#and another saying ‘people missing the expressed purpose or theme of a work due to a lack of care or effort at understanding’

[louisaguy]

it’s so frustrating when you see a post that you totally agree with and then you get to the end and OP is like “so that’s why im smart and everyone else is stupid” and it’s like well. i was with you up until now but now i don’t want to engage with this.

[cloud9in]

The Half of It

A Mc x Poppy fic inspired by the film 

Summary: Bea, the town’s outcast is recruited by the school jock to win Poppy’s heart. But what happens when she starts falling for her as well?

Author’s Note: So this will be a multiple part series that includes scenes heavily inspired from the movie “The Half of It”. I certainly recommend watching it. My version will have different twists and a different ending, and definitely more angst. It will include mature themes as the story progresses.

Warnings for this chapter: Swearing. This is a good thing for now.

Chapter 1- 

“Love is simply the name for desire and pursuit of the whole.”

                                                   - Plato, The Symposium

It is said that when one half finds its other, there’s an unspoken understanding. A unity. And each would know no greater joy....than this. 

 ...Except this is highschool. And in my opinion, there is no other half. Maybe the other half is a paper on Greek God philosophy due at midnight. But make that four papers, including mine. 

 My name is Bea Hughes and let’s just say...this is not a very happy story. Well maybe some parts are, but you’ll have to read to find out. I come from a small town called Farmsville, and when I mean small, I mean really small. Except the highschool seems fucking huge, with never ending hallways and when you do somehow find the end, there’s usually two inbreds eating each others mouths off. Lucky for me I am the epitome of antisocial, reserved, an introvert, or whatever the inferior beings, aka every other senior, calls me when they think I can’t hear. But I hear everything, including that one time Bradley Denbrough, upcoming hotshot actor, or so he claims, found out about a crush a poor unsuspecting freshman had on him. Everybody knew what Bradley and his goons did to that boy, even the adults, but no charges were pressed. This town is as conservative as it gets, but no one knows of my secret. I carry this school on my back when it comes to having everyone graduate, but that’s all I am to them, a pawn. And that’s all I wanted to be, nothing more and nothing less. I preferred to be in the shadows. 

 ***

 ...Except the mandatory Senior Talent Show forced Bea out of her hibernation hole. The thought haunted her as she sat in the dance studio, the last fucking place she wanted to be. Dance was so not a Bea kinda thing, but the blonde knew exactly why she granted herself the misery of picking the class. Poppy Min Sinclair, the golden girl of Farmsville High, the preacher’s daughter on a more serious note. She is...the most fascinating girl Bea ever laid her eyes on even if her boyfriend was a complete asshole who sermonized his duties as her future husband. Like seriously? Poppy has got to have some screws loose to date such a fake loser who plagiarizes all of his speeches at sunday church, and once literally begged Bea to write an apology letter to his father for him after completely upending their summer cabin. Except the blonde wrote the opposite of an apology, it went something like this…

 Dear beloved donkey, I mean dad,

 I am terribly sorry for inviting 20 hookers to the summer cabin. I have these strange impulses and you should at least be grateful I didn’t invite the big boss as well. His wife came though, in many, many ways. You should get the carpet changed. 

 Sincerely, your STD free son

 It was safe to say that Mr. Denbrough had a near heart attack after reading it, and Bea did kinda feel bad, kinda. He never mentioned the letter to Bradley though, instead silently calling up the owner of Teopoli Catholic Summer Camp and essentially deporting the boy to Canada for the summer. No son of his would end up in hell was what the old man preached everyday from then on. It was the quietest summer Bea had ever experienced. 

 Being the towns outcast, Bea could have her fun when she so chooses to, but that didn’t pay the bills. In fact, the multiple essays that people paid her to write was her way of surviving and taking care of her mother. They weren’t very rich but Bea worked with what she had, helping her mother manage the farm, which included getting on her knees and wrestling the pigs. And that’s how she was gifted the name “pig girl”, stupid Bradley and his fake friends just had to wander too far and catch Bea in the act. She swore a remixed video of her hog calling surfaced the web at one point and that gave the blonde her five minutes of fame. Boy was it an awful time in her life. 

 Bea worked her mother’s previous job as station master or signalman for the trains that passed through, even if it barely paid her shit. The secluded feeling of sitting in that booth and having a moment with her thoughts was enough to give her purpose. Bea was fond of poetry and it usually helped her come up with song lyrics.

 Song lyrics…

 That she would have to sing at the talent show. A huge sigh escaped her lips as she slumped further into the ground, maybe hoping she could bury herself six feet under. It wasn’t that Bea hated singing, no she absolutely loved it. Playing her guitar at night and belting out lyrics that only resulted in her mother banging on the ceiling below in efforts to shut the blonde up. But the mere fact that she’d have to sing in front of the ruthless seniors rubbed her the wrong way. Something would go wrong, it always did. Bea was shaken out of her thoughts when Poppy crossed the center of the room, moving her hips slowly to the sound of Rihanna’s voice. The class chose a slow r&b song to choreograph today and of course all eyes were on Poppy.

 If i’m your girl say my name boy

let me know i'm in control

 Her silky blonde locks swayed as she danced to the beat, hands thrusting sensually along her sides. Bea stared in awe, almost like Poppy was the only one in the room and a spotlight illuminated every movement, every curve. Except she definitely wasn’t the only one picturing Poppy in that way. Carter, the school quarterback leaned against the railing, arms crossed and eyes trailing the rise and fall of her chest. 

 Got me wondering, I’m wondering if i'm on your mind

 Bea sat up straighter but nearly lost her bodily functions when Poppy locked eyes with her before spinning away. It was simple eye contact Bea, don’t let it get to your head. You already have multiple lyrics inspired by Poppy offering the bare minimum in human interaction. She doesn’t actually like you. Poppy is popular and has the perfect life...and boyfriend, even if Bea heavily disagrees. Poppy was a bitch of course, but not a bitch bitch. Unlike the other wannabe mean girls, the blonde didn’t give Bea hell, well that was because the girl paid her zero attention. She seemed distant, off in her own world, or well in her parents world learning the strategies of business. Poppy was expected to follow in her parents footsteps and keep up with her reputation of being the richest in town, and of course a faithful future wife. So fun. But the blonde had other prosperous dreams of travelling and following her passion of music and dance. Highschool was her only outlet and she took advantage of it any chance she’d get. Bea knew this because she would ride her bike every friday night to the school and watch Poppy dance from outside the glass window. Maybe Bea realized it was kinda creepy, but she’s dumb enough to not realize her obvious growing attraction. I mean who pedals miles just to watch someone trip on their feet? 

 ***

 The sound of the bell caught everyone's attention and the teacher slowly lowered the music. Bea watched as Bradley approached Poppy and smothered her with kisses and praises. She rolled her eyes painfully, this kind of PDA definitely wasn’t it, she could have gone her whole life without seeing that. She walked silently through the crowd of kids in the hall, everyone was laughing and talking to their friends. All Bea could allow her mind to focus on was the very intimidating billboard of names a few feet across from her. 

 Winter Talent Show Sign-Ups (Mandatory For Seniors)

 Bea glared at it quietly before signing her name on the sheet, sealing her inevitable fate. Through the hustle of students, Carter watched the blonde with a yearning look from afar. This should be great…

 The next few classes were a blur and Bea eventually found herself getting up to hand Ms. Kingsley her paper. The older woman looked at her with a knowing glance as she took a generous sip of her coffee, which was 75% tequila.

 “6 different interpretations on Plato? Colour me impressed Miss Hughes.” 

 Bea shrugs nonchalant, “yeah well would you rather read their actual essays?”

 “Oh hell no.” Kingsley feigns shock as she looks at the stack of papers with a comical expression. She takes another sip, watching her younger, prodigy of a student carefully. “You know there are places outside of this godforsaken town where you can put your talents to use... Real use. I teach at Belvoire University occasionally.” Ina winks and slides Bea an application, studying her initial reaction. “It’s...in New York.”

“Damn right! The Big Apple.”

 “Kingsley you know I have to stay here. It’ll be easier for me to manage the farm and be close to home”, Bea says confidently even though her body language displays otherwise. She predicted the big sigh filling her ears before it actually happened and it still managed to faze her. “Who ever said you had to do anything? What about what you want to do?” Bea doesn’t make eye contact with Ina, that woman could convince you to do just about anything with a certain look. “No we are not doing this. You can take your reverse psychology and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine. I’m outta here.” The blonde stomps out of the classroom, the sound of Ina’s chuckles still ringing in her ears.

 “Hey! Everyone in this town fears God, but you know what God fears? My ability to hide a bottle of Don Julio in my left boot.” Ina pulls out the newly bought bottle and cradles it. “Come to mama.”

 ***

 Bea rode her bike alongside the dirt road, Kingsley’s words on replay the entire ride. Maybe she did deserve to experience something more than what this town had to offer. But would her mother manage without her? Sacrifices, sacrifices. Bea was used to making those for her mother after her father’s death. What would her dad think of all of this?

 “Hey!”

 He’d surely smack Bea upside the head for the little antics she pulled occasionally. And then he’d buy her vanilla coconut ice cream and ask for every single detail of what happened as they sat and laughed together. That’s the kind of relationship Bea would have had with her father, she liked to assume so. She also liked to assume that she’d get home safely everyday without a scratch, but then there’s Carter.

 “Hey wait up!” 

 The jock seemed to be running ridiculously fast and crashed right into the rear end of Bea’s bicycle, sending her face first into a mount of dirt. The initial impact was enough to boost the blonde straight back up like nothing happened and into a fighting stance, fists out and eyes wild. Very scary Bea. When she realized it was him...well it only pissed her off even more. “What the fuck Carter! You asshole!”

 “I’m sorry Bea! Here let me help-”

 “No! Move away! You- my bike- I…” Bea groans frustratingly, stepping away from the wreck as she tries to catch her breath. Carter watches her sheepishly, rubbing an envelope between his fingers awkwardly. After a few minutes of painfully uneasy silence he speaks up, “Okay...I didn’t want to ask you this way but I was wonder-”

“Oh, so you practically break my ass and now you want me to do you a favour? Real nice way of communication you have there Mr. Quarterback. What is with you and those freakishly large muscles anyways? Maybe it’s my fault I didn’t hear your avalanche built ass coming from behind.”

 “Hey! They are not freakishly large!”

 “I hate to break it to you Jackson but mine are significantly more appealing to look at.” Bea smirks widely, flexing her arm as best as she could. It’s a work in progress… just bare with her.

 It didn’t take much effort for Carter to break out into a smile and look at her fondly. Maybe there was more to this girl than just being a human dictionary. Well that’s what people called her, and he maybe believed it at first.

 Bea noticed the lack of response and shifted awkwardly, clearing her throat. “Listen, its $10 for three pages, $20 for three to ten, I'm not in the over-ten-page biz.”

 “No..no I’m not here to cheat!” Carter blurts out. “But I’ll let you know if I do plan on- anyways. I uh..” He hesitates before handing her the envelope. “What’s this?

 “Well you see it’s a letter..”

 “Yeah but who writes letters these days?”

 “I thought it seemed romantic..”

 “And I thought women writing Jeffrey Dahmer letters in jail seemed romantic”, Bea says sarcastically, her smile dropping instantly after catching a glimpse of Poppy’s name at the top of the paper. It was like the blood stopped flowing through her body for a few seconds as her mouth went dry. This had to be the work of the so-called God everyone praised in this town, or it was one cruel coincidence. Bea wasn’t sure why seeing her name made her heart beat ten times harder, but it also wasn’t a necessarily uncomfortable feeling…

 “I- I can’t help you.”

 “But if you just add a few more words-”

 “I’m not writing a letter to Poppy Min Sincla- to..to some girl for you. Letters are supposed to be authentic, from the heart, your own words, your...feelings.” Bea hurriedly turns to grab her bike, suddenly losing all interest in being social. 

 Carter was afraid this would happen. But he was stubborn. “But I can pay more for authentic!” 

 Too bad Bea was stubborn as well. “Just get a thesaurus...Good luck, Romeo.”

***

 Bea sat in her room, strumming away softly at the strings of her guitar. Some of the keys were off but the old thing still worked, and that was good enough for her. She could hear the tv blasting downstairs, her mother most likely watching the news. There’s something about old people and news, were they secretly ogling the news anchors? Just like Bea ogled Poppy any chance she could. The blonde frowned to herself, her eyebrows crunching together in question. What so hard about writing a letter to Poppy? It’s not like it's coming from her. Well it technically is, but Carter is taking the credit and Bea never had a problem with people taking credit for her words. So why did this very thought prove to be such an inconvenience? Lucky for Bea, her mind drifted elsewhere when she heard a painful snap. Even if it wasn’t physically connected to her body, she felt a horrible ache. Slowly peering down at the guitar in her hand, Bea found that the neck of the guitar had miraculously split almost clean off, a splinter of wood just holding it intact. She wanted to scream but nothing really came out, except air of course. Much to her disapproval, this was definitely a result of her strength. Stupid muscles couldn’t contain themselves at the thought of Carter being with Poppy. Now how could that be? 

 But now she had no guitar. And no guitar means no strings to strum, and no lyrics to sing, and no talent to show at the talent show. Now she was in trouble. Probably because she knew that the only way to get the money to replace the guitar would be through sealing the deal with Carter. Oh fuck it!

 ***

 “One letter. And enough money to buy a new guitar.”

 “Deal!”

 Bea turns away with a sigh, completely ignoring Carter’s high five. Now all she had to do was write this letter, and pray that Poppy wouldn’t completely consume every fiber of her being in the process.

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

End note: So how we feelin’? Carter and Bea Brotp??

Tags: @samanthadalton @somewillwin @clowneryme @baexpoppy @zigxryanz @uselesslesbianfr @aleiramacaii @thedaft1 @alexlabhont @iamsimpforpoppy

[ac3id]

🌸revenge

Pairings: Yandere! Prince! Izuku Midoriya x Princess Reader x Commoner! Katsuki Bakugou.

warnings: characters are obv aged up,yandere themes, cheating, noncon, humiliation, mind break, violence,major character death, a gun, ok this is v fucked up haha, swearing, v v sadist Izuku, smut (obvio), bondage.

summary: Born in a royal household you lead a sheltered life. From expensive jewelry, exotic fruits, and fancy dresses you lived in luxury. But it came with a price, the price was your freedom. From an early age, your life's purpose was decided on by your parents, teach you to be a fine woman and then marry you to another prince. You always felt trapped by the bars of gold, you never had lived your life but you hoped.Hoped that one day something would happen which would pull you out if the cage you were trapped in but that hope quickly vanished when your parents announced that you would be marrying the youngest prince of the Viridis kingdom Izuku Midoriya. It was to strengthen the trade with his kingdom– the most powerful on land. You did not have much of a choice as you were sent away to meet the young prince. He was kind and caring with a handsome face and a well-built body but, you couldn't fall for him. You were enchanted by his knight– Commander Katsuki Bakugou. Katsuki and Izuku were childhood friends but did they not hate each other, well it seemed like at least Katsuki hated the prince. When you first met Katsuki, you were taken back by his boldness. Talking to the royalty in a which would get anyone else’s head cut off. Maybe, that was what made you fall for him. Behind Izuku’s back, you slept with his childhood friend until he found out. Izuku decided to take revenge and it sure was nasty.

word count:4.8k

masterlist

Warm sun rays fell on your closed eyelids. Blinking them open, you caught Maria, your handmaid, pushing open the blinds letting the soft golden rays flow into the room.

“Good morning, Miss. Y/N,” she greeted you. You sat up on your bed and stretched your arms above your head, “It is a beautiful morning, is it not?” Maria hummed in approval, “My Lady, His Highness wishes to have breakfast with you this beautiful morning,” she says.

“What?” You ask, a bit surprised that the young prince wanted to see you. Even though both of you shared the same sleeping chambers you haven't seen him in months as he was busy with his princely duties. “I heard from the servants that the Kingdom will see better days, expect the prince to finally court you.” She says brushing your hair behind you, “Maybe it is the right time to break it off with Commander Bakugou,” you turn back to give her a warning glare and she looks away, you look back at the mirror as guilt consumes you.

It had been a year since you had arrived at Viridis, the people of the nation had greeted you warmly, happily accepting you as their princess. You never felt as if you were a burden or unwelcomed. The servants, your soon to be in-law, and everyone else treated you with respect and love yet you couldn't help but feel homesick and depressed. Even though you were soon to be the princess of the strongest nation on the land, something any other girl your age would want- this was not your choice. You would rather be in your own Kingdom where you felt even the tiniest bit of freedom but, life was not that fair.

Days went by quickly and you did not feel a thing. Your soul was numb, sometimes Izuku would come to you and you both would spend time together but, it did not last long as he would leave right away. In the midst of your despair, you found someone. He was a fierce ash-blonde-- Bakugou Katsuki grew up with Izuku. He was the Commander of the Order of Chivalry and one of Izuku’s best friends. You had met him in the royal garden one day admiring the flowers catching him at such a soft moment; you teased him about it. Soon enough you and Katsuki grew close, closer than you and Izuku ever could. Katsuki was passionate, rough, and even though it did not seem like it- he could show affection. One night when Izuku had left for another nation due to his work, Katsuki confessed his feelings for you. You were glad he felt the same way but you both also knew it was wrong. But neither of you cared, you both needed each other. Only Katsuki could have filled the emptiness in you.

Maria had left and you were alone dwelling on your regretful life choices, you knew it would become very hard seeing Katsuki after marriage but, you didn’t want to give him up. You twist your ring on your ring finger, suddenly becoming heavier. You let out a sigh, you had to talk to Katsuki about this- about your future. There was no way either of you could avoid what was destined.

You hear a knock at your door and soon it opens, you see Katsuki enter the room he was dressed casually in a shirt and pants but he still was a sight to see. “Hey princess,” He says with a smirk and you feel your heart beat faster. His smirk always had you hooked.

"Katsuki," you say, your voice taking on a feeble tone. You hug him firmly, snuggling in as close to him as possible. Katsuki sighs into your embrace, his eyes flickering between your face and your lips, you inhale deeply, his fragrance flooding your senses. It's dangerous, yet warm and cozy—you could spend centuries in his secure embrace.

Lifting your chin with his hand and pressing your lips together. He sighs when your lips meet. You bring your hand up to rest on his cheek, molding your body with his. Looking into his eyes as you bite and pull on his lips "I love you so much," He groans into your mouth, soft moans and groans exchanged between the two lovers, your smile widens, and his thumbs begin to rub circles into your waist. His hands running up your thighs and over your ass, squeezing it and earning a gasp from you.

Katsuki closed the door. He lunges forward, planting wet, sloppy kisses along your cheek, jawline, and your neck. You try to push him off but he's much stronger than you. He wrangles you, pinning your arms down and flipping you so that her back meets the softness of the bed you share with Izuku.

Resting his hands on the sides of your face, he groans into your throat, deep vibrations sending chills up your spine. You pull back, your lips purse as you fumble with the wedding band on your ring finger, twirling it around to calm your nerves. "Katsuki! Someone might hear us" you cry, but kisses are wracking your body and you are squirming underneath him, you are not surprised when he doesn't listen.

You let out a soft moan as his calloused firm hands find your chest, dragging his palm slowly across your breasts. Brushing your hard nipples with his thumb, squeezing and massaging them through your gown. He slowly unbuttons his shirt and pulls it from his strong arms with one swift move. He hisses when you scrape your nails down his defined pectorals and abdominal muscles, “Katsuki, no. Not right now. Deku asked me to eat with him, we can do this later.” You say pushing him off you as his grip on you loosened. “Did you have to use that nerd’s name? You completely put me off!” he groans as you passed him to the door, “Sorry Suki’, I’ll come to you later. I promise.”

"My sweet, you're here!" You hear Izuku call you, he was dressed fashionably in royal attire, a green coat resting on his shoulders as he sat down. "Deku," you greet him by his nickname, the first time you had ever met him he had asked you to call him by that name, and every time you called him using 'Deku' his cheeks would darken and a sweet smile would decorate his freckled face. But this time he did not smile, not a hint of pleasantness was visible on his face. Instead, a glint of something you could not understand spread in his eyes. A mix of anger and irritation.

"When did you come back?" You ask as you take a seat beside him, "I arrived last night, I didn't want to disturb you so I slept in the guest chambers," he answered, flashing you a smile-not quite reaching his eyes. "Oh, how considerate of you, Deku." You were glad he didn't come to your room last night. Katsuki had come over. "Well, what are your plans for today, my dear?" as he divided into his food.

"The usual, I'm planning on visiting the library and picking up my books and then returning to my chambers and reading them."

"Well if it is not a bother, why don't you spend the day with me?" Izuku asked you with his face flushed, he looked adorable and you obviously could not have denied so, you spent the day with Deku. The little date was pleasant, you both enjoyed each other's company and as the end of the day kept coming nearer you kept thinking about going back to Katsuki.

"Your Highness," One of Izuku's knights approached him as both of you sat in the royal garden enjoying the sunset, he whispered something into Izuku's ear and he hummed in response. "Petal," He called out to you lovingly and you looked over, "Why haven't you touched your tea? Do you not like it?" he asks, concerned, "Oh, no it's nothing like that! I was just taking in the view, I guess I forgot about it." you say as you take a sip. "It is delicious!"

"I'm glad you liked it."

After a few minutes you start feeling light-headed, you rub your forehead which catches Izuku's attention. "My, Y/N, are you feeling alright? You look unwell." "I don't know, Deku, I feel lightheaded." you had expected Deku to guide you to a doctor after you laid out your concern but instead you hear a sinister giggle leave his mouth. His face displayed a chilling smirk as his expression from a fun-loving gentleman changed to something unrecognizable.

"Don't worry my sweet little petal, the drug is working. You will be fine. Just need to learn your lesson."Izuku plays with a loose strand of your hair as you feel your conscious slip away.

Oh, what had you got yourself into?

Your arms were outstretched over your head and slightly spread with your delicate wrists locked into place by restraints, the metal edges have been padded with fabric to prevent any obvious ligature marks or damage. The heat of your body was replaced by the cool open air of the cell hitting your body, your sweat intensifying the chill, and sending goosebumps prickling over the expense of your skin.

A black blindfold was obscuring your vision. The thick fabric was comfortable against your face and completely blacked out the world around you. Tears leaked from the corner of your eyes, you bit down on something bitter and balled up—a leather gag. It was uncomfortable, and you could feel the drool dripping a trail down towards your neck, it was disgusting.

Twisting your hands within the metal restraints, you could feel the ache developing in your arms as you were forced to remain in position. heightening your other senses to compensate for the missing sight. You tried to distract yourself from squirming by focusing instead on the sounds of something heavy shuffling at the opposite end of the cell. You let out a muffled whimper.

You heard echoing footfalls coming closer to you, guilt rising in your chest.

You knew it was Izuku.

You were trembling from some combination of fear and frustration. Your breath was coming in slowly controlled inhales and your heartbeat erratically from the anticipation of not knowing Izuku's intentions.

You immediately let out muffled, incoherent pleas. Your desperate cries enmeshing in the now completely soaked leather ball he had gagged you with. He smirks at your appearance. Your hair was messy and your cheeks were tear-stained and pink, lips stretching out because of the gag.

Even without seeing him, you could picture his closed-mouthed almost crazed smile. Restrained into place, unable to speak, and missing one of your most vital senses, you were left completely at his mercy.

You felt his hand move upwards to your neck. Slowly gripping it tighter. You were reverberating around him and everything felt heightened by the lack of oxygen.

You would have been squirming if not for the last thread of your dignity anchoring you to the metal brace around your chest and wrists.

"Sweetheart, sweetheart." He began, his voice was chilling. It was as if he was spitting venom with every word he spoke. "Did you honestly think that I would not know about the little romance going on between you and Kacchan?" You felt cold leather run up your jaw and you shuddered. "I think you are aware of how incompetent you are. A country like Virdis would never choose the likes of you." His tone was condescending. Speaking down about your homeland, you felt a rush of anger flow through you and you screamed into the gag only to be silenced by Izuku's palm hitting your cheek. Pain flowed through the right side of your cheek as Izuku continued his sermon.

"Do you know how much I had to beg father for letting me choose you? I fell in love with you the first time I ever saw you," he confessed his voice cracking "you looked so lonely like you were lost, looking for something. Something that you did not what was," his sniffling intensified. You recalled the first time you met him. It was Hitoshi Shinsou from Purpura's coronation. It had been three years since.

"For years I spent all my time thinking about you about us. I wasted hours looking for reasons why your Kingdom should be connected to Virdis. All for you throw it all away!" He screamed the last part, his words echoing. He sighed, "Why did you do this? Why did you let Kacchan corrupt you? I must ask, do you not have any self-respect? Going after a commoner while you had the Prince fallen head over heels for you? I don't believe this." Izuku laughed wickedly.

"Dignity is just a foreign concept to you, isn't it?" his eyes began darkening as lust and hatred filled his veins "I'm afraid I have to teach my stupid petal a lesson" He sighed, the heavy leather was cold in his hand as he twirled it idly between his fingers.

You heard the click of his boots away and back again. A brief silence fell on the room and a loud smack reverberated off the stone walls. You bit into the gag as she felt a sting on the inside of your thigh.

You heard the impact before you felt it, leather smacking abruptly against the skin, and the pain followed, searing hot.

He jerked your head up by your hair, his cheek pressed against hers as he growled, "keep your eyes on her Kacchan", he snarled. Your heart hammered.

'Kachhan?'

The crop whistled through the air and snapped against your breast, flicking against your already painfully hard nipple, almost blacking you out at the intensity of it.

He let the riding crop rise above his head and fall on your stomach, bruising the skin.

The sensation of the cold and smooth leather on your skin made goosebumps rise and your legs began to quiver. He walked around you, the item of torture dancing up your thigh. He traced the riding crop back up your right leg, spreading your legs further open, looking behind him making sure that Katsuki had his eyes on your naked core. Katsuki was tied down, his wrists bonded in heavy metal shackles, his legs tied down to the ground. A heavy collar was fixed around his neck which was chained to the wall. His eyes were pressed firmly together, tears prickling from the corners falling to his cheeks. His face was muzzled, unable to speak all he could do was groan.

"Keep looking, Kacchan," Izuku taunted, "If you don't, much worse things will happen to her," he growled and Katsuki looked up to see your swollen face with red marks covering your upper half. More tears fell from his eyes, he could not do anything. He had never felt this helpless in his life before.

Izuku turned back to you after addressing Katsuki. " Do you know? You deserve so much worse," he snarled, the strikes hitting down on your naked breast, stomach, and thighs at an ever-increasing frequency.

"Don't feel so smart now, do you?" He brought the riding crop down a dozen times, each blow quicker than the last and just as sharp until your flesh was warm and aching.

Kicking your legs open and apart, placing his feet between your thighs, making it impossible for you to close them. He scrapes his teeth against your shoulder, as a tender hand kneads at the cheek of your ass. He spanks it once, the echo of both the slap traveling down the hall.

He plants a kiss on your cheek "My petal looks so much prettier like this," His tone was now honeyed, as he ran his hands along with the bruises he made on your chest, running up and down your thighs, smearing a trail of your blood as it went, admiring his artwork, while your muscles twitching and tensing everywhere he touched.

His fingers fluttered as they moved to grip your upper arms and he jerked you back against him. His lips brushed yours' and you shivered.

"I've always been so good and lenient towards my petal. Let's see how good you can be for me."

A shiver rolled over your skin when you felt him behind you, taking one of your nipples between his thumb and finger; pinching and pulling it hard. You arch your back at the pleasured pain surging through your body. Izuku's fingers hooked around the waistband of his pants and began to work them off, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance. spreading your cheeks with his free hand as He nudges past your folds with his head lines up to your cunt. The stretch of his tip pressing into you tingles with a sizzling burn,

Hot and heavy against the shell of your ear, biting your earlobe lightly. His hair damps with sweat tickles over your neck as he whispers.

"You feel so good. Finally. You made me wait for so long while you jumped on Kacchan's dick three days after meeting him."

His hand took a hold of your tied up arms the other gripping your hip, his nails leaving tiny bloody crescent moon indents on the skin as he slammed forward, your body shook, trying to adjust to the sudden incredible fullness of his girth stinging against your walls, the pain has your fingers curling against the restraints and biting into the gag making you clench down around him, and he let out a long, sinful groan. He's swearing, alternating between muttered profanities and guttural moans as his cock twitched and pulsed inside you.

"Look at you taking my cock so well," he marveled, eyes locked on his dick disappearing inside you, "such a greedy little pussy." Izuku pauses every couple of moments to let you feel every inch, every vein on his dick until he reaches the hilt. "That's it, petal...take every inch of it." The nickname mocking you. "Aren't I much bigger than Kacchan?" He teased, His voice was low and filled with malice as he spat the name. You let out a muffled moan which confirmed his accusation.

"I told you," he said hoarsely, "to keep your fucking eyes on her!" Izuku grinned, punctuating the words with a sharp, powerful thrust that had her convulsing around him. He moaned loudly, grip loosening on your hair as he focused his energy on thrusting. Low groans and curses were spoken in your ear as his warm breath fanned over your neck.

Katsuki's face was covered with tears, his nose runny and dick hardening in his pants- it hurt. "Are you getting a boner right now? Kacchan!?" Izuku growled, "Poor Y/N is getting abused by the likes of me- Does that turn you on? You are a sick guy."

Katsuki wanted to shout, kick, punch- do anything to get you away from Izuku but while he was tied up and helpless all he could do was watch the love of his life get abused by his childhood friend, not so much now, listen to their groans and moans which unintentionally excited him. He sat crying and while he chased for release.

Izuku's moans echoed throughout the cell as he pounded harder so his pelvis smacked against your ass with each thrust. His hand reached down to rub your clit while his other hand groped at your breasts. He sucked in a breath through his clenched teeth. "Fuck!" He groaned "Oh fuck yeah."

He was slamming into you hard, fast, and so deep. The lewd sounds of your wetness and muffled moans filled the room. Your body went limp and you struggled for oxygen all you could hear was a shrill noise, unable to focus on anything but the pleasure. You feel yourself clenching on his dick as you cum.

Tangling a hand in your hair and yanking your head back forcefully. you arch helplessly into him as he breathily moans out your name and cums, filling your womb and coating your inner thighs with his seed. A broken wordless cry leaves your mouth as you feel him, grinding his hips in one last impossibly deep thrust. He slowly grew soft inside you, pulling out.

His ever so tight grip on your hips and hands leave as he tucks his soft cock back into his pants and zips it up. Your chest heaves up and down as you come down from your high. "You're going to have my children, dear Y/N," Izuku says as he marvels at the sight of saliva leaking from your mouth and down your chin he licks your gagged lips, slurping and drinking the drool dribbling down your chin.

Muffled screaming comes from the back, Katsuki screams into his muzzle as Izuku giggles, wood bangs and creaks, leather and iron brush against each other. Silence, the sound of uneven footsteps, then something cold, smooth, and stiff traces your abdomen. Cold metal runs between the valley of your breasts.

He loosens the blindfold and tosses it on the floor. Your eyes squint adjusting to the new-found brightness, he grabs your chin and forces you to meet his eyes. You stare at him with your eyes wide, your gaze reaches his left hand, the cold metal stroking your body- a gun. It rests in his hands elegantly and you start thinking the awful things he could do with it.

He smirks and pushes your heads towards your side where you see Katsuki.

His face is stained with tears, his eyes bloodshot, wide-open looking at you muttering unspoken apologies from them. You return the sorry look and he eases, your eyes soften as silence fills the room. Katsuki and you stare longingly into each other's eyes exchanging apologies and empathy. The found moment is cut short as Izuku growls.

"What is wrong with you two!?!?" He screams as he walks towards Katsuki and removes his muzzle in one swift motion. "You fuckin' bastard! I will kill you!!" After enduring what felt like hours of emotional torture, finally speaks up he shouts and tries to bite Izuku's hand but Izuku backs away. He notices that Katsuki is still hard, a dent visible in his tight-fitting pants.

"Oh, Kacchan," He sneers. "It must be difficult trying to fight me off while you're still stuck."

Izuku comes closer this time with his gun raised over Katsuki's forehead. "Don't try anything funny, Kacchan. You wouldn't do what I would do to her if I kill you like this." He points his gun at your direction, your brows furrowed with worry. Katsuki stays still as he waits for Izuku's instruction. "Like I was saying, it must be difficult holding up a fight while you're still distracted but, since I am your childhood friend who cares deeply about our fond memories-"

"Yeah, the ones where I beat you up and you run to daddy?" Katsuki snickers and you internally groan this man did not know when to shut his mouth.

"I will pretend you did not say that. Now," Izuku reaches towards Katsuki and releases him from his chains, keeping the gun up in the air to remind who is in charge. Katsuki rubs his wrist and glares at his former green-haired friend. "for the sake of our friendship" The phrase dipped in poison, he goes behind you and grabs your thighs forcing your closed legs to open. "You have one last go before I exile you from Virdis." He speaks of you like you're an object. The dehumanization brings back tears in your eyes and Katsuki frowns. "I don't care about what you do to me. Exile me, even kill me, leave Y/N alone." Katsuki spits his furry evident in his tone and Izuku sighs, he lets go of your thighs and brings the gun next to our head.

"This is Y/N's punishment, and I can do whatever I wish to do with her. She belongs to me." he snarls, "If you don't fuck her now, I will blow her brains out."

You panic, his words settling in your head. You look at Katsuki and he looks away, clenching his jaw he looks back at you. He walks up to you, "Good, good" Izuku continues.

Katsuki mutters out a low sorry while he unzips his pants and his dick bounces free, the head red and angry. Katsuki grips your waist as Izuku lets go of your legs, he rubs his dick against your slit and groans. You moan behind your gag as you feel him entering you, Katsuki grabs your legs and entraps them behind his back. He pushes into you, your walls already slick and dripping with Izuku's cum welcome him warmly. Pulling him in as he pushes himself to the hilt.

He growls through his teeth thrusting in and out, biting on your shoulder. You moan out louder, louder than you did for Izuku. Even while your gag muffled your moans he could tell how much you were enjoying Katsuki.

Katsuki captures your hard nipple in his mouth and swirls around it with his warm tongue, his finger reaches down to your clit and rubs on it driving you closer to your edge. Katsuki's thrusts get sloppier and Izuku screams, "Don't you dare finish inside her!" unable to process what Izuku said over the mind-numbing pleasure, you feel yourself clench on Katsuki's dick as you cummed on his dick.

"Ah, fuck, baby," Katsuki whispered in your ear as he came inside you, behind you Izuku became furious.

"You fucking bastard!" He screamed as he pulled Katsuki off you by his collar and slammed him on the cold ground. "Die," He growled as he pressed his gun to Katsuki's forehead and you screamed on your gag.

Katsuki knew he was done for. He looked at you one last time fondly and said, "I love you, Y/N. I will wait for you, always."

"Shut the fuck up, she does not love you." Izuku spat as he hit Katsuki at the side of his head. "Die, bastard. You thought you could steal the love of my life and get away with it, you deserve this. Never thought your innocent little Deku would do something like this, now did you?" Izuku clocks his gun, he looks back at you. You are covered in drool and tears, your cheeks still flushed pink.

"My dear petal, this is why you don't thwart me. This is your fault, because of you, I have to kill my friend! Because of you, a great man will die tonight." Izuku taunts.

You glance back at Katsuki, knowing he is going to die while all you could do was watch. More tears fall from your eyes as Izuku presses the trigger and Katsuki falls dead.

This was truly the worst.

You couldn’t even wail out in distress the ball gag in your mouth made it hard to scream. Trying your best to break free from your restraints so you could touch your dying lover for the last time.

But you couldn’t. All you could do was struggle as sweat rolled from your forehead and cum dried on your thighs, leaking from your abused hole. Katsuki looked at you as he lost his consciousness. He smiled softly looking at you through his eyes, squinting so he could focus on your image.

“You were the best thing that ever happened to me, Y/N..” He said his final words and the glass box of logic and reason in your mind broke. Your eyes grew wide as tears rolled down your cheeks, your nose runny as you screamed into the gag. You had just watched the love of your life die the worst possible death possible, and you couldn’t blame anyone but yourself. Not even the monster who was responsible for your beloved’s death. Your vision started to blacken and your body limps  as exhaustion crept up over you.

All of your selfish choices.

This was the outcome

(bonus)

When you came to your senses your body was aching all over, both inside and out.

"Awe petal, don't look so scared," he cooed as if he just did not kill a man.

Izuku was holding you, playing with your hair as he cuddled you to his chest. He placed a light kiss on the crown of your head. Tears stung your eyes as you cuddled closer to him.

"I'll lock you up and throw away the fucking key if you ever even think about doing anything like that again, do you hear me?"

"Y-yes," you say as you exhale shakily.

Izuku tucks some hair behind your ear and grips your jaw, your cheeks squishing and lips puckering slightly. He kisses your lips and smiles.

"I love you, petal." you feel his lips on your aching skin. he licks a stripe up your neck soothing the wounds, "mine," burrowing his face into your neck "all mine."

You lean forward placing your lips on his, exchanging kisses You wanted to scream and cry out instead you let out a small moan. You wished you were gagged again.

"None of this would've ever happened if you weren't such a whore, poor Kacchan would've been alive"

You felt a constriction in your chest at the sound of his name.

planting kisses on your collarbone.

 "Tell me you love me," He growls into your throat and bites the flesh

You remained silent

"I shouldn't have to repeat myself."

"I love you so much Izuku," you forced the words out as you exhale shakily your tears flowing once again.

"Be good for me baby. We wouldn't want to see those tears again."

Right before you finally fall asleep, you feel his fingers intertwining with yours in a vice-like grip, his lips peppering kisses all across your face

[jokertrap-ran]

(未定事件簿) EVENT! 「眷然恋影」 [Tears of Themis] EVENT: Zuo Ran Birthday 2021- Days to Re-Live Forever (4.18: Volunteer Application)

*Tears of Themis Masterlist / Mobile Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Will also be filed under Zuo Ran’s tag #Tears of a Lawyer *The tracking tag for ALL Event Stories will go under: #Tears of an Event

4.18 / 4.20 / 4.22 / 4.24 / 4.26 Messages / Investigations / Call

Location: Cinema's Lounge Area

MC: …All in all, while this isn't considered a bad movie, it's also quite far from being a "Sci-fi Masterpiece".

Zuo Ran: Agreed.

Zuo Ran and I were both down at the Cinema’s Lounge, discussing the movie that we'd just finished watching.

The Stellis Film Festival had just started, and the movie that we'd sought to watch for how famous it was, was one of the most highly rated Sci-Fi movies.

But unfortunately, the content of the movie itself wasn't quite as interesting as we'd expected.

Zuo Ran: But "Time Travel" is considered one of the more classic Sci-fi themes, so it's not all that easy to come up with something new and exciting.

Hearing him say that, I suddenly remembered another movie with the exact same running theme.

MC: There are also many Time Travel themed Masterpieces out there. Take the film “About Time” for example; it’s an old film dating more than ten years ago.

MC: But it’s about slice of life, so you probably never watched it.

That’s right, although this movie was labelled a work of Science Fiction, it was also undeniably something that fell into the category of warm, healing, fluffiness.

It’s a movie about the story of the male protagonist, Tim, who wanted to use his Time-travelling ability to find himself a girlfriend; and eventually winning over the heroine, Mary’s, heart.

Additionally, it also depicts Tim’s family history. Generally speaking, it was an award-winning movie that had won over the emotions of many.

I recall that Zuo Ran preferred to watch Sci-fi Films, rarely watching anything emotional. Still, I wanted to try giving him a suggestion. 

Zuo Ran: I’ve seen it before. It was pretty good.

His reply was a little unexpected.

MC: Huh? But even though the male protagonist is capable of Time Travel, there are still far fewer Sci-fi elements to this movie than there are elements of daily life.

MC: I thought that you don’t often watch these kinds of films...

Zuo Ran: You’re right, but this one’s an exception.

Zuo Ran: Rather than calling it a Sci-fi movie, I think it’ll be more appropriate to call it a movie about “Superpowers”, since its main purpose is to power the plot.

Zuo Ran: Although it’s a slice of life, the director of this film has a good grasp of rhythm and mood, capable of making people feel a strong sense of empathy.

Zuo Ran: Of course, I also personally agree with the idea it is trying to convey.

Zuo Ran analysed the movie with utter seriousness, and I could see that he had an extremely deep understanding about it.

Capable of extracting that many praises from him, it seems like this movie holds an extraordinary place in his heart.

MC: Sounds like you really do like this “About Time” film.

Zuo Ran: Yes, I do.

Zuo Ran: I suppose it can be considered… Among the ones I like best.

After getting an affirmative from him, I couldn’t help but to jump for joy.

MC: (Now I know how to celebrate his birthday!)

Zuo Ran’s birthday was the 26th of April; a day that was coming up soon.

I’d only heard about this date back when I was making small talk with Sister Zhai Xing. She’d even told me to put more emphasis on it, since I was his partner.

Zuo Ran has been taking good care of me ever since I joined the Law Firm, but I’d have been way prepared to celebrate his birthday for him, even if Sister Zhai Xing didn’t mention it.

But I didn’t really know what I should do, till now; the conversation I just had with Zuo Ran finally gave me a hint.

MC: (Recreating the classic scenes of movies and celebrating his birthday there will definitely make it an unforgettable experience for the Mr. Robin, the well-known film critic! )

A plan gradually started to take shape within the confines of my mind.

Zuo Ran: What’s on your mind? Why are you daydreaming?

MC: N-Nothing! I was just thinking about...

MC: My favourite movie! I was just thinking how brilliant it was that you also happen to like it!

Birthday surprises are something that’s meant to be kept secret till the very last moment, so I can’t afford to give the game away now.

Zuo Ran: It makes you that happy?

His expression appeared no different from usual, seemingly having accepted what I’d just said.

MC: Yup, of course it does! Sharing the same favourite movie as you goes to show that we’re well suited to be partners!

Zuo Ran: We do coordinate well together.

MC: Let’s talk more about this film, Lawyer Zuo.

Zuo Ran: Sure.

He probably wouldn’t have any idea about just what I had planned to celebrate his birthday with.

MC: (I’m suddenly really looking forward to seeing how he’ll react to this surprise. I’m sure he’ll be way different from how he usually is!)

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Location: The Film Museum

A few days later, at the Film Museum.

Staff: My apologies, miss. But the Museum's Live-action Studio is temporarily unavailable for loan for the duration of the Film Festival.

MC: I’d originally wanted to rent the Film Museum’s Live-action Studio to recreate the classic scenes of the movie “About Time” for Zuo Ran, to celebrate his birthday.

But how unfortunate...

MC: But I’m really in need of it; isn’t there any other way?

Staff: If you’re truly in urgent need of the Studio. Then you can try becoming a volunteer for this Film Festival.

MC: Oh?

Staff: The Museum requires a large amount of volunteers to help out during the Film Festival, and volunteer points can be earned through completing volunteer work.

She took out a brochure, handing it to me.

Staff: Take a look at this. Volunteer points can be redeemed for the rights to use the Live-action Studio in addition to some special props provided by the Museum itself.

Staff: You must be shooting on the set itself if you’re trying to rent the Studio, so I’m sure these props will come in handy.

The staff member pointed out the “special props” listed on the brochure to me.

They came as large as classic retro cars, furniture such as tables and chairs, old-fashioned suitcases… They were all classic props from classic movies.

MC: Are all these props the original ones?

I’d thought that it’d take a good lot of points to redeem rights to the Studio, but I’d never expected it to actually be the easiest to attain.

Although, that being said, most of those special props were pretty “point pricy”.

Staff: A small portion of them are, but the rest are replicated on a 1:1 scale from the original.

MC: Oh! There’s even the window display mural from “About Time”!?

Staff: That’s right. Although this one’s a replication, it is no different from the original one.

MC: (Not only can you rent the venue, but you can also change up the place to be furnished with decorations of your own choice. This can’t get any better!)

Thinking up till this point, I agreed without a moment’s hesitation.

MC: Okay, I’ll sign up! What do you do as a volunteer, though?

Staff: Welcome to the Volunteer Team. Your job this time is to simply hand out questionnaires.

Staff: As the organizer of this Film Festival, we plan to create a review column after the event; hence, why we have to collect information on the audience’s option.

Staff: The content of this survey includes, but is not limited to, their evaluation of the movies released this Film Festival, and their views on well-known film-critics, etc.

Staff: What needs to be specifically explained to them is that, due to the curator's request, this survey will take the form of an offline interview and a physical questionnaire to fill.

Staff: He believes that it is only by interacting face-to-face with the audience, can we then understand their true wishes; and that doing so will also reflect the utmost sincerity of the Museum itself.

She handed me yet another list.

Staff: The information of the willing participants of the survey are recorded here. So please carry out the surveys according to the name list here.

Staff: Your final amount of points obtained will be calculated based on the number of questionnaires you've managed to get filled, and their degree of completion.

I confidently took the list from her.

MC: Understood! You can leave it to me!

Staff: Volunteer Points can be redeemed at any time. I wish you the best of luck, and hope that you can exchange it for the rights to the Live-action Studio as soon as possible.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Next Part: (4.20: Questionnaire Filling)

[nemir]

𝕤 𝕡 𝕝 𝕖 𝕟 𝕕 𝕚 𝕕

✞——————❆——————✞

» pairing; haurchefant greystone x rhen {my wol}

» word count: 6k!!! EXACTLY.

» content; mutual pining, mixed messages, adult themes,

» an; written over the course of a few days while listening to Kiss from a Rose by Seal on repeat fjgdkljd (also huge shoutout to the Haurchefant I've been hanging out with, you're an inspiration to us all)

"Curse the twelve for this weather! It's too damn cold." A viera woman pushed her way through the front doors of a stone building at Camp Dragonhead, giving little care to the volume - and tone - of her voice. She shivered once inside, pulling the large hood from her cloak back off her head. Jet black ears sprang up immediately, to which her hands lifted to smooth out her choppy black hair. "Right. Where is he?"

The sell-swords and infantrymen who were keeping warm by the fire inside blinked, heads tilting. "Er … Who, ma'am?"

The woman balked. "What do you me--" She stopped herself short and let out a short breath. "Pray, forgive me. My name is Rhen Hrafna, I'm looking for Lord Haurchefant Greystone. Is he in?" She crossed her arms beneath her cloak, the tiniest hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips; one that nobody would be able to see unless they were up close.

"M-my lady! Our deepest apologies!" The men and women who stood suddenly straightened their backs and saluted, and the ones who remained seated bowed their heads in both shame and reverence. "He's stepped out for but a moment! I-is there anything we can do for you in the meanti-"

"Leave." A single word. It was curt and blunt, but it wasn't filled with malice or meant to cause harm. It was a simple request, as made evident by the viera's smile. The infantrymen took it as an order, and all let out a breath of relief. It meant they were able to go to the mess hall to eat and kick their feet up for a time. A short time, as peace was not something the Highlands knew much of, but it was welcomed nonetheless. "And please," she spoke as they filed out, passing by them as she made her way further into the room, "only return if it is an absolute emergency. Important Scion matters, and whatnot." Rhen rolled her hand in a nonchalant circle, to which some of the infantrymen snickered and rolled their eyes but nodded in understanding all the same, and finally Rhen was left alone.

It wasn't for long. As she hopped up onto the long desk that stood at the far back of the room and leaned forward with her palms pressed into the solid wood, the front doors opened again letting in a blast of cold winter air. "Best to keep bundled up out there, my friends! The wind is blowing something fierce!" A tall elezen man had come in and quickly closed the door behind him. His silver-blue hair tumbled out from his helm as he pulled it off, giving his head a single shake before turning around to a near-empty room. "Ah."

"Lord Haurchefant." Rhen remained on the desk, her legs crossing at the knee. "Braving the weather, I see? And what, pray tell, was so important that made you late for our meeting?" She was teasing him, of course. Even if she could keep a serious tone, her face would give it away in an instant.

"If it isn't my favourite champion! I do so sincerely apologize for the delay, and I hope you are willing to forgive me. It was not very noble of me to keep a lady waiting - especially one as important as you." His lips grew into a long, thin smile, brilliant blue eyes practically glimmering beneath the lights. He strode across the room, arms opening wide as he drew closer to the viera woman. "Could you find it in your heart of hearts?"

"Hmm... I'm not so sure, my Lord." Rhen's head canted to the side, her own grin growing to match his. She pressed a finger to her chin and tapped it a few times, "Perhaps," she started, noting his crestfallen face, "a hot cocoa will do the trick? You look as though you could use one, too." When he was within reach, she opened her own arms and pulled him into a warm - albeit slightly awkward due to his armor - embrace. "I've missed you." Her voice was soft, evidently content and feeling at peace in this moment.

“As I have missed you! Every time you leave the camp, I start wondering when I will be graced by not only your presence, but your shining and beautiful face again. It pains me so, to see you leave through those doors, you know.” His voice was friendly, not as deep as one would imagine upon first looking at him. It was jovial and bouncy, and it was clear he could make anyone smile, or break them out of a sour mood with just a few kind words. Haurchefant was sure to give her an extra squeeze before pulling away, resting his hands on her elbows as he got a good look at her. “Just as beautiful as the first day I met you. Right! Let’s get some of that cocoa going, eh?” He pulled away completely, still beaming at Rhen, then quickly turned on his heels and hurried through the door that led to his private stores.

✞——————❆——————✞

“Halone preserve me.” His words were hushed and quick as he sank back against the door. His hand lifted, wrist pressing to his forehead. What was he going to do? He had always been shameless in his flirting with the Warrior of Light - he didn’t exactly keep his feelings a secret. But… Did she know? Was he too forward just now, with his words and his actions? No, he couldn’t have been! She’s the one who welcomed, and even initiated, the embrace! Did that mean she felt the same…? “Pull yourself together, man!” His hand dragged down his face, and he let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “There is no way she could… She would ever...” He stopped himself and shook his head. “Hot cocoa. Right.”

“Why didn’t I kiss him.” As soon as she heard the door shut behind him, Rhen’s expression dropped and her hands immediately shot to cover her face. She let out a long groan of frustration, kicking her feet a bit off the side of the desk. “Gods dammit, Rhen.” Her hands fell back down to her lap and she sighed. She was getting ahead of herself. Sure, she could have kissed him. But would he even want that? Did he even have feelings for her? But the way he spoke to her… No, he talked to everyone like that didn’t he? Well, perhaps not everyone, but surely - “Ugh!” She hopped off the desk and started pacing up and down the length of the desk, arms crossed under her chest. Was she really in any position to develop feelings, especially for one with whom she worked so closely? It could potentially become a conflict of interest, and Rhen knew she wouldn’t hear the end of it from Alphinaud… not to mention Tataru would have that rumour spread faster than one could say ‘Hydaelyn’. No, no. Best to put the thought to rest. For now.

Finally, the water was ready and he carefully poured the water in. He gave each mug a good stir, then lifted each mug and held one out to Rhen. “For you, my lady.”

As if on cue, the elezen pushed his way through the door with two tin mugs in one hand, the other holding a sack filled with powder and a small jug of milk. His usual, friendly smile was plastered on his face and he seemed no different than he had before he walked into his store room. “Shouldn’t take too long, now! Just need to boil the water.” He moved fluidly across the room, retracing the same steps he had taken many times before on occasions just like these, be they with friends, random adventurers, and even on his own. He dropped the supplies on the desk, moved to the hearth to grab a small black cauldron which he brought over to another room which held a small fountain of water. He scooped some in, and with ease, carried it back and hitched it onto the short chain that hung right above the fire. Soon enough the flames were licking the bottom of the cauldron, and a small bit of steam rose from the lightly bubbling water. In the meantime, he set to prepping the mugs, spooning out generous portions of the cocoa powder into each, followed by a good splash of milk.

She took it with a smile. “Thank you.” Though it was hot, she cupped the mug with both hands, thankful for the warmth it provided her. The stone buildings of the Highlands, which were respite from the freezing temperatures outside, did not do well in terms of insulation and there was always a chill, regardless of how long a fire had been going. She moved closer to the hearth and sank down onto a bench that had been haphazardly pulled up by the infantrymen earlier on. Rhen lifted the mug closer to her face, taking in the smell of the decadent cocoa before blowing softly at the rim and taking a small sip. “Mmmn.. Delicious, as always.” Her head turned slightly, “The best hot cocoa this side of Ishgard. I could never have a better cup.”

He beamed in response, taking a small sip of his own. “Oh, you flatter me so.” He leaned back against the bench, resting his arm against the top, his fingers just inches from Rhen. It took everything he had to resist the temptation to reach out and gently stroke her back. “But if you insist. I’ve had a lot of time to practice making it. Not to mention countless cold and thirsty knights.” His eyes darted from her to the warm glow of the fire. “I couldn’t be happier, knowing someone as splendid as you, enjoys such a simple little treat.”

The viera scoffed, “Please. I’m not that special, Haurchefant.” She turned herself slightly on the bench, facing the knight a little better now. “I’m just an average adventurer.” Those words would hit a chord with him, and she knew it. It was said on purpose, as she loved how passionate he got when it came to her. It made her heart skip a beat, and her stomach turn in welcoming anxious knots.

“Average?! There is nothing average about you, Lady Rhen! You are malms above average! Imagine, the Warrior of Light, Hydaelyn’s chosen, arguably the most important member of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn being just average!” Here it came. That passionate, near heated retort. He nearly spilled his cocoa with how animated and excitable he got. “The things people would do to be included, or even acknowledged, by you and yours! Why, I had to pinch myself after I met you the first time! I could hardly believe that someone I had heard so much about, someone who had beaten primals, waltzed through my door!” His free hand had lifted to his head, a finger and thumb pressing against his temples. “The… the very notion that you, after all you have done, would think you are av-”

“Haurchefant.” Rhen hadn’t expected this much. She had no idea he’d take it so personally. “R-really, you don’t need to go into so much! A lot of what I’ve accomplished is because I haven’t done it alone, or even by mere coincidence! Luck, even.” She leaned her shoulder against the bench, looking up at him bewildered, one hand pressed to her chest.

“No! Rhen, you don’t-” He stood up, and took one step before turning slightly so his back was to her. “I mean.” A deep breath steadied him. “You truly are splendid, Rhen Hrafna, and that is something I will not argue.” He glanced to the hearth again, his hair falling over his eyes in such a way that blocked them from Rhen’s view.

She sighed, and reached out toward him. “I appreciate your kind words, really, I do. They… they mean a lot to me.” Her gaze was still steady on his face, though struggled to read it. She took a moment to ponder her next words carefully, sipping at her still-hot cocoa. “...You-”

“I apologize for my outburst, my lady.” He hadn’t meant to cut her off, but the silence was killing him. “Ah, but I forget myself. You came here to discuss important matters regarding the Scions, correct?” He turned back around to face her and sat down on the bench once more, that usual smile on his face. Truly, he wasn’t himself without it.

Rhen bit her lip, looking away for a brief moment, then retracted her hand the moment he turned around. “You’ve nothing to apologize for, Lord Haurchefant.” She shook her head, and returned the smile. “But, yes,” her body shifted slightly, “that is why I came here. It… really isn’t anything terribly important. Alphinaud just wanted me to relay some information, catch up with how things are progressing here.”

“Ah! The young Master Alphinaud! How is the lad? Chipper as always, I expect!” Haurchefant let out a chuckle, “As for how things are here, they are the same as ever, I’m afraid! The occasional threat, but nothing we haven’t been able to handle I can assure you! I trust things are going well over in Ishgard? You had an audience with Ser Aymeric, didn’t you?” It was time for Haurchefant to shift his body, though it seemed a bit more tense, more stiff.

“Yes, that’s right.” Rhen sipped her cocoa, “He was gracious, and a very kind host. I can see why he’s held in a relatively high regard. I look forward to meeting with him again, and hopefully working together toward not only rebuilding Ishgard, but reestablishing an alliance. They would prove to be an incredibly valuable ally. Alphinaud is still there, actually.”

“I see.” His words were uncharacteristically short, and lacked the usual vim and vigor. “It seems you have your hands full. To be expected, of course.” He nodded once before bringing the mug to his lips to take a long drink. “I…” the knight started to speak, and Rhen tilted her head, waiting for him to finish. “I hope you still remember your friends,” the word was stilted, “back here at Camp Dragonhead. While there isn’t much more you are able to do for us - not that we wouldn’t appreciate any help, of course - I… these halls would feel empty without a visit from you, whenever you are able.”

She felt herself recoil. Friend. There it was. The word she had been dreading. So, that’s how he really felt. She inhaled from her nose, sharp and short. “I could never forget you. All of you,” she added. “You have done much for me, and for the future of all Eorzea, Lord Haurchefant. Don’t discredit yourself and your accomplishments.” Tentatively, she reached a hand out and pressed it on top of his. Skin meeting skin sent a jolt through her body, and she wanted nothing more than to curl her fingers around his, squeeze his hand tight and confess everything, here and now. She would give up everything, if it meant being with him. “Politics are slow-going. It’s not as if I’ll be meeting with Ser Aymeric day after day, night after night. Things need to be put into motion, to pass through… I will have plenty of time to come back here.”

“But surely he set up accommodations for you in Ishgard?” Haurchefant hadn’t meant for the words to be bitter, but Rhen felt the bite, and pulled her hand away. Desperately, silently, he begged himself to remember the warmth and how it felt.

“Well, yes.” She blinked, confused by his reaction. “But it’s just a free room at the inn, nothing fancy.” Her hand curled around the tin mug again, no longer hot to the touch. “In fact it was your father, Count Edmont, who offered me private chambers in his home.” Her brow lifted, “Are you going to take up issue with that, too?”

“Father did? Well,” he chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, running the thought through his mind, “no, I don’t have a problem with that, my lady. You will be well taken care of and safe at Fortemps Manor.” And he would know where she was, Halone forbid anything happen. “My apologies. I am merely looking out for you and your safety.”

Rhen’s tongue clicked. “It is fine.” Finishing the rest of her cocoa, she pushed herself up from the bench and moved to the desk, resting the mug on top. “I do believe that was all we had to discuss.” She didn’t turn back to face him, and instead kept staring straight ahead; she didn’t want him to see the tears that were stinging the corners of her eyes.

Haurchefant sighed. “For the time being, yes. It is late, my lady. While I am sure the comforts of House Fortemps are calling, I would feel better if you remained here for the night. That blizzard has surely only gotten worse as the night progressed.” He, too, rose from the bench and made his way to a door off to the side, leaving his mug on the bench, ready to prep a room.

“... Thank you, Lord Haurchefant. That would be greatly appreciated. I’ll take but a moment to contact Alphinaud and let him know.”

✞——————❆——————✞

Haurchefant had the right idea. All through the night, Rhen could hear naught by the wind whipping and whistling around outside, rattling the single-pane glass windows. She was incredibly thankful for the hearth that had been lit in her room as she curled beneath the heavy dodo feather quilt. Still, sleep eluded her. She had been fed - it was a quiet and rather awkward dinner - the room had been set, and Haurchefant had even drawn a hot bath for her to help ease the chill. He even remembered that lavender helped her sleep, and had a sachet of it resting atop her pillow. Perhaps that was why.

The creaking of the door caught Haurchefant's attention, and he spun on his heels. He squinted in the low light, "My lady?" He froze in his spot, unsure if it was just a trick of the wind or if the Warrior of Light was really standing there in the doorframe, in nothing but a silk robe and cloak. "What are you doing out of bed?" He blinked, and remembered stubbing his toe a few minutes prior, "Ah- I hope I did not wake you? I was simply… cleaning up, and managed to catch my foot against the bench." He waved a hand, trying to brush the small lie aside.

Her mind was racing. Something had seemed so… off about Haurchefant tonight. At first, he was his usual eccentric self! It was a relief to see, especially after dealing with the stuffiness of the Holy See. But as their conversation went on, it was as though something happened, and he just changed. The only thing she could pinpoint was when the topic turned to Ser Aymeric, but surely… No, there was no reason why Haurchefant would get so upset over that. Rhen pushed herself up in the bed, pulling her knees to her chest. This. This is what was keeping her from resting.

Down the hall and through the door, Haurchefant remained in the main room, resting on the bench next to the hearth, elbows on his knees and his hands together. Why did he let himself lose control of his emotions like that? It wasn’t like him to get so… irrational. Yet, something about the way she spoke so highly of Aymeric - it was to be expected, of course, he was indeed a generous and kind soul, but… Haurchefant gripped his own hands tighter together. “Gods dammit…!” He cursed, and pushed off the bench again, this time his foot connecting with the heavy wood. He grumbled out - of course this would happen after he had changed into more casual, comfortable clothes. He bit his lip, trying not to make too much noise.

A moment passed, and he opted to pace about in a circle, keeping close to the hearth. He didn’t know what to do and for the first time in a long time, Haurchefant wasn’t feeling like himself. On one hand, he was so incredibly honoured and proud to be a friend to Rhen, the illustrious and sought-after white mage. His chest swelled when he spoke of her, or heard others speak her name and of her glorious deeds! But on the other hand he felt almost selfish, like he wanted to keep her all to himself, run away together where nobody could find them. Alas, he knew that would be impossible. She had her duties, as he had his own and it wouldn’t be in either of their characters to just leave that all behind. Not after they had both spent so long and worked so hard to get to where they were. They both had people who relied on them. He sighed, “... as I rely on her.” His words were whispered into the darkened room, hushed and barely audible.

“I need to talk to him.” Rhen spoke aloud, to herself. She needed to be clear of any doubts, any worries. Even if it meant losing him, Rhen needed to tell him everything that was on her mind, everything she felt, and ask him what happened, why he was acting that way earlier in the night. She threw the covers to the side and slipped out of the large bed. Her feet touched the cold stone, and her toes curled, but she pushed through how much it bit into her skin. She grabbed her cloak and tossed it over her shoulders before leaving her room. “I wonder…” She wandered down the hall, first stopping at Haurchefant’s private chambers. Before knocking, she pressed an ear to the door, listening for any sort of noise. Nothing, not even the crackling of a fire. She knocked regardless and pushed open the door, peeking through the small crack. “... Haurchefant?” She whispered into the darkness, but could see nothing. There was no response, no ruffling of sheets or soft sleepy grunts. There wasn’t even a shadowy lump on the bed to mark his presence.

She sighed and moved on from his room, sure to close the door as she left. Where could he be? Surely, he wasn’t called out for some sort of nightwatch? In the middle of this storm? She frowned; if he had, there would be words in the morning. The viera continued to tiptoe her way down the hall, peeking through various doors until she came to the end of the hall. The next door would lead to the main room. Suddenly, she found herself nervous; she didn’t know what she wanted to find on the other side. If he was there, would she be able to go through with this? Rhen bit her lip and opened the door without anymore second thoughts. If she was going to do it, she just had to do it.

"No, I just couldn't sleep." She stepped into the room, arms crossing over her stomach, to keep herself from shivering but also as a way to keep herself grounded. Her head turned slightly to the left, using her one good eye to peer and squint into the slowly darkening room. "... Is your foot alright? Do I need to heal-"

"No, no, thank you. Nothing is broken or bleeding, and I've handled much worse." He chuckled lightly, and for a moment all the tension between them was lifted. They both felt as though they could breathe easy again, but when the room got quiet and neither of them spoke, everything built up from the evening returned. It was thick, and nauseating. "But, you must needs get back to your room where it is warm! You'll end up sickly if you stay out here, threadbare and in the cold. I would hate to be the one responsible for the delay in Eorzea's saving!"

But as he moved closer to usher her back to her room, the moaning wind outside picked up whipping the door wide open. The pair of them lifted their arms to cover their faces, both letting out a sharp gasp as the penetrating cold hit them. "S-stay there, I'll get this." The blizzard was strong, blowing in the snow that had accumulated in front of the door inside in drifts, small pellets of ice mixing into the mess. But Rhen hadn't listened, and was already ahead of Haurchefant, bare feet leaving tiny footprints in the snow in her wake. He clicked his tongue but didn't dare try to argue. Instead, he moved at her pace and they reached the door together, using their combined strength to fight against the wind and push the door shut, latching it and keeping it barred shut with a thick plank of wood.

Rhen could feel her feet burning from the snow, and her lungs felt as though they were on fire. It took her a moment to come down from the slight rush and jump away from the snow, moving back toward the hearth, which the fire within nearly died completely and was now just a burning pile of embers. "That… wasn't my most prudent decision."

Haurchefant watched her, a sympathetic smile on his lips. He considered Rhen his charge, and even if his developing feelings drove him to overreact or overthink, her and her safety was his first priority, above all else. "I shall take you back to your room." It was a statement, and he wasn't going to give her much room to say no, as he was by her side in an instant and picked her up bridal style, the long train of her cloak and robe tangling together and draping over his arm.

He did as he was instructed, though hesitated for a split second, and sank slowly onto the bed next to her. He wasn't sure what to do with himself; his feet were planted firmly on the floor in case he needed to spring back up, but his torso was twisted slightly. His arms he kept low, hands resting on the tops of his knees, fingers drumming against them. "Rhen? Is everything alright?"

She made to protest, but found herself unwilling. So she let him scoop her up without a word, and rested her head on his shoulder, arms wrapping around him. If she could have just this moment and nothing else, she would be satisfied. "Don't feel like you need to rush." She murmured, unsure if he'd even hear her, but when she felt his pace slow she smiled.

“What were you doing wandering about so late?” They had made it back to her room, and Haurchefant was letting her down on the bed. He reached around her and pulled the cloak from her shoulders to hang it back up. “I can’t imagine such a strong, world-saving viera like yourself would be kept up from some howling wind and a bit of cold?” His head turned slightly, stealing a glance at her from over his shoulder.

Rhen sighed; she knew this would come up. There was a fleeting moment where she thought that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t have to bring it up, that she could just forget that she was going to open her heart entirely to him and just leave things how they were. But then, how long would she be able to keep it up? There was always the chance that it would be too late, and she knew it would be something she'd regret her entire life. "Come, sit beside me." She motioned to the bed and shifted, pulling one leg up to lay it flat against the mattress, turning so she would be able to face him directly.

"Do you care about me?"

Haurchefant's expression twisted, a mix of confusion and surprise. "Of course I do! You're my dearest friend! What would possess you to think I don’t?"

"Haurchefant, you aren’t listening. Do you care about me?” Rhen leaned forward, taking his hands in hers. Her eyes were wide, brows turned upward as she waited for him to understand, to respond.

The elezen was silent as he processed the question, his eyes staring down into hers, searching the mismatched grey hues. He felt her thumb drag along the top of his hand, and he blinked. “Wait, you don’t mean…”

Rhen inhaled deeply, and nodded. “I do. Haurchefant, I… That is to say--” She was stumbling over her words, finding it hard to concentrate over the pounding in her chest. She chewed her lip for a moment before continuing, “When we first met, you were kind and your words were… Well, a bit much if I’m being honest. But, they were flattering all the same, and it was refreshing to hear.” She saw his lips part as he went to speak, but she shook her head, wanting to finish before he said anything. “Over time, I found myself thinking of you more often, how I wished you could be on this journey with me - physically, with me, about how I couldn’t wait to come back to see you here… and I found myself starting to wonder if the words you said, all the compliments… If you truly meant them.” She could feel her cheeks growing hot by the second, and she dropped her gaze, opting to look at their hands.

“Rhen…” Haurchefant tilted his head to the side slightly, still watching her intently. He licked his lips and lifted a hand to her face, stroking her cheek with the backs of his fingers before cupping her chin to tilt her head back up. “Halone, forgive me for taking so long.” He whispered before closing the gap between them, pressing his lips to hers. It wasn’t forced, or rough but gentle, and what one would expect from someone like Haurchefant. He could feel her body tense for just a moment and was about to pull away when he felt her melt into his touch, her hand squeezing his, fingers curling together. He didn’t want this feeling to end.

For months he had been thinking of her nonstop. Since the moment he first laid eyes upon her, he knew she was special - and not just because of her deeds, her title. Just, her. She was plaguing his thoughts, not that he was complaining. At night, he dreamt of her, of moments like these and moments that would make brothel workers blush. Anytime the doors opened to his office, he would snap his head up in the hopes of seeing her walk through. There wasn’t a time he wasn’t worrying about her, and her safety. The relief and butterflies he would feel when he did see her were beyond compare, and unlike anything he could describe.

And right now, in this moment, he didn’t need to speak a word of that; she knew. All it took was that one kiss, which neither wanted to stop. Rhen’s arms lifted and draped over his shoulders, bending so her hands could comb through his hair. He complied, and leaned forward slightly, his own arms moving in to grab her from the waist and lift her slightly and pulled her into his lap; he could feel her smiling against his lips. The kiss deepened as Haurchefant dared to pry his tongue against her lips, begging entrance. She complied and their tongues met. His fingers dug into her skin slightly, and a shiver ran down Rhen’s back. “You have no idea how I’ve longed for this moment.”

✞——————❆——————✞

Daybreak. The sun was streaming through the single-paned glass window, flits of dust drifting lazily about. The fire in the hearth had long since died, no longer even smoldering. Rhen stirred, the sheets rustling slightly. Slowly and sleepily she blinked and pushed herself up onto her elbows. It took her a moment to gain her bearings before she looked around at the room; right. She remained at Camp Dragonhead because of the blizzard. That would also mean…

“Lay back down.” Haurchefant’s voice was muffled, his face buried into the pillow. He was peeking up at her with one eye, the corner of his mouth visible and turned up in a soft smile. He lazily lifted an arm and curled it around Rhen, dragging her back down to the bed. “Mmm… splendid.”

She giggled and wiggled about slightly, getting into a comfortable position, turning just enough so they were facing each other. She buried her face into the crook of his neck, leaving a trail of kisses down from his jaw. “Good morning.” Her arm draped over his side, fingers tracing gentle and soft lines up and down his back. So it hadn’t been a dream… good. She smiled and let out a content hum.

“And a good morning, it is!” Haurchefant stirred a bit, allowing Rhen to get comfortable before wrapping his arm back around her, holding her close. He was basking in this feeling, in this moment. “I trust you slept well?” His lips pressed to her forehead in a tender kiss. His legs, as well, shifted slightly so as to entangle their bodies even more. He wanted to feel as one with her, and he wanted to stay just like this forever.

Rhen nodded, “And you?”

“Best I’ve slept in ages.” Another kiss to her forehead.

“Haurchefant?” She paused for a moment, and he grunted in response, “What does this mean for us?”

He pulled back slightly so he could get a better look at her face. His expression was gentle and soft, the sweetest and most sincere smile pulling at his lips. “Well, if you would rather keep this a secret and never speak of it again, I would understand. I would be terribly heartbroken, I won’t lie.” He chuckled, and pressed a finger to her lips when he saw she was about to speak. “But,” his expression changed slightly, still sweet but a little more serious. Blue eyes shone in the sunlight. “Rhen Hrafna. Would you grant me the highest honour of staying with me, by my side, as not only my dearest and most cherished friend, but as my partner?” The arm that was around her moved, hand grabbing hers and pulling it up to his lips, “Say you’ll be mine.” He kissed her fingers, each one individually, and so delicately.

“Haurchefant Greystone.” She was beaming, her cheeks red and warm, “I am the one who will be honoured to call you my partner. Forever, and always.” She could feel the tears begin to prick the corners of her eyes, but this time they were of joy. Of a sweet relief, feeling all the weight finally lift from her shoulders. “I am yours, and I always will be.”

“Those words… They are music to my ears. You’ve made me the happiest man alive on this day, you know!” Haurchefant laughed, and it was like a chorus. It was joyful, radiant, filled with love and life. He pulled her in close once more, tightening his grasp around her in an embrace. “This feeling… this excitement. Ahhh, it’s splendid!” Haurchefant took a deep breath and let out a long, happy sigh. His other hand, burdened by being under Rhen’s frame, moved slightly to absently stroke her hair.

“That’s a bold claim, my Lord.” She teased, and the pair chuckled. “But I’m glad. Truly, I couldn’t be happier!” Her hand pressed against the middle of his back. “Long have I waited to hear you say those words, and to hold me just like this.”

“As have I, Rhen. I have dreamt of moments just like these. You’ve never once left my thoughts.”

“I guess that means we’ll be staying in bed a bit longer then?”

He hummed in response, “Please… just a bit longer.” He kissed her again, softly.

“Anything for you.”

[outoftheframework]

characterization cheat sheet - batfamily girls + additional characters / elements

Some of you wanted to see another one of these posts including the girls, so I thought I’d combine them with a few other points I was thinking about after I posted the first one.

You can read about the batboys here.

Cassandra Cain:

Age: 18-22

Appearance: Cassandra is of asian descent, typically has pale skin, shoulder-to-chin length jet-black hair, and a button nose. She has the body of a dancer, with long legs, a lean middle, and strong arms. Cass is typically wearing black and is drawn with dark, strong features to match. 

Personality: Comic Cass is almost on the complete opposite of the spectrum as the one portrayed in Birds of Prey. She is disciplined and seems to work well with teams / under the direction of Batman. She has the potential to grow into herself more as a leader. Cass can be impressionable, especially toward the beginning of her journey and with people she likes/admires, like Batman or Stephanie. Cass is similar to Dick in her capacity to love and her dedication to her found family.

Speech: She grew up training to be a master assassin completely reliant on reading body language, and was never taught to read or speak. Her portrayals range from her being completely illiterate to her having a stronger control of language after spending some time with the batfamily. Her desire to learn and express herself is a hallmark of her personality, and she can sometimes become frustrated. Cass can be expressive through her body and facial features, and in some iterations (mostly fanworks) communicates through sign language. 

Additional Attributes: Cass is a good listener and often easy to get along with. She is sometimes caught up with proving her strength/her worth, especially to her biological parents and sometimes Batman. Despite her being illiterate, do not write off Cass as unintelligent; she is on par with the rest of the batfamily. Cass likes to travel and sometimes takes long journeys away from Gotham.

Barbara Gordon:

Age: 25-30

Appearance: Barbara has red/orange hair of varying lengths, often pulled out of her face (with some fly-aways). She wears glasses often while working as Oracle, but I’ve never seen a Batgirl interpretation wearing glasses while in uniform. Her wearing contacts could be a little detail to add to your work. Babs shares some features with the Commissioner (who also wears glasses). She is tall and healthily thin. She’s often dressed in comfortable clothes or business casual attire. As Oracle, she is a wheel-chair user.

Personality: Growing up in Gotham as a police officer’s, and later the Commissioner’s, daughter, Barbara is thick-skinned, outspoken, and can advocate for herself. She holds secrets and lies easily, even to her father whom she loves. As Oracle, Barbara suffers from PTSD, which affects her mood and actions, more so in the beginning of her time with the mantle. After some time coming to terms with her injury and trauma, Barbara delves into her work as Oracle, which is a monumental help to the batfamily. She’s smart and quick-witted, and never misses an opportunity for a pun.

Speech: Barbara grew up with Jim, who definitely has a strong Gotham accent. Her speech is assertive and doesn’t typically stutter or trail off at the end of sentences. At work she speaks very differently than at home or with friends. She has a playful canter to her voice when relaxed and surrounded by trusted companions. Her voice as Oracle is smooth and clear like a radio host, as she is to provide information quickly and accurately. Her voice has a calming effect to the vigilantes out in the field.

Additional Attributes: Babs is the best at calling Dick Grayson out on his bullshit, and he typically cares about her opinion the most. She appreciates friendships but is not reliant on romantic relationships. She is one of the world’s best hackers and computer scientists, with a very high IQ. 

Stephanie Brown:

Age: 17-20

Appearance: Long blonde hair with bright eyes and pink lips. She has a cute beauty to her and tends to keep herself well-groomed. She often wears purple (her favorite color) and black. Stephanie Brown is one of those characters that artists love to give unrealistic body proportions to. Perhaps because she’s blonde? Whatever the reason, she’s often drawn with like a 10-pack and back-breaking-ly large breasts as a teenager. I implore you not to do this, but I mean, whatever floats your boat. She’s a vigilante but is also a teenager that obeys the laws of human proportions.

Personality: Steph is witty and loud. In fan works she’s often the one to suggest a fast-food run or dare someone to do something wild. Stephanie is a self-starter and dedicated to heroism after growing up with a dad involved in crime who continually abandoned and lied to her. Steph is still young and can get caught up in common teenage angst and gossip. She can make mistakes but stringently takes steps to correct them.

Speech: Stephanie is close to Jason in the degree of her accent, but with a feminine touch and a stronger control of modern slang. Sometimes uses speech fillers as in “um” and “like.” Her voice fluctuates in tone with her emotions. She likes to tease and joke around, and can purposely use incorrect grammar.

Additional Attributes: In her original continuity, Stephanie became pregnant as a young teenager (I want to say around 15 years old). She is mostly firm in her decision to not raise the baby, but some doubts and regrets still appear when she’s emotional. She found a lot of support in Tim during that time, but ultimately the decision was her own and caused her to mature very quickly. Steph’s hero name of “Spoiler” stems from her “spoiling” the plans of villain “Cluemaster,” her father. Stephanie loves waffles.

Additional Elements and Characters:

Kate Kane: I admittedly haven’t read much involving Batwoman, but here’s some basic points.

She is a female foil to Batman as his Bruce’s cousin; she similarly uses her wealth to fight crime in Gotham

She has bright red long hair and very pale skin, with a tall athletic body

Her sexuality is a main theme explored in her narratives

Jim Gordon: One of my favorite reoccurring supporting characters

Jim is of average height with a slightly athletic build due to his position. He wears glasses and often neutral colors like tans and grays.

Jim Gordon without a mustache isn’t Jim Gordon

He has a very accurate moral compass and is adept at following his gut feelings about danger. He is at foremost a detective, which contributes to his relationship to Batman.

Alfred Pennyworth: The man, the myth, the butler

Alfred lived a full and exciting life before working for the Waynes, and is trained in military medical assistance

He can put on a calm and collected appearance to take control of a situation despite his actual feelings 

Alfred is loyal to the Wayne family but will not hesitate to reprimand Bruce or the kids

Ace the Batdog or Titus?: The age old question

Titus is directly associated with Damian and his softer side/love for animals

Ace is more so Bruce’s dog, and sometimes even performs clutch actions to help out Batman and co.

Wayne Manor: These walls hold a lot of secrets

The mansion is located just inside the city limits of Gotham, with expansive surrounding land and a long, gated driveway

The manor is secured with the latest security systems to keep both enemies out and sneaky kids in

The layout changes and is up for interpretation, but it’s often described as “stately,” which implies grand and old architecture

The whole mansion is well-kept but Alfred, but some places accumulate dust, especially high bookshelves and little nooks and crannies

Gotham City: Take creative liberties

Gotham varies from a some-what functional city with corruption and violence in the shadows to a complete gothic hell scape where it’s never daytime

These can add realism or an elements of fantasy, respectively

Gotham is a mix of old and new, with modern corporations like Wayne Enterprises mixed with ornate art deco buildings like City Hall

Like real cities, Gotham is a mix of safer, more tourist-y areas and more dangerous areas like the appropriately named “Crime Alley”

Hope this helps! Feel free to add on, and remember to be civil and respect other people’s interpretations :)

[misssophiachase]

For @klarolinefallbingo “Bonfire”

Eyes on Fire

The back to school bonfire will bring together two very unlikely seniors. But maybe these mates have more in common than first thought.  

 Monday

“But our mascot is the timber wolf, it makes perfect sense to design the bonfire that way,” Caroline insisted, hands on hips. He didn’t respond immediately, just curved those annoyingly crimson lips into a knowing smile. 

Ass.

Klaus Mikaelson, a fellow senior and semi-gifted artist (in her opinion), had been seconded by the planning committee to create the bonfire design. If Caroline had her way he’d have no role at all but she was outvoted nine to one. 

Traitors.

Caroline lived to plan school events. Given she’d been doing it since freshman year, they were second nature to her.  The school bonfire was a significant part of the back to school festivities and, given it was their senior year, Caroline knew it had to be her most perfect yet.

But now Klaus Mikaelson, of all people, was invading her territory and, worse than that, challenging her ideas in front of the entire committee.

It also didn’t help that her life-altering summer was still very much playing on her mind either. One minute she was Caroline Forbes, class president and almost senior, and the next she was a seventeen year-old vampire.     

A Mystic Falls resident all her life, Caroline had heard the stories of strange happenings, not to mention the abnormal amount of animal attacks reported. But she found it was best left alone which was why she was so heavily focused on school, well until she transitioned. 

It had taken the entire summer just to control her bloodlust with the help of her friends. But if there was anything Caroline hated, it was losing control and this bonfire was supposed to be her triumphant return to normal life. 

Although, she was starting to wonder what normal actually meant and if it even applied to her life anymore. Meanwhile, this bonfire stealer was not helping matters.   

“Might I suggest a Trojan horse instead?” He flashed a stray dimple and she swore the female committee members all swooned in unison. 

“But what does that symbolise in this context?”

“The ancient Greeks...”

“I don’t need a history lesson,” she growled, thinking her impressive GPA spoke for itself. 

“It signifies rivalry.”

“Oh, you mean the panthers?” One of the committee members offered. 

“Uh, yes,” he said unconvincingly. Caroline fought the urge to roll her eyes. The fact someone so disinterested in football was in charge of design was ridiculous. “The Trojan horse represents something intended to undermine or secretly overthrow an enemy. By burning it we are sending a message to our opponents, the, uh, pirates was it?”

“That’s brilliant!” Another member interrupted and the rest followed suit. Obviously they didn’t care about his lack of experience.

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly say that,” Caroline muttered. 

Before she knew it a vote was held and they’d all dispersed leaving only her and the artist extraordinaire alone. Standing on the far side of the room, hands in jean pockets, he raised his eyebrows in her direction tellingly almost as if to say “well?”

Caroline was trying to process a myriad of emotions. No doubt due to her recent supernatural status, which was hardly unusual, but he seemed to bring something more out of her although she couldn’t quite pinpoint what. 

She was also trying to ignore just how blue his eyes looked in that navy henley and the way his blonde hair curled teasingly over his ears. She shook her head determined to regain some, if not all, semblance of composure. 

“You are insufferable, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Why thank you, love, although not the first time I’ve heard it,” he smirked. “You’re incredibly uptight, has anyone ever told you that?”  

“Why are you doing this?” She asked folded her arms across her chest while purposely avoiding his comment. 

“Doing what exactly?” He asked, making his way toward her slowly. Caroline was trying to ignore just how good he smelled but it was becoming increasingly difficult. 

“You don’t even like football and, last time I checked, school activities in general.” 

The Mikaelson family had appeared in Mystic Falls a year earlier. Given the mystery surrounding their arrival and their good looks they’d caused quite the stir in small town Virginia. Caroline had no intention of fawning over Klaus the tortured artist and had kept her distance for the most part.

Until now. 

Before she knew it, his mouth was now only mere inches from hers and she was fast losing all sense and willpower. 

“Who says I don’t have school spirit?” His husky tone was not lost on Caroline. “In fact, I can be very spirited if necessary, love.”

She acted quickly, placing her hands on his chest and pushing him away albeit with shaky hands. Obviously the hardened vampire inside had decided to take an inopportune break. 

“You might have won this round but…”

“Not the war,” he finished, respecting the space between them. Although, she wasn’t sure for how long given the way his eyes were perusing her so intimately. “How fitting given our Trojan theme.”

“Game on, Mikaelson.” Caroline warned, turning on her heel, desperate to increase the space between them. 

It wasn’t fear.

No. It was something so much more.    

Saturday

High school culture was always so damn predictable.  

Klaus watched on as his bonfire roared to life and the loud cheers from jocks and cheerleaders alike sounded out. Most were wasted and probably didn’t even fully appreciate the effort. 

It was some of his best work and seemed a shame to destroy but he was playing a part. His eyes flickered over to the girl in question. Her denim jacket hugged her chest, the light from the fire only illuminating her blonde waves and creamy skin. 

She’d felt so good the other day and Klaus was surprised he managed to stop himself. He’d been watching her for the past year at school and had only ventured to London on Mikael’s instance over the summer to then find out, too late, she’d transitioned.  

It took all his willpower not to kill those who’d let it happen. He wasn’t against vampirism given he was a hybrid but was against anyone who hurt her. Klaus was also still suspicious that his father had done it on purpose but couldn’t prove it just yet.

So, when he returned, Klaus made it his aim to be with her at all times. Designing the bonfire was the perfect excuse to be close. Even if she didn’t appreciate his ideas. 

“They seem to like it.” He’d found his way toward her in the woods, the stray twigs and autumn leaves crunching underfoot. 

“They’re drunk, they’d cheer for anything, Mikaelson.” Klaus fought the urge to laugh given he’d been thinking the very same thing. 

“You have a point,” he conceded. “But nevertheless I think we make a pretty good team.”

“Team bonding? Wow, next thing I know you’ll be signing up to all extra curricular activities and doing spirit fingers.”

“I’ve seen Bring it On,” he replied and she finally turned to look at him, her dubious expression not lost on him. “It’s Rebekah’s favourite film and she plays it on repeat.”

“Excuses, excuses,” she chanted and he couldn’t miss the small smile that tugged on her lips. “So, are you going to leave now?”

“As organiser of this event I’m committed to staying the course.”

“Liar,” she teased, this time her smile was obvious as much as it was radiant. “You’re only staying for the s'mores.”

“Whatever you say,” he lied, happy to have an excuse to be near her as long as possible. 

Seated on logs side-by-side as the moonlight engulfed them, she taught him silly campfire songs while he told ghost stories that would rival most. The night slowly slipped away and, in the early hours of the morning, the two slipped into a nearby tent too tired to concentrate further. 

It was innocent of course, but Klaus couldn’t deny how good she felt, her back moulded against his chest. He inhaled her scent, trying not to get lost in her but it was proving increasingly difficult. 

He moved away quietly as the light streamed into the tent, determined to get some much needed space. He walked towards the nearby stream, the only sound emanating from the birds. He placed both hands in the cold water and ran them over his face and through his unruly curls.

How had he gotten himself into this mess? He loved her so much and now he didn’t know what to do or how to explain his actions or feelings. 

“You’re my mate, aren’t you?” He heard her voice behind him, the raw emotion and vulnerability he couldn’t miss. 

He turned to face her, thinking how beautiful she looked first thing in the morning, but then he’d think that anyway. He noticed a stray tear in her left eye and immediately felt bad for not coming clean sooner. 

But how do you admit to someone they were your everything, without it seeming entirely awkward? 

“You’ve deceived me.”

“I didn’t,” he finally found his voice. “I was only giving you time before...”

“Says the guy who gatecrashed my planning committee,” she growled. “I don’t appreciate being treated like a fool. But I guess that explains your hesitance to burn a wolf designed bonfire.”

“Maybe” he offered, taking a chance and the small window that had been offered. “But everything I did and said was for your benefit. I love you, Caroline.”

In high school terms that line would be the epitome of desperation. But she was his soulmate and all emotions were now laid bare whether they liked it or not. 

She seemed unmoved but at the same time was clearly considering her options. He had never felt so helpless in his life and the silence was killing him.  

“I’m planning the Halloween dance and fully expect you to help,” she demanded. “And there’s going to be meetings, lots and lots of them. So you better be present and available for anything needed out of hours.”

He stifled a smirk. Who was he to argue with that?

“Yes, ma’am.”

Things seemed to right themselves even if he was her slave. Not that Klaus minded that dynamic at all. She clearly loved him just as much as he did but didn’t mind waiting for it to unfold. 

They were mates after all and had all the time in the world.  

[marireadshellblazer]

Hellblazer Issue #6

While I have read all of this before, I am trying to look at this, in some ways, like I am seeing it for the first time. I’m trying to bring out some of the initial, raw thoughts I had when I had read it the first time.

In keeping with the theme of showing the dark sides of society in these early chapters, it was only a matter of time before the subject of racism and white supremacy came up. This is such a tricky subject to approach no matter what medium is used (comics, novels, plays, TV, etc), and you could argue that it isn’t handled in the most…graceful manner. However, it is good that this is addressed in the series. These dark sides of humanity heavily characterize John’s world; parts of society that a lot of the more privileged members prefer to not see. For John, who sees the worst the world has to offer, these issues are all around him; loud, unavoidable, and heavily tainting even the brightest of moments. John is a cynical man, and it’s not hard to see why. Sadly, this is an all too real reflection of the real world.

I think that growing up the way he did and the area of London he lives in allows John to see a lot of the problems that the upper class (the snobs of the world) and most politicians choose to ignore and puts them front and center; hate crimes, crime just in general, poverty, prostitution/exploitation of women, and the effects this sort of environment has on the young people who can’t escape it. Now, I have never been to London, or Europe for that matter, so I’m not sure if this is just an exaggeration of what the area is like; Delano exaggerating the poverty situation in this area for story-telling purposes. Therefore, I’m not sure how accurate my assumptions are surrounding how “real” this portrayal is of the time this series takes place in. But, I did grow up in another big city; Chicago. And using what I know from life there, I can say that issues like these in certain neighborhoods and projects in and around big cities are very real and very hard to properly impress upon one who hasn’t experienced life there just how very dangerous and terrible they are.

When I left Chicago, I was stunned when I found out that, for people outside the city, gun violence and arson weren’t a normal part of life. Gang activity, using techniques to ward off pick pockets, and knowing which bakeries were fronts for drug smugglers weren’t common knowledge or part of everyday life. It honestly blew me away to see the reaction people had in the other parts of the Midwestern United States I have lived in when someone would go missing or get busted for using meth; the whole town would take it very personally. But for me I felt almost nothing; one person went missing here, but in Chicago, at least 4 people went missing, three died from a drive-by, and the mortician I’m friends with buried two bodies in one casket (one hidden below the other) in order to hide a murder victim who was taken out by the mob (I wish I was joking). So, suffice to say, as sad and disturbing a world John lives in, exaggerated or not, it feels strangely real to me. It’s in big cities like Chicago and London that I think racial violence gets particularly dangerous (don’t quote me on that. But the amount of people who die for being Hispanic/black in Chicago via gun is staggering). Big cities might be seen as colorful due to the mix of languages, ethnicities, and cultures, but it’s also because of this prejudice is often on full display. The more reasons there are to “other” people, the more people will find a way to do it. And it’s a terrible shame. I mean, there’s no reason for that crap. I mean, is it really so hard to at the very least be respectful to each other? SMH

So! That’s just a little bit on where I’m coming from/what’s effecting my reading experience! On to some thoughts!

Aight, well the comment about the Ralph Steadman painting, as it turns out, is not an exaggeration. I looked that shit up and, honestly, he’s not wrong.

I liked that they described creating corruption and as a demon’s real art. It helps hammer home that the corruption and darkness in the hearts of people are a demonic domain which brings the hellish reality in which John lives to life. Very nice.

I love that “weird sex attacks” is in the same line as suicides and cannibalism. Something about that made me double-take.

Nice Bob Dylan reference

Am I the only one that thinks Zed’s hair is weird? Era appropriate or not, I still think it’s weird.

Smooth John…very smooth.

I’m not going to lie, I snorted when I saw what Nergal did to those racists. There’s something poetic about forcing people who unwilling to have empathy and work with/understand others be unable to escape being together. Very nice descriptions of his process in creating the bigot-abomination. Also loving how Nergal is characterized here. He is truly gross. Just…the sewer demon orgy. I was not prepared for that, but I feel like I should have been.  

When they show the abomination leaving the sewers, something about the writing there made me think of The Mob Song from the Disney version of Beauty and the Beast. Anyone else get that vibe?

Now, as far as John and Zed go, I’m not sure if I’d call them a couple. Seems inaccurate. Would this be more like FWB? I mean there is clearly trust there, but we don’t see a lot of depth beyond that. I mean, chemistry? I’m not sure how to say. Not saying it’s bad or anything, but nothing that says “they so cute” either. Maybe this was intentional. 

I fucking love Ray. He is such a sweet man. Dude he just…he deserves better. He really does.

Also, once again, freaking love the cover art. 10/10.

Words I had to look up (also, for the derogatory words I include below I mean no offense; these were honest to God words that I didn’t know the meaning of and saw for the first time here. I figured, based on context, they were not good, but I didn’t really know the meaning. I wanted to share that part of my experience, so I included them here):

dole- benefit paid by the government to the unemployed (familiar with it, but never seen it in that context before so I was confused)

yid- derogatory word for a Jewish person

wog- derogatory word for anyone who is not white

fug- warm, stuffy or smoky atmosphere in a room (this is my new favorite word)

strewth- interjection, expresses surprise. I think it might be something akin to “fuck!”

[tfw-no-tennis]

mtmte liveblog issue 9

back at it again, and its time for the shadowplay arc, HELL yeah

oh I'm so excited i love this arc lets DO this

oooh its nightbeat and quark!! way before they become relevant, which is so cool

‘one of those recepticon fanatics’ lmao imagine if they were...the recepticons. just doesn't have the same ring to it 

god i fucking love all the politics of mtmte. i love how they’re talking about the senate here before we really get to See how bad they were (we heard a bit about it from whirl a few issues ago, and now here)

love how nightbeat is pretty much agreeing with the decepticon ideology here, even if its clear that he isn't Actually a decepticon - it just drives home the fact that, in this story, The Decepticons Were Right About A Lot Of That Stuff (or at least, they had a reason other than ‘destruction’ for rebelling). 

AND THEN THERES RUNG!!!!!!! WITH HIS MODEL OF THE LOST LIGHT....god i fuckgin LOVE the continuity in this story bc the first time reading this ur like oh ok rung is old yea makes sense...but then later all the time travel stuff happens and then its like OHHHHH 

damn poor rung nightbeat can rlly tell he's lonely just by looking at him vbhjdkdfhbjsjkdf geez. also nightbeat that's ur mystery stick bf from the future js!!

quarks extreme POV on all of the stuff is so interesting, and makes so much sense bc of Course he would think that as a non-combatant scientist who, due to his functional value in current society, wouldn't really benefit much from a revolution - in fact, he’d probably lose a lot. and that’s the sort of thing where you’re like, ok well think about everyone else dude, have some perspective - but at the same time, quark did suffer a pretty terrible fate, so his fears weren't entirely unfounded...augh, its so fascinating...im sorry I'm not gonna shut up about space robot politics this Entire time

HOW did nobody notice that dead body before now

ratchet spray-painting the hands he stole from pharma to match his own paintjob is like...kinda gruesome if you think about it hvbhsjkdfbkjdf

i love rewind sooo much oh my god 

he rlly stashed rung’s comatose body in a wheelchair behind the bar hbkjdhfbshjkdf rewind 

rewind and chromedome’s tag-team explanation....ough hhhhh THEM 

wait a sec, rewind, you have medical records in your database? that is, at least according to regular medical laws, very illegal lmao. my favorite long-running theme in mtmte: the fact that hipaa and osha laws on cybertron are either basically nonexistent, or just universally disregarded 

what the actual fuck is up w/cybertronian time units. that shit is wack as hell 

ooh i love how chromedome looks different in the flashback - no shoulder tires! - that's a cool detail

how come prowl just said ‘minute,’ rewind was busting it up w/all the wack ass fantasy time units just a second ago. geez

also goddd i love the scenery of pre-war cybertron, its SUCH a cool setting like, visually and aesthetically and politically

like, i adore details like the sign in the bg that says ‘everyone’s shape serves a purpose.’ really adds to the ‘society on the precipice of civil war currently controlled by an increasingly-desperate faction who are doling out propaganda like crazy in an attempt to maintain their image and control over the populace’ vibe

good ole murder mystery setup. love it!

pre-war prowl is such an interesting character. actually prowl in general is such an interesting character...I kinda wrote him off during my first read of mtmte (and even a little during my second readthru) as just this dude who’s an asshole (espec bc my prev tf experience involved watching tfa as a kid, and this prowl is very different from tfa prowl lol)...but prowl is SUCH a multi-faceted and interesting character, even in the relatively little we see of him in mtmte 

plus it was interesting to learn later that prowl was one of the characters that jro wanted for mtmte and didn't get, and MAN i wish he got prowl bc I would've loved to see what jro would've done w/prowl on the lost light, that would've been amazing. like, just imagine the arc he would have...I have no idea what that arc would BE, but I know it would be awesome. plus I’d be really interested to see how prowl would factor in, relationships-wise, amongst the crew of the lost light. so much potential!

anyways. I'm in a very talky mood tonight it seems. its currently 4 am so that kinda explains it. ok, moving on!

chromedome and prowl bantering....in their own morbid forensic-cop way...

skids bvhjdbsfjasf. speaking what we’re all thinking: is prowl gonna keep showing up in mtmte despite not technically being part of the cast??

swerves drawing of prowl lmaoooo

AND THEN REWIND IN SOME OF MY FAVORITE MTMTE PANELS....fuckgin cracks me up every time god. rewind was rlly about to flip their entire ass table just to demonstrate that prowl is a serial table-flipper...and then he cant even make the table budge and he just stares at his hands like ‘how could you betray me like this’ hvbajkhhsfdhksdf PEAK hilarity

drift hvbshfdjbasdfj his forcibly cheery expression even tho he’s being harassed by rodimus, who is a big whiny toddler w/drift lmao 

rodimus is the type of guy who, upon drift not replying to one of his texts, would post a whole twitter thread being all like ‘these days u cant trust any1 to hav ur back...u think u kno someone and then they just ghost you...(1/14)’

again, rewind, HOW and WHY do you just Have medical reports, oh my god, somebody please call a hipaa agent I’m scared, 

ratchet interrupting the story to give a quick medical PSA....that's Such an on-brand thing for Me to do that I feel like jro is assigning me ratchet kin as I read this

also, hey, its sonic and boom, those two decepticons from delphi! nice little continuity there

AND HERES ORION PAX SUPER COP

can’t believe idw made my dad optimus prime into a cop. smh. shouldn't be that shocked tho, I feel like half the idw characters are cops

orion rlly hit them w/the omae wa mo shinderu arrest strat

orion: I cant believe you're beating this guy up. anyways, now I'm gonna beat YOU up,

when ratchet puts his hand over drifts mouth and then gets spray paint on drifts face bhjdfsvsdjhfgbjdskf

pre-war ratchet and drift ;_; ratchet’s little inspirational speech...the fact that he tells drift that he’s special...the fact that drift remembered all of this even after 4 million+ yrs...it gets me bro it GETS me

ALSO the layers in the fact that drift then goes on to become a well-known murderous decepticon...so this little scene of him and ratchet in the past gives a lot of context to ratchet’s general attitude towards drift - ratchet clearly feels at least somewhat responsible for all the blood on drift’s hands, since he saved drift’s life way back in the day

the whole relinquishment clinic thing is such cool worldbuilding, bc of course that's the kind of thing that would develop in a society of robot aliens who are only allowed to work within the rigid confines of their alt mode 

I love the whole matrix thing bc its kinda like being the pope or st but also you have a ton of political sway, so its a super important position, so of Course the corrupt senate would want full control over that power, and would assassinate the current prime to try to get their own guy in 

god vhbhjsdkbgshjdf rodimus is such a dick lmao poor drift

HHHHH I love that the cybertronian version of an autopsy is taking the dudes body apart into the smallest components and laying them all out. that's so fucking cool

hmmmm chromedome maybe you should Not be interested in mnemology, how about that,

oh god. time to start being sad about op and senator shockwave. oh god

senator shockwave more like senator sexy 

also the first time I read this I thought I had just missed his name and like halfway thru the story I went back and scoured the pages looking for it hbvhsjdfbshgfdsbj then I was like oh ok so we’re maybe supposed to just know who this guy is from another comic? but NOPE it was very deliberate and I only realized very close to the end that they were setting up some sort of reveal

its funny bc normally I'm not a huge fan of stories where politics play a huge role but I fuckgin love it here, the politics and worldbuilding is all so interesting and also balanced out with a healthy dose of cool sci-fi hijinks, so

lmao there's chromedome being obsessed w/people making the ‘pfft’ sound 

also wow yet more hindsight, maybe you Shouldn’t be so interested in the Institute, chromedome, 

OHHHH shit I forgot abt the red alert stuff happening at the same time as this :( :( :( 

AUGHHH what a fucked up situation. god 

oooof i gotta continue now!! what a solid issue, I love the shadowplay arc

[nomolosk]

Snapshots (AU Yeah August 2020)

read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25655623/chapters/62626303

Day 8- Secret Dating

Marinette had no idea what she was doing or even what was going on. One moment she was convinced that she’d gravely offended Gabriel Agreste, who had rudely fallen on top of her while she was sleeping the night before, and the next she’s feeling disoriented and confused because the man she thought was Gabriel Agreste actually turned out to be his son, Adrien Agreste. 

Marinette really felt like that was something she should have known. Why didn’t she know that before? Adrien was a public figure! His face was all over billboards on a regular basis! He featured in every Gabriel magazine, and his ads were in most other magazines as well. She should have been able to recognize him, or even remember that Gabriel had a son, and she should have noticed that the man last night looked too young to be Gabriel himself. She remembered all of that as soon as the man introduced himself properly, so why hadn’t she remembered it before?

On top of that confusion, was the fact that not only was he not offended by last night’s mistake, he was the same hot model from the cafe! Marinette knew she was scatterbrained sometimes, but surely even she couldn’t forget something like that!

Something was definitely rotten in the state of Denmark. Or Paris, at any rate. And it was probably due to some kind of akuma. This one, though, was apparently very subtle. Marinette continued to make small talk with this unfairly hot and inexplicably interested model while she tried to sort out what was going on and how she really felt. The manipulation of her own emotions wasn’t entirely out of the picture if there was an akuma involved. Then someone else called his name and annoyance and distaste flitted over his face before he smoothed out his expression into something polite.

The woman who’d called his name was probably another model, someone he worked with- she was tall and beautiful and projected an air of, not just confidence, but possessiveness. She latched onto Adrien’s arm as if she was a cat, and he was a scratching post. Marinette’s eyes flicked to his face again, but while his expression didn’t waver, he was looking anywhere but her- which in itself was a huge warning sign. He was clearly used to this behavior and as clearly wished it wasn’t happening.

“Adrien! Fancy meeting you here!” The brunette simpered, completely ignoring Marinette.

“It should hardly be a surprise to you, Lila,” Adrien answered calmly. “I’m sure you overheard Nathalie giving me my schedule for today after last night’s photoshoot.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at the emphasis on ‘overheard,’ turning slightly away from them to rearrange some of the jewelry on the table, trying to decide which piece would best suit the woman. She had warm coloring, so gold or brass toned, maybe copper… Marinette suppressed a smile as Lila sputtered a bit.

“You know I’m just concerned about your health, Adrien,” Lila finally cooed at him. Marinette could practically hear her pout. “Your father works you awfully hard, and I almost never see you outside of work.”

“If you’re so concerned about it, perhaps you should be a little more cooperative during our photoshoots so they don’t drag on for forever.”

The woman named Lila laughed, “But Adrien, you know your father relies on me to make sure all our pictures together are just to die for!”

By this time Marinette had finished straightening, and had picked out something she thought would suit the woman. There was currently a mania for ocean-themed jewelry, and an eight-stranded gold chain bracelet with an octopus charm would suit Lila. She picked it up and turned back to them, just in time to see Adrien looking pointedly away from Lila as the woman in question tried to plaster herself to his side, with her face tilted up in what was probably supposed to be an inviting way.

Marinette blinked at this blatant display, but she’d already decided to interfere, so she spoke up anyway. Ironically, Lila’s current position made the octopus charm even more fitting for her. Marinette could practically see the invisible tentacles she was trying to wind around her fellow model.

“This bracelet would suit you, Madame,” Marinette said, in her best salesperson tone. “The delicate gold chains compliment without overwhelming, and the charm in the shape of an octopus is the latest trend.” She draped the bracelet over a stand she’d made herself and held it out for her to see. 

Lila looked at Marinette blankly, as if surprised to find her standing there. Her mouth opened a little, and she actually allowed an inch of space to open up between herself and her prey. Marinette noticed but tried not to show her satisfaction. She was conscious of Adrien turning his head to look at her, too, but she didn’t take her focus off the woman in front of her.

“Oh! Ah…” Lila’s posture and expression both softened, conveying apology. “I’m so sorry. How rude of me to ignore you like that.” One hand flew to her chest, presumably in embarrassment, but Marinette had seen that maneuver too many times before to believe it. She was simply trying to draw attention to her ‘assets.’ “I just saw my Adrien here, and everything else vanished! You know how it is when you’re in love,” Lila simpered, throwing an adoring look towards Adrien.

Adrien snorted. “We are not dating,” he said firmly, making eye contact with Marinette and gesturing between himself and Lila.

“Well… not officially,” Lila in a lowered tone, with a coy look and a wink.

“Not officially, and not at all,” Adrien clarified. “Not even a little bit.”

“That’s right!” Lila said brightly, smiling and winking again. “Not dating officially, or at all!” 

Yet, despite agreeing with Adrien, she tried to cozy up to him again. Adrien leaned away from her.

Marinette narrowed her eyes. This could be a clever plot to throw sand in the eyes of the paparazzi, but she hardly counted as paparazzi, and it was hard not to notice the thinly veiled disgust in Adrien’s eyes. 

“Oh, don’t worry,” she heard herself say. “I know all about that.”

----

For the second time in two days, Adrien was surprised to the point of being stunned by this woman. Most people, when confronted by Lila’s well practiced acting and lies, rolled over and believed every little thing out of her mouth. That was why he was so determined to make it clear to Miss Dupain-Cheng that there was nothing between him and Lila. Yet Lila, of course, had managed to make his firm declaration sound like nothing more than a cover up. She was trying to imply they were dating in secret, and he had been just about to deny that categorically when the woman he had a real interest in took charge of the conversation.

“Oh, don’t worry. I know all about that,” she said with a sweet smile. “I was trying to be discreet earlier, but now that you’ve shown you recognize me, I can be more open. Right, Adrien?”

Adrien quickly nodded, even though he had no idea what this woman was planning, and turned to see Lila’s reaction.

“Recognize you?” Lila asked in some hesitation. Adrien had to give her credit for acting. Anyone else would have put scorn in that question, trying to put this interloper in her place, but Lila didn’t know what she was up against, and was playing it safe with a sweeter tone.

“Of course!” MDC said (at some point he should really learn her first name). “Adrien talks about you all the time- you know, how professional you are at photoshoots, and how you play along like you really do like him. We’re both grateful, you know. In fact, why don’t I make you a gift of this bracelet? It’s the least I can do after you’ve selflessly taken so much of the heat off him.”

Adrien felt like proposing on the spot. He watched this woman whom he barely knew, whose night he had ruined, wrap the thin bracelet in tissue paper and produce a small velvet bag with her initials embroidered on it. She folded the tissue and put it inside the bag, drawing it shut, and then held it out to Lila with a kind smile. And all the while, Lila stood there, dumbfounded, with nothing to say for once. It was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever done for him.

When MDC held out the little pouch, Lila reached for it, inadvertently releasing his arm. Adrien flexed it subtly to shake off her touch.

“Well… thank you. Although... I’m not really sure what I’m thanking you for,” Lila said, actually sounding genuine for once in her surprise. MDC raised her eyebrows.

“You, covering for Adrien and me, of course,” she replied, with the warmest of smiles.

Lila choked. Then she whipped her head around to glare at Adrien. Adrien called on all his experience and produced the warmest of smiles, though he felt another little zing of surprise himself. But he was more than happy to roll with it. 

“You really are the best of friends,” he said, digging deep into his minimal store of fond memories for inspiration. “M and I…” he trailed off as he floundered for something to say to support the story she was building.

Once again MDC came to his rescue. “It’s so comforting to know Adrien has someone to ward off the opportunistic until my brand gets off the ground and we can go public. Naturally, neither of us want anyone thinking I’m only dating Adrien to get to his father, or his father’s company.”

“Right,” Adrien corroborated, sending MDC an even warmer- and far more genuine- smile. “M’s designs are amazing, and I want her to get the recognition and acclaim she deserves, instead of having people think Father is either using me to get her on his design team, or that she’s using me for the same purpose. Plus, you know how adamant Father is that I remain at least outwardly ‘available’ so my fans will stay happy and keep buying his clothes.”

Lila’s mouth tightened ominously, but once again, M (dang it, he really, really needed to learn her first name- maybe she had business cards around here somewhere?) defused her in the only possible way- she praised her.

“So really, thank you. I just can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. You know, most girls would totally take advantage of a situation like this, but… I know Adrien and I can trust you.” MDC smiled warmly and opened her arms, hugging Lila before she could do anything about it. 

“Think nothing of it,” Lila said breathlessly. Adrien knew her well enough to know that her social instincts were currently at war. She probably wanted to verbally cut M into bite sized chunks, but M was also a person currently offering the praise and adoration she craved. “Of course, I... you know I’d do anything for Adrien.”

“Well, I appreciate you, too,” MDC said, finally stepping back. “We’ll definitely have to get together some time. Oooh, maybe you can join us for dinner some time! It’ll look less suspicious if it’s a group of three, don’t you think? Besides,” M said, with a little wink, “sometimes it’s just as well to have a chaperone, you know?”

Adrien had to hide a huge grin as Lila choked for the second time and started coughing. “Are you okay?” he asked, faking concern. “And oh hey, isn’t that Claudio over there?” 

Adrien knew he was far from Lila’s only target, and the handsome Italian model was the perfect distraction.

“Oh yes, I think it is. Well, I guess I’ll just go over and say hello,” Lila said, once she recovered. “I know we were supposed to have lunch, Adrien, but I don’t think I can pass up the opportunity to speak my native language with someone instead.” She sighed, falling back into her usual persona. “I get so homesick sometimes.”

“You poor thing!” MDC cut in. “Yes, of course, go on! I’m sure Adrien would be only too happy to let you cancel at the last minute.”

“Well, it would look good for my cover, but I guess I’ll just have to make do with my actual girlfriend,” Adrien said, daring to move closer to MDC and reach out to gently touch her arm. She blinked before smiling up at him. Apparently this small display of affection was too much for Lila, though.

“Thank you for the bracelet,” she huffed and marched off, slowing and shifting to a swaying walk as she approached her alternative target. As she did, there was an almost imperceptible shift in the air...

@auyeahaugust

[yandere-society]

Hey, I was wondering if you’re still doing request if you could do one for a stalker Taehyung? IF NOT THATS OKAY, I REALLY LIKE YOUR WRITNG AS WELL!!!

admin / author: @an-ambivalent​ ♥

Warning: As this  contains yandere themes, the characters display behaviors that can be triggering or uncomfortable to read. Read at your own risk. This work is purely fiction. I do not believe any of the mentioned members would display any sort of this behaviour irl, nor do I condone this sort of behaviour.

Desires Of A Desperado 

It began with:

Persistency

For the most part, life had been mundane and repetitive for [Name]. From middle school to high school, and university it was buckle down, focus on studying, and occasionally, experience minimum amount of fun with friends. Even that, in itself happened so rarely that she remembered each fun time vividly, and clung onto that sole sparkle tightly. Of course, that was not to say that she did not ever experience other types of joy or sorrow – it was simply that most of it had dulled into haziness in her mind. From the time university had begun for her, and until now, everything sort of felt like a permanent routine that never changed; it was the same old anxiety, same type of aggravating friends who were only good to hang out with once in a while and just the same old consistency.

Despite knowing that she was living a life wealthier and more fortunate than many others, and being grateful about everything she had, a part of her could not help but crave for something more – something enticing, something new, something that would evoke sensations within her that she never felt before. Whether this craving was psychologically normal, or her inner demon of greed seeking more, she did not know. However, one certain thing was that after she did get her more, after life did bestow her with something new that enticed new types of anxieties and fears in her, she wished more than anything to have her mundane, boring consistency back again.

[Name] believed that being in her first relationship with someone as princely as Kim Taehyung was going to be the answer to all of her problems, and give her a life of fun – it was the biggest miscalculated mistake she had ever made.

Come to think of it, she never really expressed an interest in him. To some extent, it felt as if he had almost forced her into it?

Their story begins (well, it has already begun since the first word of this post–) on a dull, grey, and bleek cloudy day; the wind was utterly bone-chilling, and signs of the storm that had subsided only an hour ago were evident in the way a type of wet iciness cold fragmented itself in the air, and the heavy amount of rain droplets covered the surfaces they touched – roads, roofs, people’s clothes, and skin.  

Due to the weather being awful for outdoor purposes, no one was lingering around front of the campus where most of the premises was not sheltered, and the university’s bus shelter was situated. It was during the mid-semester break anyway, so that was a major contributing factor to the lack of absence of people, other than [Name].

As she had left her home that morning, the skies were clear with only a small number of white clouds suspended above. Basing her assumptions on that, and a small amount of her laziness of not being bothered to carry an umbrella or a rain jacket contributing it, [Name] had nothing except a thin transitioning season jacket on her to shield her from the manifesting cold, or if it were to rain again.

So, when a hooded figure packed in many layers of warm clothing joined her under the bus shelter, [Name] was a cold mess. She hugged herself as tightly as she could, with her hands shoved under her armpits for warmth, and teeth clattering together. Like she did with every stranger she encountered, [Name] ignored his presence, and never acknowledge him. She kept her eyes focused downwards on her lap, and forced herself to focus on her struggles to keep herself warm. It was just easier that way; everything was easier to deal with if she pretended it did not exist, and stayed in her own little bubble.

However, unfortunately for her, the hooded stranger did not plan for it to continue that way. He was seeking, she was perfect. He decided he was going to be the needle that popped her.

Taehyung observed [Name] with a heavy gaze, and licked his lips. Then, with a dry mouth, and his heart almost jumping out of his chest in eagerness, he spoke.

“Noona,” He greeted, and compared to how he was feeling, his voice seemed rather monotonous.

The somewhat familiarity of his tone, and of course, the fact that he was addressing her, caused [Name] to turn her head towards him.

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise.

“Taehyung,” [Name] responded, and her mouth was slightly ajar. As a result, her lips were parted slightly in the way that was sensually attractive. The way her skin lacked colour from its usual hue due to vasoconstriction, and her lips being somewhat blue, both because of the cold, enticed something in him.

She looked so vulnerable, and adorable – the way he imagined the various possibilities in which he could warm her in, he would be the one she would rely on – where it would just the two of them existing, and no one else –

“Have my tutoring sessions been helpful?” She asked, snapping him out of his mind, and Taehyung turned fully towards her.

For mere seconds before he answered, his gaze shifted down to her chest. With her jacket unzipped, water from the rain creating a wet area of darkness, her bra was visible. It would not need to be a big deal, but for Taehyung, it was. Such revelation of her sacred innocence and beauty that only he should see, was out there – visible to the entire world. Why? Why was it like that? Was his Noona a dirty little slut who craved intimacy attention more desperately than he had known? Had he missed out on something while he was researching her? That couldn’t be it… He watched her all the time, and sure, he had caught her touching herself a few times. But, (there was always a but), he had made sure that he would be her very first, for everything before he finalised her to be the one who he would mark. So, why? Why would she just reveal something that was meant for his eyes only to the entire world? Was she that dense? Or perhaps, she did this because she wanted him to notice her.

The last possible reason caused Taehyung’s cheeks to redden.

“Taehyung, hey Taehyung, are you okay?” [Name] said, and she settled her cold hand on his arm, and shook him slightly in order to make him return to reality.

The moment Taehyung snapped out of his thoughts, his eyes flickered to [Name]’s hand on him, and then to her face, and back to her hand again before he realised: she was touching him.

His lovely, lovely Noona was touching him. He did not like anyone touching him, but her – her touch was sensational, enthralling. Despite being cold, it radiated a certain warmth that seemed to be exactly like the one he had been craving his entire life. It was it, her touch was it – it was what he had been after this entire time.

The red on Taehyung’s cheeks spread further across his cheeks, and his gaze shifted back to [Name]. His irises were dilated with an intenseness that made [Name] uncomfortable. Especially, because he did not give her a response, and instead, let his eyes wander down to her chest once again. But this time, she noticed.

Her discomfort increased, and with red cheeks, she covered her chest. The sight of her bra shown through her wet shirt that had been Taehyung’s saving grace being blocked, caused him to snap his eyes towards her.

He no longer wore a love-struck expression. Instead, his eyes were narrowed into a glare of aggravation like something very precious had been stolen from him.

What was she playing at? Hard to get? If she did not want me to stare, then she should cover up. His trail of thought started, and then led to another.

He was her boyfriend, her guardian. So, she was obviously looking to him to help her, Taehyung decided.

Instantly, he unzipped the hoodie he was wearing on top of others, and forced it in [Name]’s hands. The [h/c] female barely received the time to respond, because she became preoccupied with wanting to take her grip out off Taehyung’s harsh one when he was forcing his jacket in her hands.

“That should have you covered for now. You can return it to me later, and don’t wash it. Thank me when I take you out on a date after our next tutoring session,” He stated simply, as he released her hands, and stood up. Then, he covered his head with the hood of his other jacket, turned away from [Name], and walked away without awaiting a response.

[Name]’s mouth was ajar and she sat still in shock, as she was still trying to process what had just happened.  Then, as another gust of cold wind swept past her and reminded her body of the cold she was suffering, she unwrinkled Taehyung’s warm jacket in her hands, and put it on her body.

Then came,

Pushing boundaries

Vintage ambient lighting hung from the ceiling of the cafe, and provided the interior of it with aesthetically pleasing orange hue lighting. Sleek and clean wooden tables, each with different number of chairs situated around it, had the ambient lighting reflecting on its’ surface. One would describe the interior aesthetic of the cafe as modern, with its obsidian granite walls and other surfaces, and large windows; acoustics of popular pop songs were played as faded and pleasing background music for its visitors.

In one of the furthest corners of the cafe, isolated from everyone else as much as they could be, [Name] and Taehyung beside each other. With some of the tables like theirs, rather than chairs, it was a sofa like arranged seating. Being a complete sucker for lavish comfort that [Name] was, she had immediately paced to that table to claim it as hers. And while there may have been somewhere else that Taehyung may have preferred to sit at, this time, he did not mind too much. The seating was still decent, and with the way it was arranged, it would allow him to be close to his Noona as much as possible. Plus, at this point, their relationship was only beginning. So, [Name] did not know him fully yet, and would not have known that Taehyung would rather be the one to choose where they sat, not her, or anyone else. He had not established his set of rules for her yet, and that meant she was not yet aware of the fact that Taehyung wanted to be in charge of everything. Therefore, this time, he would let it pass, and not punish her in anyway.

Rather than sitting opposite of her so he could face her like a normal person would, he chose to slide into the same side of the seat as her. He scooted until he was as close as he deemed appropriate for their first official date – which to be frank, judging from a normal person’s standard was still way too close; his arm and thigh rubbed against [Name]’s, and since the other side of her body was pushed against the wall beside her, she was left with no room to move back in. She was stuck in the awkward and uncomfortable position that Taehyung was forcing her to be in.

The smell of her cologne stimulated Taehyung’s odorant receptors, and he noted that today, she was wearing his second favourite perfume of her’s. It was a tad disappointing since he expected her to bring her best for him, but as mentioned before, he had not educated her about his regulations yet. So, any faults of this date, he would let them slide for now.

“Um, here’s your hoodie. Thanks for letting me borrow it the other day,” [Name] interjected, breaking him out of his train of thoughts.

In response to her voice, Taehyung turned his head towards her, and with an extra observant gaze, he looked at his hoodie that [Name] was holding out to him. He recalled that he had specifically, ordered her to not wash it when she would be returning it to him today. This was because he wanted her scent and the warmth of her body to linger in it so he could smell, and snuggle with it later. However, she had clearly disobeyed his direct order and washed it and ironed it; it was obvious because his hoodie was void off creases and any particular smells he could associate with [Name].

Even a washed hoodie would have been better than an ironed one, because then, Taehyung would still have been able to relish in his smell of [Name]’s laundry detergent. But with it being ironed, it smelled nothing except of degraded heat. And while her ironing skills were impressive, she had gone above and beyond with her actions to displease him. With a heavy heart, and his lips turned downwards in a frown, he wordlessly took his hoodie off her hands, and shoved it in his bag beside him. Then, he simply shifted his eyes to the menu laid before them, picked one up and began reading it, all the while, refusing to look at [Name], or give her a response.

The [h/c] female furrowed her eyebrows because she felt confused about Taehyung’s reaction.

Have I done something to displease him? Last time I checked, washing someone’s clothes, and ironing them before returning it was basic etiquette. She thought.

Strike One

Just as she opened her mouth and was about to apologize for whatever Taehyung had been upset about, she was cut off.

“[Name]! Hey!” A familiar voice called out to her, and [Name] turned her head towards the source of the sound. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw one of her friends from her class, walking up to her. She followed her form as she closed her table, until she ended up turning her head to the front again (towards the table), as her friend joined them, and sat opposite of her and Taehyung.

Strike Two

“Hey baby,” Vicki greeted, and gave [Name] a teasing smile that clearly indicated that she was joking. Her somewhat flirtatious words caused Taehyung’s head to shot upwards with wide eyes, and he stared at them with uncertain feelings of betrayal swimming in his eyes.

[Name] scoffed at Vicki. But, nonetheless, there was a smile etched on her face.

“What do you want?” [Name] asked.

Due to the forwardness of her question, Vicki feigned offense.

“Can’t I just talk to out of the goodness of my heart?” Vicki asked smiling. Simultaneously, her eyes drifted towards Taehyung next to you, who she felt an intense stare from. Her eyes widened, and as her eyes met his, there was a sudden moment of terrifying shivers that ran down her spine. It was more than obvious that she was not wanted, and while she was not the type to have cared about this sort of situation typically, in this instance, she felt compelled to apologize.

“Uh, are you two on a date?” She began, her eyes lingering on Taehyung, and then shifting to [Name].

“No.”

“Yes.”

Both of these answers left [Name]’s and Taehyung’s lips simultaneously, and the difference in their answers, caused them to look towards one another. [Name]’s eyes were widened in surprise, and Taehyung’s face had become rendered off any obvious emotions as he narrowed his eyes at her. Subsequently to this, a discomforting, and eerie silence surrounded them, as Taehyung was now directly a harsh glare towards [Name].

Vicki, being the catalyst of this situation, was now quick to think on her feet, and make her escape.

“I–, um, s-sorry for crashing your guys date. I’ll leave you two to it. I’ll talk to you later [Name],” Vicki spoke quickly, as she slid out of their table, and ran out of the cafe.

Strike Three 

[Name] attempted to utter a good-bye to Vicki. However, she never received the chance to because Taehyung had grabbed onto both of her wrists, and gripped them painfully tightly in order to keep her focus on him.

“You lied,” He hissed, and his grip on her tightened. “Why did you lie?! Are you ashamed of me?! Do you not love me?!”

[Name] winced in pain, and on natural reflex, she tried to pull her arms away from him. After multiple attempts, she realized that her efforts were useless. Then,  she took a few deep breaths in order to settle her nerves of fear which had risen due to Taehyung’s infliction of pain on her, and his harsh glare, and body language.

“I– I’m sorry I panicked. She said it so suddenly–” [Name] tried to answer, but she was interrupted when Taehyung laughed dryly at her response.

“You didn’t panic. You meant what you said, and you said it because you think I’m not good enough for you.”

“Taehyung, that’s– it’s not like that– I swear–” [Name] tried to defend.

“Then what is it like [Name] noona? If you really aren’t ashamed of me like you’re trying to say contradictory to your actions, then prove it. Prove to me that our relationship means something to you. Prove your commitment to me and show me that you aren’t a waste of my time,” Taehyung demanded, and the absurdity of his words made [Name] furrow her eyebrows.

An unsettling feeling formed in her stomach and it felt like she had sealed her doom with the words she spoke next.

She swallowed what thought to be excessive saliva in her mouth down her throat, her mouth felt dry.

“What do you want me to do for– for your a-approval?” She stammered, and instantly, like a child seeing their birthday presents, his face lit up.

It was then that [Name] realized the sudden lack of distance between them, and how close Taehyung had shifted himself to her.

His breath fanned her face, and sensually, he brushed his thumb against her bottom lip, with dangerous desires glinting mischiefly in his eyes.

“Make love to me.”

For her submission, he resorted to threats.

When she stopped reciprocating, it ended with aggression.

Black and blue marks, some pigmented with a hint of red due to the blood that was dried on them. Exhaustion that was way beyond what she was capable of handling, was hideously evident in her lackluster irises; the agony and the suffering was taking its toll on her entire being: emotionally, mentally, and physically. Her skin, that was blank canvas before he had decided to dictate over it, was now littered with wounds of various kinds.

[Name] found it difficult to breath as frantic panic housed itself in her nerves, and her bottom lip quivered. It took everything in her, and more, to not burst out into tears, and completely give up to whatever misery Taehyung wanted to submit her to. Perhaps, if her life was the only one at risk, she would have done exactly that. But right now, she couldn’t. She had to fight in whatever way she could in order to assure their survival.

“Taehyung please,” [Name] began begging, and her voice sounded completely broken. “Please don’t hurt him, he has nothing to do with this.”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes at her coldly. Momentarily, his eyes flickered to the unconscious little boy who he was holding at a knife point in his arms, and then switched his stare back to [Name] once more. He gritted his teeth in frustration, feeling as if this entire time, whatever lessons he had been trying to teach her were a waste of time.

“He has everything to do with this. He’s the only one left who continues to keep you distracted from me. I can’t have that, I WON’T allow that! You’re mine so all of your attention should be directed to me! I warned you before didn’t I? If you don’t do as I say and commit yourself fully and solely to me then I’m going to hurt the ones who prevent you from doing so. I warned you! I told you that I’ll kill your brother if you continue to talk to him. So that’s what I’m doing now, I’m getting rid off him so that we can be together – just us,” Taehyung said, and as he brought the tip of the knife closer to the boy’s neck, it began piercing his skin. Due to [Name]’s brother’s drugged and unconscious state, no response left his lips as Taehyung started to draw blood from his skin.

[Name]’s eyes widened impossibly wide.

“Taehyung NO PLEASE DON’T–”

Taehyung stabbed the knife fully into the boy’s throat.

“There’s no one to stand in our way anymore. Finally, you will be all mine.”

(A/N: hello, admin ambi here. I’d just like to say that I started this WIP weeks ago. However, I was unable to complete it until this point because of uni and work being up my ass. The title, the plot of this one-shot, and everything else completely changed to what I originally planned. Additionally, I haven’t written in ages so my writing is rusty. Due to all these mentioned reasons, this ended up being really messy, the plot is inconsistent and all over the place. I understand if its confusing too. I hope the next work I publish will be better than this. Also, I haven’t proof read some of this so I apologize for any errors. 

Thank you for reading. I hope you all have a lovely day / night whatever it is). 

[mediaeval-muse]

Book Review

The Leopard Prince. By Elizabeth Hoyt. New York: Warner Forever, 2007.

Rating: 2.5/5 stars

Genre: historical romance

Part of a Series? Yes, Princes #2

Summary: The one thing a lady must never do... Wealthy Lady Georgina Maitland doesn't want a husband, though she could use a good steward to run her estates. One look at Harry Pye, and Georgina knows she's not just dealing with a servant, but a man. is fall in love... Harry has known many aristocrats---including one particular nobleman who is his sworn enemy. But Harry has never met a beautiful lady so independent, uninhibited, and eager to be in his arms. with her servant. Still, it's impossible to conduct a discreet liaison when poisoned sheep, murdered villagers, and an enraged magistrate have the county in an uproar. The locals blame Harry for everything. Soon it's all Georgina can do to keep her head above water and Harry's out of the noose...without missing another night of love.

***Full review under the cut.***

***Mild spoiler under “Other” section.***

Content/Trigger Warnings: sexual content, drunkenness, parental abuse, references to torture, sexual coercion, and animal mutilation

Overview: After really enjoying The Raven Prince and not really enjoying Wicked Intentions, I figured I’d read something else in Hoyt’s Princes series to see if Wicked Intentions was a fluke for me. Turns out, it might be The Raven Prince that’s the fluke. I had hoped I’d get a romance that was focused on overcoming class obstacles, and there was a little of that. However, I couldn’t really get invested in the main mystery or in the protagonists’ relationship, as it seemed both were surface-level and without many stakes until about 200 pages into the book. Thus, this romance only gets 2 and a half stars from me, not because the romance was problematic, but because I just couldn’t connect with anything that was happening.

Writing: Hoyt’s prose is fine for the genre she’s writing in; it’s not full of poetic expressions - it’s simple and gets the point across fairly efficiently. I don’t think that’s a bad thing for romances, as the point isn’t to wow your reader with elaborate metaphors. Hoyt knows how to reach her audience, and I commend her for that.

However, I do think she relied a bit too much on expositional dialogue. Characters will have extended conversations that deliver a lot of information - about their pasts, about the setting, etc. - and while I think most of it was important, I soon grew tired of being told instead of shown. I do think some expositional dialogue can work well - for example, if a character exhibits odd behavior for a good part of the book then reveals the origins of that behavior, I think that works because it keeps the reader wondering. But so much is dumped on us in the first half of The Leopard Prince that I felt like exposition was being substituted for purposeful craft.

Moreover, I think Hoyt’s shoe-horning of the fairy tale themes worked just as poorly in The Leopard Prince as in The Raven Prince. Georgina, our heroine, would babble about fairy tales at seemingly random moments, and the themes of her tale did not parallel the events of the book as a whole, which made the whole tale feel out-of-place. It felt like a gimmick rather than an integral part of the story, and I wish Hoyt had done more to make the two narratives parallel one another.

Plot: Most of the plot revolves around a mystery. Someone has been poisoning the sheep on the estate next to Georgina’s, and most people think it’s Harry, our hero, because of his past with the owner, Lord Granville. On the surface, it seems like a good setting for a plot about class; Granville (and Georgina) have all the power, and servants and villagers (like Harry) have to fight against that power in ways that don’t bring aristocratic wrath down on the entire population.

Unfortunately, it seemed like the mystery was treated as an excuse to throw the two protagonists together for the first 200 pages. Harry and Georgina would go around questioning people about the sheep, and the scenes felt incredibly insubstantial. Though Hoyt tried to show the stakes of the mystery by saying that Harry would be arrested and villagers would starve if the culprit wasn’t caught, there wasn’t much to make me feel like these stakes were real. We don’t really get to know any characters who would be threatened with starvation, nor did I care enough about Harry to be concerned with whether or not he was arrested (more on that below). Personally, I think this book would have worked a lot better if Hoyt had just admitted that the mystery was a secondary interest and Georgina was merely using it as a way to exercise her power over a servant. At least then there could have been some growth and an exploration of class dynamics.

Around 200 pages, my interest piqued a little more due to the intensity of the mystery being heightened. It’s also around this time that discussions of class were beginning to happen more frequently, which I liked. I do wish more was done in the first 200 pages to emphasize class difference so that when these conversations happened, they felt more significant - maybe Harry’s way of going about solving the mystery is based in his knowledge of the lower class, while Georgina gains them access to people and knowledge that is reserved for the gentry. Maybe there’s pressure for Georgina to marry higher because of some family history or something. I think reforming the first 200 pages to show off class dynamics would have gone a long way in making the barriers to the relationship and the stakes of the mystery feel real.

Characters: Georgina, our heroine, has some admirable qualities (like prioritizing the well-being of her tenants over her personal income), but other than that, she’s fairly useless. She doesn’t bring much to the table in terms of solving the mystery (she doesn’t use her status to gain access to people) and she seems completely ignorant in everything from how to run an estate to how to seduce a man. I don’t mind a little naivete in some heroines, but Georgina had no ambitions other than to get Harry into her bed. It made her feel shallow.

Harry, our hero, is devoid of any personality that would have made him interesting. He’s gruff and not really afraid to defy conventionality, but that’s mostly it. Granted, he does have his quirks - he likes to carve little animals out of wood, but as nice as that is, it didn’t really show much about who he is as a character - it was just used so that there would be something tangible to use to frame Harry for the sheep killings (a little carved animal is found at every scene). I would have liked to see more of a connection between him and the poorer villagers so at least it would have felt like he had more of a reason to be invested in the mystery. Granted, I think he gets more interesting around page 200, when his relationships with Bennet (his half-brother) and Will (a kid he pseudo-adopts) brings out more of his admirable qualities, like loyalty to family.

Side characters are largely bland in that they don’t do much. Georgina’s sister, Violet, has her own woes to deal with, but her plot seems to be a distraction, and Violet doesn’t seem to undergo much independent growth. Lord Granville is a bit too overtly sexist to be believable, but at least he’s consistent. Georgina’s brothers seemed to be included just to throw some male authority around, when needed. I did like her brother, Tony, why seemed to care for his sisters’ emotional lives. I wish he was more involved throughout the book. Probably the most interesting character, for me, was Bennet, Granville’s second son who was conceived during an affair between the aristocrat and Harry’s mother. Bennet, at least, seemed to make use of his privilege by standing up to his father and being vocal about wishing he was raised by his mother. Will also had potential, but he seemed to be included to make plot points more convenient. I wish he had his own arc, however small.

Other: Try as I might, I couldn’t get invested in the romance between Georgina and Harry because I felt like I was expected to care about them and their relationship solely based on scenes where I was told they noticed each other’s bodies. None of their interactions felt like they were truly getting to know one another; even when they talked about their pasts or Georgina forced Harry to listen to her fairy tale, it’s very clear that Georgina still has power over Harry based on social rank and class, so it felt like she was entertaining herself more than anything. When they did get together, it felt like it was purely out of lust; there wasn’t much that made me think they enriched each other’s emotional lives, so I didn’t quite believe they were connecting beyond a surface level. Later, when class became a more pressing issue, I don’t think Hoyt showed that it was a significant barrier to their relationship, nor do I think the issue was resolved in a meaningful way - it just simply wasn’t as much as an issue because Georgina gets pregnant. I do think the class dynamics could have been done well if the book acknowledged Georgina’s power over Harry and more was done to portray them as intellectual (if not social) equals (I’m thinking along the lines of Jane Eyre, which also has an employer-employee relationship that ends up working). The mystery could have been a good way to do this, but alas, it seemed like Hoyt didn’t take advantage of that.

TL;DR: The Leopard Prince suffers from bland characters with no real chemistry between the hero and heroine. Moreover, the mystery had little urgency and though the discussion of class had potential, it wasn’t treated as a significant barrier to the relationship or a real lived experience.

[bang-to-the-tan]

Vessel Euphoria Chapter 2

► SciFi!AU

Thriller

Warnings: Major Character Death, Mind Control, Upsetting Themes Throughout, Alien Parasitism

↳ Summary: 6 months ago, the crew of the space vessel “Euphoria”—destined for a scientific study on a distant planet—dropped out of all communication. You and your fellow crewmates are inbound to reestablish communication with home base, but things are not as they seem and the fate of the mission is placed in grave danger.

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LOG DATE: 16.12.2212

Space Vessel Euphoria Model 2C-4S

Biology Specialist Kim Taehyung

 The camera refuses to focus for a moment after the title blinks out, filled with bright blue light and a dark expanse around what looks to be a dinner plate. A finger flits over the screen, blown-out around the edges and made huge by its proximity. The view shakes as Taehyung fiddles with the controls, tutting once in impatience.

“Ahh, why won’t this focus?” He hums, off-screen. You can hear his pout. Finally, he toggles something and the picture comes into clear view. It’s a planet, filmed from one of the window-ports in what looks like the recreation room. It’s huge, and now that you can see it properly, it’s beautiful, almost glowing in the velvet sky.

“There, gotcha.” Taehyung makes a small, triumphant noise. “See it?”

His hand reappears into frame, pointing this time, pressing against the thick sheet of fiber glass that separates his finger from the vacuum of space. “There she is. That’s where we’ve been going for the past five months. It’s right there.”

The camera shakes as he flips it back around, and his face fills the frame as he sets the device down gingerly on some surface nearby. He settles more comfortably in his chair, throwing a grin upwards at the port over his shoulder.

“This is Biology Specialist Kim Taehyung of the Vessel Euphoria,” he says, and although his words are professional, his brow is quirked just a little too solemnly to be serious. “The spacecraft which is now hovering a few hours from our new home. We’re due to be landing soon, which is why I didn’t make a report for this week.”

His eyebrows twitch upwards, lips tugging into a frank half-grin. “I got reprimanded for that. Apparently that’s bad. So! Let’s see. What’s new with biology…”

 You feel an answering smirk crawl across your own face at his exaggerated ponderous expression. In lieu of his actual study basis, Taehyung’s logs pre-landing were meant to be check-ins about the physical wellbeing of his crew—a fact that he carries with such disdain, it’s unreal. “Why would I need to worry about the crew?” He complains in one such log, about two and a half months into their voyage. “Have you seen Jungkook’s abs?”

Even though you don’t share his profession, you can share in his frustration. Being a communications expert doesn’t mean much when you’ve been stuck with the same three guys for months. After a while, you learn how to deal with their individual quirks and how to solve grievances with the kind of skill expected from their mothers. Sometimes, you miss being surprised by people.

“What’s new with biology…” he says again, casting a wide-eyed glance upwards, full lips moving into a pout. He blinks, and the way his eyes flit back to the camera incidentally makes your belly do a flop. That’s another thing Taehyung does in his logs. What can only be described as ‘bedroom eyes’. You don’t understand why. Who at central command is he flirting with? Or is it somehow an accident? The perfection in his timing, the way his tongue flits out briefly, the way he shifts back to stare almost predatorily through your screen, makes you doubtful.

“There’s nothing new with biology.” He says finally. He blinks again and rolls his eyes, leaning back more comfortably. The sultriness, the smooth player façade, evaporates instantly, and you’re left with a boy—bored and unsure of his place in the world. “Everyone in this crew is healthy as a horse.” He hesitates, staring off into some undetermined corner of the room.

“Our scans came back positive for life,” he begins anew, already catching an entirely separate train of thought, eyes distant. “Lots of life. Plant life especially. The runway that was put down before us is already starting to grow over. Jin—ah, Specialist Kim Seokjin—he says that if it was just a little bit more overgrown, we probably wouldn’t manage a secure landing. Which sounds weird to me.”

Taehyung looks back to the camera, eyebrows cocking conspiratorially.

“Obviously we made sure to lay down the scorcher really thick—what kind of plant life can regenerate that quickly?” He shifts. “I can’t wait to get my hands on some samples.”

He pauses. Moves again, straightens, as though suddenly remembering. “Oh! The—ah, the camera! I’ve sent in a request for a better camera. For biology purposes. Please see that it gets here soon.” He frowns, gaze drifting away once more. His voice is soft, thoughtful. “It’s already late, but…”

 Your comm crackles into static again, and you’re distracted from the rest of Taehyung’s log. His voice continues in the background.

“Requesting all hands to flight control immediately.” It’s Jimin. He sounds almost panicked. You grab it swiftly, already moving to stand.

“Communications, copy.”

The screen flickers and shuts down with a sharp noise when you turn it off. It only takes a moment to clamber through your quarters and make your way to the flight control room, stepping in a brisk walk.

“Maintenance copies.” Shockingly on-time. Even Yoongi won’t afford a quip when Jimin is obviously upset by something enough to call attention to it. The entire crew’s attention, no less.

The control room doors open with the fssh of pressurized air, leading into a tech head’s paradise of a room. Wall-to-wall communication grids and outlined maps of the ship’s systems, each lit with indicators. Buttons, levers, switches—every instance of navigation is managed by this room, sorted by purpose. You send them a cursory glance, wondering what it is that has your colleague so distressed, but they all look fine. Everything functional, working just as intended. You turn away with a look of confusion. Jimin is seated at his usual chair by the central navigation hub at the front of the room, frowning at the screen in front of him. Officer Jung hangs over the back of his chair, staring intently at the self-same monitor. The display is taken entirely up by…flowers? It’s an ocean of red and blue, waving gently in some alien breeze. Even from an aerial view, they stretch as far as the eye can see. Millions of them. It casts a weird pallor over the entire room, dances over everyone’s faces. It’s almost pretty.

“Preliminary landing drone,” Jimin explains. You swallow down the urge to remind him that you went through the same schooling he did. You know what the flashing symbol in the corner is—used to draw it on the corners of your navigational notes. You let him continue anyways. “That’s the flight path.”

You blink.

“What do you mean ‘that’s the flight path’?”

“I mean that is the flight path. Look at the coords.” He points a finger to the screen.

“Are they the wrong ones?”

“No, I didn’t put in the wrong ones.” He snaps. “That’s the landing strip.”

“No offense, but that can’t be the landing strip, Jimin.” Yoongi suddenly pipes up from behind you. “That isn’t a landing strip.”

“I checked the coordinates myself,” your Officer says quietly. “Twice.”

“There’s no way. The Euphoria sent the scorcher ahead before she landed—it would have cleared the runway before she hit.”

“Then it grew over.”

“In a year?”

“The crew logs,” you interrupt. “The crew logs from around their landing timeframe. All of them mention how quickly the local plant life grew back after being pruned.”

“We all saw the logs,” Yoongi argues back, “but there’s literally no way. After the kind of radial damage from the scorcher, even if it was just wide enough to safely land, and if no one maintained the runway, it would still take years for local plant life to regain even half the ground. Years. Multiple of them. I think the coords are wrong.”

Jimin spins in his chair, jumping to his feet.

“The coordinates are fine,” he spits, eyes wide. “I already told you, I know how to do my job.”

“Then the system is on the fritz.”

“I know how to maintain the system, too, thanks!”

“Guys—” you start, stepping forward between them, arms raised placatingly.

“Stand down, both of you,” Officer Jung says. Neither of them move. “Specialist Park, what are our options?”

“We have to reroute, sir,” Jimin replies, but he’s still glaring at Yoongi, who only returns his gaze levelly.

“Rerouting so close to the surface is dangerous, sir,” Yoongi snaps back. “Inertia will pull us off whatever course we chart this late in the landing.”

“Can we risk trying to land on the strip when it’s hidden like that? Is that an option, Specialist Park?”

“It would be driving blind. Unless we drove it completely straight, directly onto the strip, we risk hitting irregularities in the terrain. Causing damage to the ship and the environment. Possibly the main tower itself.”

Yoongi goes to open his mouth again, but you look to the captain.

“Permission to speak, sir.”

“Granted, thank you for asking, Not-Specialist Park.”

Yoongi looks away with a barely-hidden roll of his eyes and a smothered scoff.

“We don’t have contact with the Vessel Euphoria. If there is anything of importance to the mission hidden in the undergrowth—if there are crew members hidden in the undergrowth— we’re too liable to hit them.” You gesture to the screen. “It goes on for miles, sir. Considering our lack of communication…we can’t risk damaging Euphoria’s mission or crew.”

“Then our options?”

“We either stay course and risk damage to the area by trying to navigate the main landing strip or we reroute to the secondary station and risk damage to the ship from the shift in flight path.”

“How far away is the secondary station?”

“200 klicks, give or take.”

“That’s one hell of a divergence,” Yoongi butts in again. Hoseok ignores his lack of etiquette this time, too deep in thought. “At the rate we’re travelling, we’re absolutely gonna knock the terrain.”

“Can we get estimates for potential damage?”

“Not before we run out of range,” Jimin insists. “We don’t have more than ten minutes before we fall out of the range we need to charter a turn. This thing can’t turn on a dime, not at the speeds we’re going.”

“But we can get estimates for potential damage.”

“While we’re already on the path. Not before.”

“And the landing will be easier by the second tower.”

“The terrain is flat, has to be to establish a base. The radius is wide enough that even if we miss the landing strip, we can land,” you add. “Minimal damage to anything important.”

 Officer Jung hesitates. His tongue bulges the side of his cheek. He blinks, shakes his head to the side and finally looks back up, meeting all of your eyes.

“Specialist Park, reroute our path. Aim for the secondary tower but keep the coords loose. Worst case I want to be behind it, not through the damn thing.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Specialist Min. Damage estimates. Get to work on controlling it before we hit. Move vitals out of any vulnerable positions. I want to know what we’re going to need repairs on, and what we’ll need replaced. The secondary tower should have the supplies we need.”

“I disagree with this decision, sir.”

“I’m not risking running over the people we’ve come here to assist, Min. If we don’t have a visual and we don’t have contact with the primary hub, we have to assume it is unsafe to land there. You can disagree all you like. And finally—“

“Yes, sir,” you straighten.

“Send out another landing drone. I want it at the secondary tower as soon as possible. We’ll land there, restock, repair, refuel. From there, we’ll take a buggy and make our way out to the primary hub. Maximum an additional two days added to our itinerary. Do we understand?”

“Yes, sir.” All of you echo, but you are the only one of your crew that doesn’t sound bitter.

“I’m going to be getting in touch with central command and letting them know about the divergence. I want sound-off and status reports before we land. Scatter.”

 Yoongi turns a little too briskly on his heel to walk out, and your officer follows him after a pause and a glance about the room. Jimin glares scathing holes into Yoongi’s back.

Your mind is already racing you to the drone cabinet, reeling with procedures and potentials and logistics. It unlocks easily, swiftly, under your hand, the pre-set coordinates for the secondary tower just a tap away. With a klunk and another hiss of air, the doors close around the capsule, shunting it downwards violently, throwing it into space. You step back to better reach the panel on its side and navigate the screen to connect, giving it a brief countdown to warm up.

Three, two….

On ‘one’, you’ve connected. By ‘zero’, you’ve pulled up the pathfinding systems. While you’re there, you order the initial drone back to recharge.

“Thanks for taking my side,” Jimin pipes up. You hazard a glance at him over your shoulder. He’s still hunched over his station, eyes studying the screens with his brow furrowed and his lips pursed. Anyone who didn’t know him better would think he was incredibly engrossed in his difficult work. But you know that much of the actual math is done by the AI embedded in the controls. And you know him better. He could reroute in his sleep; even a turn like this.

“I wasn’t taking a side,” you reply, turning back to your screen. The drone’s speed is excellent, but not so good that you aren’t now trapped in here trying to maintain Jimin’s bruised ego. You love him, really, but sometimes he needs a delicate touch. “It’s a logical scenario and I was telling Officer Jung what logical course of action I suggest we take. There aren’t life support systems on the secondary hub, so there isn’t liable to be any crew members—just in case we can’t navigate those plant things.”

“I can’t believe Yoongi would rather believe that I put in the wrong coordinates.”

You repress the urge to sigh.

“Jimin…”

“We’ve been doing this for years. He knows I wouldn’t make a rookie mistake like that.”

“Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Not me.”

Despite yourself, you cast another look at him. He’s got his head propped up in one hand, clutching at his hair, still frowning downwards, but distantly. The lights and symbols spinning beneath him bathe his profile in greens and blues.

“Not us.” He adds, quiet. “You know I try so hard to keep up with everyone.”

“Jimin,” you interrupt, before he has the chance to spiral out of control with any continuation of that thought, “You aren’t ‘keeping up’ with anyone. You were second in your entire class.”

You spare a glance at the drone’s vitals before turning away and going to stand by your crewmate, who now looks like he’s about to start melting into the console in a puddle of despair and self-deprecation. When you put a comforting hand on his shoulder, he turns his head away.

“He was just trying to look for an explanation. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t have faith in you. You’re a fantastic navigations specialist, Jimin. He knows that. We all do.”  

There’s a pause.

His fingers creep up over his shoulder, brushing yours.

“Sure. Thanks.” He murmurs. You almost can’t hear him.  

“Of course. What am I here for, anyways?”

“The mango shakes. Can’t get enough of them.”

You shove at him, feeling your heart lighten at the mischievous grin curling his lips when he jolts forward. “Fuck you, strawberry hog. I’ll get you, my pretty. And your delicious shakes, too.”

He snorts at that, and the drone pings to get your attention. When you return to it, you pull up the camera and squint at the grainy texture of the video stream. You frown.

“It might have been a better idea than you thought, anyways,” you say.

“What do you mean?” “There’s just enough burnt away for the ship to land, not far from the hub itself.”

“What?”

You hear a scuffle as he rises, and then he’s at your shoulder, peering forward.

The same field, waving in the breeze, of bright blue and red flowers, stretching off into the distance. But there, in the corner of the screen, sits the dome of the secondary communications hub. The towers themselves rise up just behind it, framed against an almost perfectly flat horizon. And in the foreground, entire sections of what looks like char. Burnt up, shrivelled, blasted away. The land has gone flat and sallow, bare enough for a safe landing, so long as you timed it just right.

“…The scorcher?” you hum, brow furrowing.

“No. No, the scorcher didn’t do this. Look at the edges. There’s no pattern.” Jimin’s finger rises to press against the monitor. “This was done by a person”

“What…? How?” “I have no fucking idea.”

“Somebody on the Euphoria had…what, a flamethrower…?”

“Hmm…Actually, I tried to acquisition firearms before we left.”

Your head tilts to better give him a disapproving look.

“You never know,” he insists, wide-eyed. “But anyways, they said it was

absolutely a no-go. The Euphoria’s mission is study-oriented, and none of the initial scans came back with any life that couldn’t be taken out with a tazer. Worst-case.”

“So you’re saying you think someone built? A flamethrower??”

“Could have. Disassembled the scorcher, repurposed it?”

“Why? Why go through the effort?”

 He frowns deeper, goes back to studying the screen. He taps against it with one delicate fingertip and you allow him to parse the menus and commands without any argument—even though technically your officer had assigned that particular task to you. After Yoongi’s comment, Jimin will be doing his best to excel in everything he touches from here on out. Best to let him get the worst of it out on small stuff, like the drone. You can’t imagine what he’ll be like once you’re actually in front of the Officer Kim Namjoon.

“Look.” He gestures again, and you follow the motion. “It’s a trail. You can see where the flowers have grown over.”

It does look that way. A big, jagged shape burnt around the front of the hub, tapering off into lighter, newer, younger vegetation to the west.

“Bet you that leads to the primary station.” He says in a hush.

“I’d take that bet.”

He meets your eye again.

“Another route to the secondary tower?”

“Considering how quickly the entire landing strip was recovered, that means it’s recent.”

“Before the communication breakdown, even, do you think?”

“Maybe.”

“…Is that a good or a bad thing?”

You shake your head, still searching the monitor.

 “I don’t know.”

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[clarkgriffon]

An Overly Long Analysis of Harper McIntyre that No One Asked For

So... I love Harper McIntyre. You all might be aware, if you know I attempted giffing every scene she has been in. And I just had the sudden urge to express why in a bunch of word vomit. Harper is one of the few side characters that The 100 really has excelled with. And The 100 does have a good amount of interesting side characters, but I think with the amount of characters they have, it’s hit and miss. And I mean really side characters, not mains who kind of feel like side characters, such as Jasper and Monty. But really side characters.

Some side characters are just sort of there, around all the time, but never really developed, ala Jackson. Some kind of just feel like a plot device, ala Gaia in S4, or Gustus/Titus in S2/3. But sometimes, The 100 hits the nail on the head with a side character, and I feel like Harper is one of those, alongside Miller, Roan, Luna, and Indra. (If you’re wondering why I didn’t list Emori- even though Luisa isn’t technically maincast, Emori has had enough screentime she’s truly felt like a main to me since S3.)

But back to Harper. In Season 1, she’s nothing remarkable, and I don’t expect her to be. There are a lot of delinquents, that’s the whole premise of S1, and she’s one of them. However, she does stand out from the others, because unlike say Mbege or Monroe, she does have a further purpose: she’s there to showcase Jasper’s change. That’s her role in 1x10, and it continues to follow her into S2.

In Season 2, Harper gets a boost in screentime because as soon as Clarke leaves the Mountain, Jasper and Monty become the main characters of the Mountain storyline, and in turn, Miller and Harper get boosted to Jasper and Monty’s slots. Harper and Miller in Season 2 are to Jasper and Monty in Season 1. Whenever we look into the Mountain, we’re focused on either Jasper, Monty, or the two of them convening with Harper and Miller. Harper undergoes a lot of trauma this season- she’s the first one abducted to be drilled. But this does lead to another shift. Though she does mirror S1 a lot in that her screen time is often centered around Jasper, her relationships grow to, you guessed it, Miller and Monty, which in turns foreshadows her relationships in Season 3. We get the beginnings of Monty and Harper’s relationship, though small, in them being the first two abducted together. Even at the end of Season 2, Harper’s last appearances still focus on Jasper, but we’re about to see that change in Season 3.

In Season 3, we finally get Harper breaking away from the Jasper storyline. I’ve always had a hard time picking between S3 Harper and S4 Harper for my favorite, and I used to say S4, but I think right now, my opinion is that S3 Harper is the best Harper season. She comes back from Mount Weather with all this trauma, as mentioned, and instead of let it feed her fear, she uses it to fight for justice. The Pike storyline revolves a lot around fear and being scared of the “other,” which is the theme in The 100 a lot. But in S2, Harper was the other. Being drilled in Mount Weather for bone marrow alongside the grounders because to Mount Weather, they were the outsiders, the other, and Harper won’t let that injustice happen to anybody else. 

At the end of 3x04, Harper yields to Bellamy when he gives her and Monroe a line alongs the lines of “I’ve never done you wrong before, trust me.” And then the massacre happens, and that’s when Harper really turns around. She joins the Rebel Squad with Kane and Miller. That S2 development, of course, flaring here as we see her and Miller bond. And much like S2, she’s boosted due to the fact that Bellamy and Monty are on Pike’s side; they need people to oppose that, so she and Miller get another season of good screentime. 

Although I love Marper in S2, I do believe it was only intentionally romantic from the beginning of S3 on the writers’ parts. And it’s foreshadowed well, too. We see the counterpart in Miller/Bryan and Harper/Monty, where the people they care about most are on the other side. There’s a major moment where Harper sasses, “Does your mom know you’re here, Monty?” and later in that episode, Monty recognizes her voice on the radio, but doesn’t rat her out. So, as sudden as their relationship feels in 3B, it’s also not a surprise at all.

In Season 4, we see Harper undergo her big, emotional struggle in leaving the man in the rain, and dealing with depression as the end of the world nears. I will say, I think the motivation here is a little weak and forced, and I’m not sure this storyline was originally written for her (I think it was written for Bryan). But Chelsey plays it beautifully, and it does build on all her past experience, as I keep pointing out, Harper’s storylines always do. They build. S2 builds on S1, S3 builds on S2, and S4 build on everything before it. Harper remains so strong in S3, but she can’t fight anymore. There’s nothing to fight- the world is ending, and there’s nothing she can do. Harper’s character is consistently a do-er, a soldier, a spy, whatever she is, she’s working to overcome, and suddenly there’s an obstacle she can’t do anything about. Even though the expressed motivation in show is weak, I actually like how they handle Harper’s depression arc and particularly, how she overcomes it. How she decides that life is worth it, and this immensely foreshadows S5.

I’m a little peeved at S5, I’ll admit. It’s my least favorite season, and it’s definitely sparse on Harper content. She’s relegated to the background as “Monty’s Love Interest” for a lot of it, but in the moments she does get to shine, she’s persisting with that message that she finds in S4. There are things to live for, and then she goes a step further to- Let’s make life worth living. As we know from S3, Harper’s always lived by a moral code, and alongside Monty’s values in S5 and Jasper’s legacy, they decide to live life and to make life worth living by doing it on their own terms with their own values. I couldn’t have asked for a better end for Harper than the one she got. It was beautifully fitting and unlike most endings in The 100, happy, although bittersweet.

So, what was the point of all this? I don’t know. Maybe just that Harper is amazing and All That because her storyline makes sense, the motivations are developed and every part of her journey leads to the next part. Maybe the point is just that I fucking love Harper McIntyre. Either way, she’s an amazing character and all of this deserved to be said.

[sleepykittypaws]

A Welcome Home Christmas

Original Airdate: November 7, 2020 (Lifetime) Where to Watch?: Lifetime will re-air it in this, and future seasons; It’s also available to purchase on iTunes or to watch, with ads, for a limited time, on mylifetime.com (cable login, required)

It's been quite a week (this might not make sense to someone reading this years from now, but trust me on this), so I'm a bit behind on actually getting around to reviewing the holiday movies I've consumed in an effort to distract myself. (Will not be reviewing the wine and ice cream I used for the same purposes, but can attest the combo does have therapeutic value 😉🍷🍦)

My most recent watch was A Welcome Home Christmas, the first movie I've seen from Lifetime this season, and one of the many military-themed holiday movies that it's become de rigueur to debut around Veteran's Day. 

Not that I'm complaining about the subject matter, as I'm a sucker for a good cry, which these military movies almost always provide (see one of my faves from last season, Holiday for Heroes), and star Jana Kramer has been in quite a few very good Christmas movies for Lifetime, including last year's Christmas in Louisiana, which I liked a lot. 

So, I was definitely primed to love A Welcome Home Christmas, which even included a mysterious, possibly real Santa (another of my favorite tropes), so am sad to report it was fine, but fell a little flat for me.

Like several other movies I’ve seen this season, it seems disjointed; A series of vignettes more than a cohesive story. Watching it, I felt like I'd missed the first 15 or 20 minutes somehow. Is this due to filming limitations in the time of COVID? Would not shock me, as I know this particular movie did have to shut down multiple times for illness during filming, and I’m wondering if scenes got condensed or discarded to make up days.

So, we jump in with way too much exposition about how Kramer's Chloe is just an impossibly great person, because she volunteers a lot, but is also rarely at her job, which is a counsler for military vets. Also, she is an Army vet, discharged just a year ago, yet is seemingly baffled by how military time works? Say what now?

And why do they keep pointing out that people are honorably discharged? I come from a military family and that's…Not a thing. Everyone assumes you were honorably discharged unless you say otherwise. It's only dishonorable discharges that require a qualifier.

This movie had way too many of those sloppy moments, like some truly terrible, even in made-for-TV movie terms, fake snow. In the crew's defense, it was filmed in 100-degree August heat in Tennessee but, on the other hand, the Nashville area rarely sees snowfall before Christmas, so they didn't even actually need this half-hearted pretense. Especially if they were going to do it so poorly. They framed multiple shots with snow on the ground next to bright green, leaf-filled trees. (See just a few of the many examples below.)

Kramer had good chemistry with co-star Brandon Quinn, but to enjoy their flirty exchanges you've got to ignore the whole she's-his-paid-counsler can of worms. The entire romance is based on massive HIPPA violations, and is a lawsuit waiting to happen. Has the Army done away with its HR department?

So, basically, the entire central premise of the movie is an ethical nightmare. To the point where, when they finally kiss, I was sort of like, 'Yeah, someone is for sure getting fired over this.'

Charlene Tilton, as Jana and her even taller sister's impossibly tiny mother, is a treasure, and totally steals the show. She gets all the best lines and really sells them, too. Tilton’s expressions alone almost moved this into three-paw territory for me. 

Hands down, Tilton and Tim Reid as General Peter O'Toole (Tilton’s giggle fit at the name reveal is very cute) were my favorite parts of this. 1980s TV stars for the win! 

(In case you're not old like me, Tilton is best known for playing Lucy Ewing on the original Dallas and Reid was Venus Flytrap on WKRP in Cincinnati…And, no, I'm not so old that I actually watched either of those when they were on, but am old enough to be aware of their existence in the zeitgeist.)

Quinn's disgruntled vet character, Michael, enjoys chopping wood and pining for his Army dog. This is subtly conveyed with endless, bordering on creepy, lingering looks at every pooch that passes by, and roughly 50 lengthy close-ups of a single photo of Quinn with a German Shepherd that everyone in the movie seems to come across at some point.

So, counsler Chloe decides to trick dog-longing Michael into therapy by having him help her plan a Christmas event for an adorable moppet whose parents are both stationed abroad—and if you guess they make it home just in time for Christmas, and Michael gets his dog back…Yeah, you're exactly right. Because, of course they do!

This one really threw all the tropes at the wall to see what sticks: surprise military homecoming, dog-solider reunion and even a magic sparkly Santa who grants a little girl's wish. And, actually, that Santa was a really great one (I mean, just look at that twinkle!), so I admit I got some Christmas feels there. Also, c’mon, who doesn't love a good dog reunion?

Overall, this just seemed like it had all the makings (cast, concept, setting) of a far better Christmas movie, but the script, or maybe pandemic filming protocols, let them down. Not terrible, but while my eyes got a little damp during the doggo scene, I didn’t actually cry. And, as someone who frequently weeps at 30-second commercials, that’s saying something. 

Final Judgement: 2 Paws Up (More like 2-1/2, but my annual reminder that there are no half-paw kittens at Christmas, because that’s depressing.)

[dailyexo]

[NEWS] Baekhyun - 190310 Allure: “How EXO's Baekhyun Put His Identity into Privé Alliance”

"Allure's Devon Abelman sat down with the K-pop star during his first-ever solo appearance in the U.S to discuss how he defines beauty and style on his own terms.

BY DEVON ABELMAN

If I didn't know who Baekhyun was before meeting him in February, I would have thought he was just a random handsome dude I met at a nightclub while on vacation in Los Angeles.

As he politely tells a roving cater waiter offering us mini cannolis, "No thank you," I find myself believing that Baekhyun truly is that guy. I'm fully aware of his claim to fame, but he doesn't look or act the part. For starters, Baekhyun's lids aren't defined with expertly blended smoky eyes, and his lips aren't stained with a raspberry lip tint. Those tell-tale signs of a man with his job description are noticeably missing. Not a single stroke of eyeliner or fleck of glitter is in sight, either (honestly, to my dismay). A part of me hoped we'd bond over our eye makeup.

Makeup aside, Baekhyun carries himself with a quiet confidence that is so unassuming that he seems weirdly familiar and incredibly normal compared to the influencers, actors, and singers milling around us in the private VIP area. He never acts like he's better or more important than any other person there. Instead, he has the affability of the construction worker who waves to me every morning on my way to work rather than the larger-than-life bearing of a superstar from Seoul who effortlessly hits high notes while simultaneously performing powerful choreography. During our interview, I felt like I should ask him about his dog instead of his skin-care routine. If I didn't know who Baekhyun was, I would have wondered why I was interviewing him for Allure at all.

Baekhyun's wavy hair reminds me why this article exists on the Internet and not solely as a story I recount to my friends over text messages. Parted in the middle and styled to have a wet look, his auburn ends are relics of internationally beloved K-pop group EXO's most recent concept. His hair, for all intents and purposes, is the reason why we ended up sitting together in a cushy booth in the back corner of the dimly lit VIP section of a club on a Tuesday night. Trust me, neither of us frequent this fine L.A. establishment, located next to the Museum of Death. You won't even catch me in a club when I'm at home in Brooklyn. To put it bluntly, I'm only in this club talking to a nice guy because he's a member of EXO.

The EXO Connection

If this is your introduction to Baekhyun, please know that EXO is a Big Deal. Among their long list of awards and chart-topping accomplishments, the nine-member group performed at the 2018 Pyeongchang Olympics and has racked up more than 100 million views on each of their music videos on YouTube.

By extension, Baekhyun — full name Byun Baekhyun, age 26 — is a Big Deal, too. In addition to being a talented performer with 14.5 million Instagram followers, his bright dye jobs, innovative hairstyles, and experimental eye makeup have sparked beauty trends in K-pop since EXO debuted in 2012. You can, more or less, blame him for the influx of mullets and red-streaked black hair among other idols and thank him for the proliferation of red eye shadow. No matter how controversial or dramatic the looks Baekhyun tries are, he always pulls them off with ease and joviality.

Back to Baekhyun's auburn hair, though. Like most K-pop stars, he constantly undergoes vibrant dye jobs in hues, like pink, silver, and platinum, to fit the group's concepts. For "Love Shot," EXO's latest music video, he paired his newly burgundy hair with a glimmering eye shadow of the same shade and sooty black liner. Now his look is an extremely streamlined version of this.

His current lack of makeup may be a stark contrast from the bold eye looks he typically wears onstage and in music videos, but his skin is just as dewy as ever with the help of a nearly undetectable layer of foundation. His brows are probably lightly filled in, too, but I could be reaching. If anything, Baekhyun's wearing the standard amount of makeup for celebrity men. Just enough to amplify his glow, not enough to make a statement.

Baekhyun's glow is due in part to a consistent regimen; he lists toner, lotion, and moisturizer as the official order. But how many times do you wash your face, I ask, causing a couple of people in the human bubble of managers, publicists, and security guards surrounding us to laugh. Baekhyun ignores their snickers and answers, "Two," in English. (That's right, double cleansing is no laughing matter.) "If I wash my face too many times, I get skin troubles," he adds.

Baekhyun says he hasn't changed up the steps of his skin-care routine in L.A., or ramped up the number of sheet masks he uses. With EXO constantly traveling for concerts and events, "My skin gets used to the environment," he says. "So wherever I am, I use the same skin-care routine."

The Privé Connection

In hindsight, I should have anticipated Baekhyun would present himself in this low-key manner for his first-ever solo appearance in the U.S. In Privé campaigns, he's usually seen as he is now: natural, casual, effortlessly cool. His makeup is minimal; his natural-colored hair looks like all he did was run his hand through it; his outfits are sleek. With all this in mind, I ask him if he could dye his hair any color for the next campaign, what would it be.

How did I end up interviewing Baekhyun in a club, you ask? Let's go back to May 2018. Baekhyun made it onto Vogue's home page when he was named the co-creative director of streetwear brand Privé Alliance. Alongside Danyl Geneciran, the brand's CEO, Baekhyun helps create pieces that "put highlights on the basics," Baekhyun explains to me. He later reveals that he's surprised that almost all of his ideas have been executed.

My favorite part of Privé is how its offerings have a certain fluidity to them, much like Baekhyun's onstage persona. None of Privé's shirts, jackets, and bags are confined to overtly masculine or feminine silhouettes, and the same designs are available for men and women. "It's very important to have everyone be able to wear the clothes comfortably," Baekhyun explains. "Without any official communication, we agreed that [Privé Alliance] is going to be unisex."

With the newest Privé Alliance collection launching in April, the brand invited the public to join Baekhyun for a fashion presentation. The location: the very club we are sitting in. Although he doesn't act like he is (he kept to himself for most of the event), Baekhyun is undoubtedly the center of attention. He is the reason the floor below us is with filled with people from all over the world. Everyone's here to see Baekhyun, not the latest Privé pieces.

The Identity Connection

This is the only question Baekhyun doesn't answer concisely and without hesitation. "I don't know," he says in English. After taking a couple of seconds to think about it, he adds in Korean, "I love the black," adding "simple" in English.

This single word — simple — perfectly mirrors Baekhyun's personal aesthetic. "Basics, but with many little details," he explains. "It’s like you just came out of your house, but it’s still cool." In other words, he's the epitome of "Oh, this old thing? I just threw it on." I ask if he prefers to keep his hair and makeup natural and low-key, too, and he quickly replies, "yes, yes," in Korean.

The fact that Prive's aesthetic is similar to Baekhyun's is intentional. "I put my identity and myself into this collection," he tells me, echoing a line he shared when he made a brief appearance onstage before the fashion presentation commenced. The theme of the collection was his birth year, 1992, with zip-up corduroy jackets and hoodies adorned with '92 in big text.

Another adage he repeats throughout the night is, "Be brave. Be humble." The same words are printed all over the collared white satin shirt he's wearing, layered under a similar navy blue one. After the event, I saw people saying the look recalled EXO's "Lotto" era, back in 2016 when his hair was styled in a similar way and he wore collared shirts with several of the top buttons undone and silver necklaces. Onyx shadow was blended all over his lids back then, though. Fans likened Baekhyun's look that night to a mafia boss. (Seeing those tweets made me laugh, because his charm is far from disarming.) But for Baekhyun, his outfit is more a matter of comfort. "I like how silky it feels," he says. I go on to compare it to pajamas, which makes him chuckle.

Baekhyun doesn't ignore the fact that he typically presents himself with intricate details. Performing, he points out, is his go-to form of self-expression, outside of working with Privé. And let's be real, Baekhyun's performances, which ooze confidence and allure, wouldn't be the same without his stunning hair and makeup.

To borrow a word from Baekhyun, identity — and the way we present ourselves — isn't fixed. For example, the way my best friend describes my identity could be strikingly different from the way my sisters would. The way I dress when I'm going to get a bagel on a Saturday morning (track pants and a T-shirt) is different from how I dress for work (vintage floral dresses) or an event like this (a blue-and-white plaid suit). The way I do my colorful makeup is also evolving, too.

We often see K-pop stars in narrow, controlled situations, though, so we know and define them according to what we're able to see. I'm as guilty of this as the next person, i.e., assuming Baekeyun would show up with eyeliner as bold as my own. When you take a K-pop star out of a K-pop setting, a different side of them is revealed. They no longer have to adhere to a group aesthetic, just their own. We get a glimpse of Baekhyun's at the airport and in the selfies he posts on Instagram, but Privé Alliance has given him a platform to truly show his identity on his own terms.

At that club, I felt like I was being introduced to Baekhyun all over again. Back when I watched EXO's music video for "Monster" the first time, I saw him as part of a carefully crafted package; the second time, I saw him the way he sees himself."

Photo links: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Credit: Allure.