sofa. “No, you fucking won’t. You’re gonna learn to fucking like it here and stop being so stubborn.” I grabbed her jaw and licked a long stripe around her neck before climbing onto the sofa with her beneath me. I kissed her roughly, my hand reaching under the sweater where I found her bare pussy. She was dripping.

She was crying again, and I whispered sweet nothings into her ear to comfort her.

“Darling Y/N, it’s okay, I’m only trying to care for you.”

“What I said was nothing but the harsh reality, can’t you see I have good intent?”

“I’ll give you what you need, don’t worry your pretty little head.”

I unzipped my trousers and let them slide down, my cock was already rock hard from the sight before me. She looked so vulnerable in my sweater, depending on it to cover herself but she knew it was useless to hide from me. She leaned to the side as means of moving away from me but I wouldn’t let her.

“It’s okay, darling, c’mere and present yourself to me. If you’d let me I could make you feel so good. Don’t you want that?”

I stroked her leg before leaning my body against hers. My cock smeared precum on her tummy, the contact making her yelp in surprise. God, she was such a sweet little thing.

We made out for a while as I grinded my body against hers, her legs in the air as I nestled myself between them. We were a perfect fit, our bodies complimented each other so well. She seemed to submit to me soon enough, imitating the same motion of rubbing her pussy against me. I had promised not to fuck her tight little hole yet, and I could live with that. There were so many things I could do instead to rile her up into wanting more. Still, it didn’t hurt to ask. Maybe I had blinded her enough with lust to make her want me inside.

“Do you want me to fuck you, kitten? Hm? Want me to split you open and make a mess for me?” I stopped my movements and waited for her to answer.

She shook her head and whispered a ‘please no’. I could tell she was aroused. The stained couch of her juice beneath us confirmed as much, but I digress. I sighed and removed myself from her. She looked surprised, almost distraught but I ignored it. Instead, I moved myself further away till my face met upon her pussy.

“Alright, kitten. What I’m gonna do instead is to eat your pussy out. Need to taste your creamy juices or it’ll go to waste.” I said before diving in. I explored her, lapping my tongue to her leaking hole before nearing her clit. Her whole body jolted and she let out a breathless moan while her hands gripped onto my head, tangling her fingers into my hair. She wasn’t pushing me away but rather the opposite - she was pulling me in to go further. Good.

My tongue flickered around her folds, salvaging her sweet taste. A familiar scent made its way to my noise and I grinned smugly. “My cock did a good job cleaning you. Smells like vanilla down here.” I snickered.

Y/N mewled, letting out unfiltered noises that went straight down to my dick. My hand reached out to her tit and I squeezed it. I loved how soft they were and how they fit into my hands perfectly. She was exceptional in every aspect.

I was never letting her go from my grasp.

Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated! <3

[fernshawart]

Prompts to develop a cane user character

Hey there ! You may know me for this post, how to write a cane user character :

Over the past year, this post has gathered quite a lot of traction and people seemed to really enjoy it, and I thought I could do more to help all of my writer friends out there ! This time, I decided to give you a bunch of situations a cane user may face to give you some directions to go with your story, and a few exemples to add-on to the idea !

These are overall very focused on young cane users because that's what I am, but I feel like they can mostly be used for characters of all ages.

The character just got their cane. How do they react to it ? The way someone first reacts to getting a cane can say a lot about them. Exemples :

- They don't see it as a big deal, mostly like yet another test to see if something may work. It's kinda like swallowing a pill when you're sick and thinking "here goes nothing". After that, you can also develop on them being very pleasantly surprised that it worked or to stay with the nonchalant style, make them think "oh. It actually worked. Guess I'll be using that from now on"

- They get uncomfortable. They don't want to be seen as weak and look at them using a cane as a kind of failure to be normal. They may even refuse to use it despite clearly needing it out of pride.

- They get extremely excited and immediately try to make it THEIR cane. If it's a metal cane, they play around with the sliding part and move it around a bunch to see how it works. They may try to play with it like a sword to get used to having it in hand (and may even accidentally break stuff with it). If they like colorful outfits, they may doodle on it or add a bunch of stickers/charms to it.

- They take it in front of a mirror and try to pose with it to fully comprehend that this is them now. They can struggle with their vision of themselves because seeing this weird stick always with them now is really weird. But on the other hand, you can also make them try a bunch of poses and have them think "wait ... This is actually really cool. I love how I look now"

See how they react to other people's looks. If a character has a cane, especially when they're young, they're bound to get weird looks. There's always someone looking at you obviously thinking "Why the hell are they using a cane, they probably don't need it" or "Oh no, poor them, they don't deserve to be in so much pain..." What's their reaction to it ? Exemples :

- They get angry. They confront the people staring at them with a "what are you lookin' at, fucker ?!" or just glare at them. They do NOT want to be pitied.

- They get playful and try to act as if these people are only interested in them by their physique. "Oh, I know I'm good looking, but you can stop staring at me darling~" if your character is kind of a classy cane user, it gets really fun to play around it and after a while, their confidence may get a real characteristic of theirs.

- They feel miserable. They don't want to be pitied just because they exist. They're walking outside for five minutes to get groceries and people are pitying them, and that hurts.

- They really don't care. They've seen it all, and don't let the stares affect them anymore. If they did, it would probably drive them mad.

One thing that happens ALL THE TIME with canes is that they fall. And overall, it's really funny to watch. Watching a cane fall down five times in a row is an embarrassing situation and can make some fun interactions ! Exemples :

- The cane user is trying to have very serious talk with someone else. They walk towards them, sits down in a chair, glares at them, puts their cane down against the wall and ... It falls. They put it back. And it falls. They can stay as serious as they want, the other person in front of them is no longer afraid of them.

- The cane user is taking someone on a date at a fun restaurant. They try to sit down on their chair and put their cane away and it falls repeatedly and they start panicking to make it stay up. Their date is very amused by the situation and finds it cute and/or charming.

- The cane user puts their cane against the wall and it falls. Their friend immediately goes to pick it up, but they stop them from doing so by saying something along the lines of "Don't bother. It won't stay up." Or "Heh, it can't fall any lower now."

Oh no, someone is trying to steal your character's cane for some reason ! Maybe it's because they think it was left behind by someone else ? Maybe it has a high market value because it's made of gold ? Any way, they will have to do something about it. Exemples :

- they grab the cane back and just beats the crap out of the thief. You know, it's not rare to see stories where grandpas use their cane to hit people as a joke. But it works ! It's a heavy stick, and often made of metal. You're bound to get some good hits with that.

- They immediately panic and/or cry. Canes can be extremely precious to someone, often because of emotional value. It's something you wear every day, you can easily get attached to it. A lot of people even decorate it, so loosing something you crafted yourself hurts.

- They heavily play the victim to either make the thief regret their action, or people get on their side. It can stem from a genuine emotion, but also from acting if they want to just use the situation to their advantage. Either way, if someone has the audacity to steal from a poor "defenseless" disabled person, the crowd will most likely help them.

- They can just ... Not care much. I mean yeah it was stolen and it sucks but you know, most canes cost what. 12$ ? They're annoyed but they won't make too much of a fuss about it, and running to catch the thief may not be worth it if their legs aren't really healthy.

You know, if your cane user is a little young, some people are bound to think that they are "too young to be disabled". How do they react to that ? Exemples :

- They heavily mock the person who said that. What, just because you think someone is too young to be disabled, they're no longer disabled ? Ha, I wish it could work like that !

- They reply with a good old "If I break your legs, I guess you'll still be able to walk ? Cuz you look too young to be disabled too."

- They get doubts and question if they're really disabled enough to wield a cane. Usually, people only use it when they have big problems or when they're old ... Maybe that person's right ... (No they're not, of course)

- They get extremely serious and explain their situation is nothing to be discussed by people won't don't know them personally.

And that's it for today ! I hope you enjoyed this little guide <3 if this gets a bit of traction as well, I may write more in the future ! Good luck to all of the writers ~

Oh and one more thing ! Feel free to link your stories down below for everyone to look, will it be a Tumblr post, an AO3 link, a google doc ... I love to see your creations, and I think sharing ideas with people is a GREAT way to develop more varied representation.

And if you want to thank me in a way or another, you can always take a look at my art on Twitter (@FernShawArt) !

[luetta]

i just want to talk about the effect everything everywhere all at once had on me. it saved my life. before it i was just living day by day, not giving a single fuck that my life was being wasted and that i was miserable. my inevitable suicide was approaching closer every time i woke up and i didn't care. but then, i watched the scene where evelyn travels to another universe, another version of herself, a different life. and i realised how badly i wanted things to change. every single night i wished and begged and imagined a different life for myself. to be an entirely different person. and then, to see this, this deep ungraspable yearning, represented visually, just broke me. sobbing with open eyes, tears streaming. i wasn't even on e yet and i cried like a bitch. it was amazing. it took a few weeks or so to internalise that message but i definitely realised that, i had to actually take action. make some sort of change. to become the person that i want to be. the other specific scene that irrevocably changed me was right at the end, where joy is being pulled from the void of the bagel and the rock is falling down the cliff. this obviously being a metaphor for suicide. and the imagery of two planets colliding being analogous, as absolutely important, as NOT dying. oh my goodness. what a message. i really do think that, it made me not suicidal anymore. i wasn't actively self harming or planning anything, but i was just. passively suicidal. i had an age in mind where i would reach that, and be able to look around and think "well. i've proved to myself and everyone that i am a failure. i can finally travel to iceland and find a cliff to throw myself off." but after seeing this movie and realising that. to kill myself would have such cataclysmic effects on not only the people around me, but to the unrealised future me. really made me not want to do that at all. i would never have the chance to have a positive impact on so many people's lives. there would be so many beautiful, tranquil experiences i would never experience. so much love and joy and laughter that would be rendered null before it even happened. and that is a terrible, awful thing. to deprive the future of that. i don't want to waste my life away. to contentedly let it fall through my hands like sand. i want to live. i want to chase happiness. to find the source and scoop it in my hands. to drink that pristine glacier water. and i did. 6 months after watching this movie i accepted i was transgender. the thing i wished, begged, cried for, the person i wanted to be more than anything. i was grasping that unreachable dream in my hands and drinking it. it tasted better than i could've ever imagined. i really am happy now. i'm not suicidal anymore. i'm excited for new things, loving my friends, aging. i can't wait to grow older. in about 4 months i'm going to turn 23. 5 years after coming of age. that was the age where i would fantasise about ending my life. now, that thought is quite unfathomable. so yeah. i think everything everywhere all at once saved my life. it's a really great movie.

[prima-materia-ttrpg]

Shooting for gold and falling flat on your face or How I failed miserably at writing ranged combat.

Not every mechanic is a winner, and designing a ttrpg is hard. First drafts, playtesting, modification, second draft, playtesting, modification. So far all of the systems I've written, while they absolutely needed extensive work, had solid cores. Sometimes, though, like when I wrote Ranged Combat last week, the base it's built upon is faulty and the whole thing needs to be gutted and scrapped for anything salvageable.

After playtesting and modifying melee combat, its core seemed solid and I decided to move on to ranged combat. One of the core principles involves not missing, or missing being rare. This is why when someone comes at you with a melee weapon, you can dodge or block to mitigate some or all of the damage. Armor, while not yet written, will also play an important roll in damage mitigation.

Ranged combat as I wrote it does allow missing, but missing is rare (or so I thought) particularly at close ranges. It didn't make sense to me to be able to dodge projectiles or block them with a weapon, and I haven't written a cover system or put in shields which would be able to block projectiles, so the only real thing that mitigates getting hit by a ranged weapon is armor. This was a mistake.

Before we get into all of that though, let me get into the core of how I wrote the mechanic and how that was bad. I decided that because ranged damage was hard to mitigate, it should have a chance to miss, which means an attack roll to see if you hit. For some reason, I decided that the player should roll a d100 so the Hit Chance (the number you try to roll at or under when rolling the d100) would align with a percentage. In theory, this works, especially since I tied it to the Dexterity attribute on the character sheet. In practice, the very first playtest I ran with these mechanics saw characters with long guns and an 80% chance to hit miss most of the time, and a single Xente character (large amoeba thing - it will get its own species highlight later) nailed two player characters one after the other on one turn with a roughly 18% chance to hit with its revolver due to the distance. My players have dubbed this particular Xente Big Boss after the metal gear character, and it will be making a re-appearance.

The clear issue here, of course, is that rolling a d100 gives you as much a chance to roll a 1 as it does a 100, and even if you play with percentages like I did, weird stuff is going to happen at some point. Perhaps even often within the span of a session. There were other issues with this ranged system as well, one of my players said it felt like it came from a completely different game compared to how melee combat feels. Another player astutely pointed out that a class of weapons that can one-tap most characters with little effort and no real choice for the player to be able to get out of the way or otherwise mechanically try to save themselves, feels bad.

I got some good feedback, and I'm still trying to figure out how to move forward with the ranged mechanics. I have some ideas that will bring it more in-line with melee mechanics but I have to see how it hashes out, and then playtest that. All-in-all, this is a good experience. Not every mechanic is a winner, but failure is incredibly important.

If you read all this, thanks! I appreciate it very much. I'm trying to figure out what to do for the next blog post, it's a toss-up between another species highlight (humans - I promise it will be interesting) or how alchemy (magic) works in detail. This would be the history of alchemy as a field of study, animals that have evolved to use it, and what players will be able to do with it.

[eretzyisrael]

To the current crop of campus Jew haters, the Houthis are good guys because they’re slowing global trade in the name of attacking Israel. The civil war the Houthis participated in has destroyed Yemen. The Houthi’s slogan is, “God is great, death to the U.S., death to Israel, curse the Jews, and victory for Islam.” The average university student chanting “Yemen, Yemen make us proud. Turn another ship around,” is as ignorant of the Houthis as they are of which river and which sea they want free.

South Africa, a country steeped in corruption, in which the rule of law is disintegrating, has become another favorite of Israel/Jew haters due to the ICJ case they brought against Israel. Iran, a country in which human rights are non-existent, where women are arrested if they’re not properly veiled, receives full support from these ersatz human rights advocates.

You do see the pattern here, don’t you? Jews and Israel – bad. Fascist dictatorial regimes – good.

You may or may not care about the current rise in antisemitism. You should. What begins with the Jews never ends with the Jews. A society in which we Jews lose our freedom is one where everyone’s freedoms are curtailed. As antisemitism grows, your world will become more unpleasant. The fascist supporters marching in the streets, accessorized with the requisite terrorist-chic keffiyeh, in support of some of the world’s worst human rights abusers, hate you too. If they can make things miserable enough for Jews and return us to our pre-1948 roles as marginalized scapegoats, they can work on cowing the rest of society into submission. That’s why they are interrupting and disrupting everything Americans enjoy.

Some recent attacks on the American way of life; you are no longer allowed to celebrate Easter. You may not enjoy Christmas either. You may not barbeque or have Fourth of July fireworks. You must burn the American flag instead. Don’t count on a peaceful hospital stay. If you like your doctor, you can keep your doctor; unless it’s a Jewish doctor. Same if you have a Jewish therapist. Your university convocation? It will be defaced. If you’re even allowed to get an education. If you graduate, you can forget a graduation ceremony. Museums are forbidden. Are you a reader? You may only read approved authors. And don’t think being LGBTQIA  will save you. Intersectionality only goes so far. You have no say. Free speech is a fading memory. And by the way, good luck traveling.

You are in their crosshairs. By your failure to be out in the streets screaming for Jewish blood, you are complicit in genocide. You are guilty, and you must be punished. While they can’t put you in a gulag (yet), they can restrict your life’s pleasures until you bow to their tyrannical, fascist demands. They’re organized, and they mean it. In their own words, advertising their April 15th 2024 Coordinated Economic Blockade to Free Palestine: “The global economy is complicit in genocide. Join participating cities in blocking the arteries of capitalism and jamming the wheels of production.”

Notice that they’re not trying to hide their goal. I don’t know how successful they were in “blocking the arteries of capitalism,” but they were noticed, and they will be back next year, still blaming Israel. So, get ready. The strategy is simple; if they push long and hard enough, and blame Israel enough, regular, normal, non-fascist supporting people, will slowly, a bit at a time, give in to their demands, and agree to live under their collective boot, because most of us just want to be left alone to live our lives in peace.

Forget it. First, Israel and the Jews. Then you.