#someone so enraged by another they throw aside their life to end the other
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raynavan · 1 year ago
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Tw horror, plese read the tags carfully
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everseeking · 4 years ago
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Hi! Is it okay to ask for a Levi smutxfluff where he's benched from injuring his leg but it's getting a lot better. His fem! S/o is part of his squad and he gets the report that she was in a life threatening situation but she made it safe and he's waiting for the scouts to return. He waits for them and doesn't know what to feel fjejfjs im sorry this is hella long!!! Also no manga spoilers/references please
 - hello !! thank you so much for requesting ! that’s totally okay and don’t apologize for the length, it helped me out having details :) there aren’t any manga spoilers or references, but there are season 2 spoilers in case anyone hasn’t finished it yet. i hope you enjoy and thank you again for requesting <3
relief
- levi ackerman x reader
- warnings: season two spoilers, nsfw contains smut; hand job, oral (giving), fingering, cream pie, slight overstimulation but not much, AFAB!reader
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once again, levi injured his damn leg.
after being temporarily handicapped from his leg injury when he initially fought the female titan, he made a personal vow to never let an injury like that happen to him again. it was a major setback and seriously hindered his abilities. but unfortunately, titans makes no promises.
it was during an expedition, of course, and things were taking a turn for the worst. levi was unaware that his squad would be needed on an expedition the next day, so he kept them up late the night before to polish their skills as much as possible. during the mission, it was clear they could barely keep their eyes open.
levi was extremely stressed out, worrying about his team as well as what he was going to say to erwin later when he yelled at the commander for such a late notice on the mission. for now, the captain had to make up for much of his team's slack. as much as the kids wanted to put up an argument when he flew in and stole their prey, they kept their mouths shut. there was no way they could’ve finished the job on their own and knew their protests weren't worth it, as it felt kind of wrong to argue with someone who was saving their lives.
it was brutal work since he too was bordering onto exhaustion, but levi pushed through and helped his team clean up the last hoard of titans. just when he thought he was in the clear, a titan came up on sasha and tried to grab her. if he had gone any slower to finding her, he wouldn’t have been able to save her. but thankfully, levi was able to use the last bit of his gas all at once to throw himself forward and push her out of the way.
he seriously couldn’t catch a break as this resulted in him getting himself caught in the titan's grip. his blades weren't drawn prior to being grabbed so cutting himself out was impossible. the giant had levi's entire lower half engulfed in its hand. if his second in command hadn’t been there he would have for sure been a goner.
it was y/n’s turn to play hero, as she flew in and swiftly sliced the titan's nape, freeing not only her captain but also her partner from definite doom.
levi wished he could say it was a clean save, but he couldn't deny the bone crunching he heard below him. they arrived back home in one piece with only levi's broken leg to report.
so not only had he injured his leg again, but it was worse than his sprained ankle from the forest. the captain was even more upset when the medics informed him that he had to be benched for six weeks. that meant no physical activity for six weeks. yes, that includes sex.
over the course of his healing, there were many times when he claimed to be okay so he could accompany his team on expeditions, only to be rushed back to bed by his colleagues. many people even urged y/n to nail down the door to her and levi’s shared room in order to keep him trapped in there. y/n laughed off the idea, not even considering it because she knew levi would only feel more tempted to break out. a few nails wouldn’t stop him. the only thing he could say he enjoyed about his time off was having y/n as his "personal nurse," when she wasn’t off with the rest of the team. she still had to stop things from getting too heated every now and then.
“doctor’s orders !” she’d always say as she stopped a heated make out session or after he had tried to pull her into his lap.
when it came to more domestic care, levi hated having her watch after him. he definitely appreciated it, but the last thing he wanted was to be a burden to her. he wasn’t just burdening her with his personal care, but also the burden of the entire team since she would be his replacement for the time being. many times he tried to wave off his partner and tell her he could manage on his own before he finally told her he didn’t want to have to rely on her. he was surprised when she brushed back the hair in front of his forehead to kiss his forehead, whispering that she wanted to take care of him and help him. 
finally, he had reached the sixth week and was ready to hit the sky again. the morning of the latest mission, y/n noticed levi had a bit of a pep in his step as he prepared to venture outside the walls for the first time in a few weeks. she giggled at his poor attempts to get excited since he wasn't the best at expressing his emotions, but she felt a little guilty since she didn't have the heart to tell him that he was once again sitting this one out.
hanji had pulled y/n aside the night before and broken the news to her. she explained that although his road to recovery had been going well, he needed to take one more week to ensure that he was completely healed. it hurt y/n’s heart a little bit to hear this. over the last few weeks she watched her partner practically counting down the days until his return, so she made sure to tell hanji that she wouldn't be the one breaking the news to him.
hanji also knew how restless her friend was and wasn't sure if she would comeback alive after telling him the news, so she waited until the last possible second to tell him. literally, word got around that it was time to make the final preparations before heading off when she pulled him aside and told him.
he was enraged to say the least. he grabbed the front of hanji's shirt and pulled her down to his level as he began to chew her out in front of everyone. the soldiers awkwardly shuffled past the two, definitely not wanting to get involved. it wasn't until y/n came and informed the two of them that it was time to go when he finally let go of her. hanji laughed nervously and decided to give the couple one last minute of alone time as she headed back to her squad.
there was a lot they wanted to say to each other, levi wanting to tell y/n to be careful and y/n wanting to apologize for not telling him sooner, but they both knew this wasn't the time for a conversation. y/n put on a determined face and told him that she would do her best to lead the team in his place, offering him a salute, then headed over to join the others.
levi was super bummed. he waited behind and watched as the horses left to make their way towards the outer walls before he sulked to himself and retreated back to his quarters to finish the less exciting side of his job; paperwork.
it had been a few hours since the cadets had left that morning, so the golden sunlight that was now pouring through levi's windows notified him that they should be back any minute now. he stood up from his small desk and stretched his back that had started to stiffen up from sitting in his chair for the last few hours. many nights had been spent sleeping in the same chair, but he swore it was more comfortable sleeping in it than doing paperwork it in.
he took a look around the room and saw the rays of sun illuminated the dust particles floating through the air. it annoyed him to say the least, as he had yet to find a way to clean the air. for now, he would settle for sweeping the room one last time. just as he was pulling a broom out of the closet, a hard knock came from his door.
"captain levi ?" a young soldier called from the other side. levi was slightly annoyed that he was being interrupted, but he managed to keep the ‘this better be important,’ thoughts to himself.
he placed the broom back in the closet and made his way to the door. upon opening it, he saw the distressed look on the soldier's face.
"what is it ?" levi pryed, not really sure what to expect at this point.
the soldier straightened up and cleared his throat. "the first group from today's expedition has arrived with a report. the rest of the scouts are on their way back now, but i was told to hand you the part of the report that regards the condition of your team." the boy held out the paper in his hand for his superior to take.
levi practically ripped the paper out of the soldier’s hand, causing him to flinch a little, but it was understandable. a million scenarios were playing through levi’s mind about what could have happened. he feared that once again he had lost his entire squad and had to start all over again. it was a pain he never wanted to live through again, especially since his lover was apart of his team this time.
his eyes quickly scanned the clearly hastily scribbled words, searching for words like death, killed, and eaten. the was almost at the end of the page when he realized he hadn’t heard anything terrible yet. eren ended up not needing the use his titan form, mikasa had another impressive kill streak, armin and connie were in a bit of a predicament but got out fine, and jean and sasha were safe too. the only one that had been yet to mentioned was y/n.
in an attempt to distract a group of titans from one of her fellow soldiers whose ODM gear was malfunctioning, y/n l/n used herself as bait. she was successful in saving the soldiers life, but one of the titans caught ahold of one of her gear’s cables and she was thrown to the ground. l/n was found unconscious by armin arlert and she is currently being watched until the group arrives and she can be transported to the infirmary for a full check up.
levi’s heart sank deeper and deeper into his stomach with every word he read. y/n was always putting others first regardless of how dangerous a situation was. she was selfless to a fault. he warned her many times that something like this would happen, but she never listened. her heart would never let her not help someone in need. it was one of the things he loved about her the most.
the awkward shuffling of the messenger soldier’s feet brought levi back to reality. before waving him off, levi asked if there was any more information than what was shared in the report, but he shook his head.
the soldier finally left, leaving levi frozen in the middle of his room. the report was too vague for him to know what to think or do. 
how high was she from the ground when she fell ? did she just get knocked out ? or did she hit her head hard enough to cause internal bleeding ? 
the thought that her current condition could be much different from the report also crossed his mind. y/n was stated to only be unconscious, but she could have gotten worse since. 
there’s no point in pondering the what-ifs, he reminded himself, but it was easier said than done. he moved over to his neatly tucked bed and sat down on the edge of it, resting his elbows on his knees and holding his head in his hands.
he didn’t know what he would do if he lost her. what the team would do if they lost her. before he could fall back into his dark thoughts about his partner’s condition, a large commotion came from outside alerting him that the cadets were back.
with a small stumble as he jumped up from his bed, levi sprinted out of his room to go outside. there were already a lot of people crowding around the carts and horses, so he did his best to slip past them all. the people in the way that had managed to see his face instantly moved aside, not wanting to anger the captain after seeing the intense look on his face.
after making his way to the front of the crowd, levi scanned the area in search of y/n, having no luck until he heard a familiar voice yelling ‘captain.’
his eyes met with eren’s who was waving frantically in order to flag down his captain who was now quickly making his way over to the group.
“she’s alright,” the titan shifter called out over the other voices in the crowd. levi didn’t want to get his hopes up as he wasn’t sure how accurate eren’s words were, but regardless, a wave of relief came over him.
as he pulled up next to the cart they were sitting in, levi also met armin, who nodded in agreement with what eren was saying. the blond opened his mouth to add onto what his friend had said, when he was interrupted.
“where’s levi ?”
hearing his partner’s voice almost brought levi to his knees. the weight of not knowing her condition finally fell off his shoulders. he peered over the side of the cart to see y/n laying on the ground on her back with a white bandage wrapped around her entire head. her face instantly lit up when she saw him.
the girl jumped up and threw herself onto the captain, wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight hug. if this were any other situation he would’ve told her to get off of him, but right now he allowed himself to wrap one arm around her back and placed his free hand on the back of her head, pulling her closer to him.
levi couldnt bring himself to scold her for being too rough while she was injured. instead, he sighed and hugged her tighter.
“thank god you’re okay,” he breathed out against her hair. he felt her smile widen as she nuzzled her head deeper into the crook of his neck.
after the two finally pulled apart from each other, levi immediately took y/n to the infirmary where they confirmed she only had a minor concussion.
the moment they entered their shared room for the night, levi pulled y/n in for another hug. she graciously accepted, wrapping her tired arms around his middle.
he pulled back and brought up a hand to brush her hair away from her face so he could place a soft kiss on her forehead where her bandages previously were.
y/n placed her hands on levi’s cheeks and gently pulled his face down so she could plant a kiss on his lips. levi eagerly kissed back and began taking careful steps backwards to lead her onto the bed.
they now sat on the edge of the bed and kiss turned more passionate, with y/n opening her mouth to swipe her tongue across levi's lower lip asking for entrance into his mouth. he eagerly accepted, greeting her tongue with his own as they made out.
without breaking the kiss, y/n carefully straddled herself onto levi's lap taking extra care to not put too much pressure on his healing leg. however, her plans became a lost cause when he grabbed her hips to meet his. her eyes widened as she felt his bulge between her legs. tension built up in her core as she instinctively rolled her hips forward to grind herself against his clothed crotch.
it was levi's turn for his eyes to widen as a wave of pleasure swept across his body. he broke the kiss to meet his partner's lustful eyes as she recoiled her hips back once again to bring herself more pleasure. he sharply inhaled before kissing her deeply one last time before throwing her off his lap.
y/n flopped down on the bed next to him, laughing, but she took the hint and started undressing herself like he did. once their clothes were in a messy heap on the floor, levi took a moment to pull her head close to him so he could kiss the side of it, worried he had only made her concussion worse when he threw her off of him moments ago.
“are you okay ?” he pressed, lips still against her head.
y/n laughed and placed her hand on top of his that was on the side of her head. “i told you a million times that im okay, my love.”
“and i’ll ask you a million more times just to be sure,” he replied, pulling back.
as he moved away, y/n grabbed the sides of his face and pulled him in for another deep kiss. one of the captain's hands placed itself on the small of her back to pull her closer while the other felt around behind her looking for the bed. once he gripped the sheets, he brought the hand up to the other side of her back and took a step to turn his own back towards the bed, then fell onto it, pulling y/n down with him so she would land on top of him.
he cringed as he remembered her concussion and quickly asked if she was okay, only for her to laugh once again and reassure him she was fine. before levi could ask anymore questions or make anymore quips, she returned her lips to his. their tongues explored each other’s mouths, searching every inch of each other’s caverns.
she pulled her lips away from his to smile at him while she slowed her breathing. the sight alone was enough to make levi fall in love all over again. her messy h/c hair fell perfectly, combined with her eyes filled with pure adoration from looking at him and the goofy smile that was on her lips. no one had ever looked at him the way she had. his eyes tore apart from hers and trailed down to see the rest of her body.
"you're absolutely perfect," he whispered, just loud enough for y/n to hear as he took in every curve on her body. levi thanked the stars that the moon was bright enough tonight to let him see the soft pink hue that spread across her cheeks as he complimented her.
she leaned in close to his ear and whispered "as are you," back to him. each movement of her lips tickled against his earlobe. it sent a shiver down his spine. y/n shifted her body weight so that she was now sitting up and straddling his lap once again. her right hand met his strong chest, then dragging down to his toned abdomen followed by his lower stomach.
y/n scooted back so she could get a full view of  his hardened cock. her index finger traced a straight line from the base of his member to the tip. it took a lot of self control for levi keep himself from shuddering as her nail softly grazed the side of his cock.
levi propped himself up with his elbows. to get a good look at what she was doing. he watched as her hand went back to the base of his shaft and her fingers wrapped around it. she started slowly pumping him, resulting in his breaths becoming deeper. he closed his eyes for a mere second when a new wave of pleasure swept across him that made his eyes roll back in his head.
y/n had lowered her face and began sucking on just the head of his cock while her hand's pace quickened. her cheeks hollowed out from the pressure of sucking his tip and he fisted one of his hands into her hair. he didn't push her head down, rather, he gripped it to stimulate pleasure for her as well as to let her know he was enjoying what she was doing.
she hummed against him and started to incorporate her tongue as she swirled it around his head, which sent yet another wave of pleasure throughout his body. when y/n added her free hand to the mix, using it to fondle his balls, the stimulation almost became too much for levi to stand. he used the fist in her hair to pull her off him and up to his face.
a small dribble of spit leaked out of the corner of her mouth. before y/n had a chance to wipe it, levi was pulling her forward and swiping his tongue against her mouth to lick it off, then planted open mouth kisses down her face and up her jawline until he reached her neck where began to suck her skin and create a few hickeys. she slowly leaned her head back to give him better access to her neck.
she said a silent thank you when she realized the marks were placed just low enough to be hidden by the collar of her white shirt so no one would know a thing the next day. everyone already freaked out enough when they found out y/n and levi were a couple.
without removing his lips from her neck, levi lifted y/n from her hips then moved one of his hands to feel the folds of her pussy. she was soaking wet, so all her had to do was cover his index and middle fingers with his slick before he slowly slid them both inside of her. a low moan came from y/n’s parted lips as levi’s fingers went deeper inside of her. 
he pumped them slowly, reaching deeper each time until he was knuckles deep into her core. when he curled his fingers to hit her g-spot, she had had enough.
“inside of me...i need you inside of me levi,” y/n moaned, digging her nails into his back. levi laughed to himself at how desperate his lover had become from just his fingers. it was clear to him that he needed to avoid any injuries that could put a halt to his sex life at all costs from now on. 
he pulled his wet fingers out of her and gripped his cock, making sure to cover it with her juices that were still on his fingers so it would be easier to push inside of her, then positioned himself with her entrance. y/n moaned once again as his tip rubbed against her folds before sliding into her. she sharply inhaled as his head entered her. levi gave her a moment to signal that she was ready before thrusting deeper inside of her. after a few weeks of abstinence, y/n needed a bit longer to get adjusted.
after about a minute, levi was able to thrust his hips up and push his full length inside of her as she dug her nails deeper into his back. he knew it was payback for him marking up her neck when she broke her hazy gaze to give him a smirk. just for that, he pulled himself almost completely out of her, then thrusted balls deep back into her, hard.
y/n’s hand flew off her partner’s back and onto her mouth to stifle the loud moan that almost escaped. she shot him a fake glare and he returned the smirk she had given him earlier. levi wanted nothing more than to hear her call out his name loudly, but it wasn’t worth the harassment he’d face from his colleagues the next day.
after she had composed herself, y/n removed her hand from her mouth and placed it on her partner’s bicep. he stopped thrusting into her, knowing she wanted to take over. just like he had thought, y/n started to rock her hips so she was grinding on him much like she had done whilst they were still clothed.
the pleasure was much more enjoyable now that he was inside her. each time she rolled her hips forward, his cock hit her cervix. now it was levi’s turn to stifle a moan, as y/n road him into ecstasy. his grip on her hips increased which most definitely left yet another mark on her skin.
the fact that y/n was biting her lower lip also didn’t go unnoticed by the captain. whenever she did this it was a sure fire way of telling him she was close to her release. he wrapped one arm around her back and in a swift motion flippped both of them over so that y/n was on her back and he was hovering over her.
she let out a small squeal at his sudden shift and wanted to scold him for not being careful with his leg, but her words were lost as he snapped his hips against hers. she once again went to cover her mouth to avoid her moans escaping, but levi’s hands interlocking with her own prevented her from doing so. he gave both her hands a quick squeeze before going back to thrusting himself into her. her eyes stayed trained on his, while his watched the way she engulfed his cock. it drove him so crazy she could feel him twitch inside of her. he high was near, but there was no way he was going to let himself finish before his partner.
he focused more on his thrusts, moving his hips better so he would hit her g-spot harder with each thrust. the way he rolled his hips to meet her core finally sent her over the edge. he kissed her deeply as she moaned against his lips while he continued to ride out her climax. even after she had come down from her high, levi kept thrusting into her, chasing his own release.
the overstimulation was enough to send her over the edge again, this time being joined by his own release. he let out a low grunt as he finished inside of her painting her inner walls with his cum.
levi pumped into y/n three more times before he stopped and fell onto her chest, not even bothering to pull out. after six weeks of no sex, their orgasms were both super intense.
“maybe we should wait another six weeks before our next round if it’s gonna be that good again,” y/n teased.
levi’s head shot up so he could see her face. y/n bust out laughing when he finally realized she was kidding. levi rolled his eyes and pushed himself off her so he could slide out of her.
the mix of their juices that escaped her as he unsheathed his cock from her made his member twitch back to life, becoming hard again.
“or i guess we could go again right now,” y/n added after sitting up herself and seeing his hard on.
levi smiled and pushed her back down gently then hovered over top of her once again.
“that’s more like it.”
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raggaraddy · 3 years ago
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your writing is amazing 🥺
could i ask for a yoongi version of the reader being shot because of them? your other ones are so good!!!
Family affairs
@dramaclub-thin
A/N: Thank you, sweetheart! I'm glad you're enjoying the series. This one has a bit of OT7 and I hope you like it too. 💜💜💜
If anyone else wants to request, you can here.
Other parts:
Namjoon
Jimin
Taehyung
Jungkook
Summary: You'd tried so hard to hide your relationship with Yoongi from your father. You knew when he found you were dating someone from a rival club that he'd kill you. You just didn't think it would be literal.
Trigger warnings: Violence, Filicide, Blood, gun usage.
Yoongi
Mafia! Yoongi
Mafia! BTS
"Yes Daddy," you poke your head through the door to his office with a little knock. Normally you would never bother your father while he was working, but one of your brothers came to your room to let you know he was calling for you.
"Ah, Darling. Yes, have a seat." He stands up from his desk, gesturing to the chair ahead of him. "I need your advice on something."
For a moment you get a flutter in your stomach. He never asks you for anything. Your his pretty princess on a pedestal. And he never involves you in anything that a woman wouldn't have been responsible for in the 1950s.
"Of course," you smile, shifting comfortably.
"I know you're tech-savvy, so maybe you can explain this to me. I had some photos printed, but I think there must be something wrong with the camera. Have a look,"
Reaching into his desk drawer as he speaks he pulls out a stack of A4 photos. As he lays them out your eyes jump straight back up at him. Checking for his reaction, a sharp pang of absolute fear hitting you. They're pictures of you and Yoongi, his arm around you when you were coming out of the Bangtan clubhouse.
"I know the camera has to be faulty, because that" he tapes your image, "looks like you. And I know my one and only daughter wouldn't be socializing with those Bulletproof scum."
"Daddy, I-I," you stutter with no idea what to say.
You thought you were so clever, so careful that there was no way he'd ever find out. Even when Yoongi would worry about you possibly being caught you would shrug it off. Your love was invincible and meant to be, and you were smart. No chance your family would ever know you're with Yoongi, and no way his family would ever know you were from a rival gang. As far as they knew, you were just Y/n Brown, the hairdresser from one district over.
But clearly, you weren't careful or clever enough.
Your stark silence is loud enough for your father and he nods a sombre confirmation. "How long Y/n?" He questions.
"Daddy, I don't-"
"How long?!" He's quick to anger, making you jump.
"A few months," you lie, your eyes dropping to your lap. Telling him it's been closer to 18 months is only going to enrage him further.
Slumping back into his office chair he lets out a heavy sigh.
"You think you raise your kids right. To know loyalty and family." He derides looking at you fiercely. "But then you find out your own daughter will open her legs for any cretin. In complete disregard of everything she should know."
You knew it would be awful if he ever found out, you know he is a terrifying dangerous man, but hearing your father's derogatory comments are harder to take than you ever expected.
"What did you tell them?" He sits forward. His demeanour, his expression going from disappointed father to cold mafioso.
Your mouth going dry, you swallow hard. Shaking your head softly. "Nothing."
"Bullshit!" He yells. "You expect me to believe they just let the daughter of Bastille get all cosy with one of the 7 without you giving up something."
This is so bad. You knew your parents, your brothers, the entire Bastille would disown you for this, but they'll actually kill you if they think you've sold them out.
"No. I didn't tell them anything. None of them knows who I am. Only Yoongi knows. And I didn't tell him shit. You know I wouldn't." You defend yourself trying to reign in your distress.
"Well, there's a lot of things I wouldn't think a daughter of mine could do." His voice is so detached. He's stopped looking at you. This is so so bad.
"Dad. I didn't say anything." You restate, fighting to convince him. Feeling like you're trying to prove the case for your own life. "I know the rules. Don't talk to anyone. Not cops. Not friends or enemies." You repeat the words that had been drilled in your entire childhood. You knew nothing, you saw nothing. Those are the rules.
"I don't believe you." He says bitterly.
Your hands are trembling, you're panting heavily. You know being with a rival club member is a stupid thing, but the clubs are in a truce.  And despite your father's opinion, you would never be so stupid as to actually say anything. And Yoongi would never let you, even if you decided to. You did one thing wrong, but you made sure you did everything else right.
Leaning back, he opens his phone book. Searching for a number.
"Dad," You plead for his attention. Raising the phone to his ear he shushes you, placing a finger over his mouth.
You have no idea what to do. You've seen him decimate people for so much less than what he's accusing you of. You don't know how to prove your innocence.
The call answers and you can hear a distant 'hello'.  Putting the phone on speaker he puts the receiver down.
"Warren L/n here. I believe I have something of yours," he says.
"What are you talking about?" You inhale a staggered breath, hearing the familiar gruff voice of Kim Namjoon.
Your dad's plan was simple. If you were telling the truth about Bangtan not knowing who you were, their leader would be confused and concerned that you were with the leader of Bastille. But if they knew who you were, this would be a much more straightforward issue. Namjoon would understand right away why he was calling.
And if you were lying about one thing, he could assume you were lying about more.
"Say hello Y/n." Your dad prompts, his look daring you to refuse.
"Hi," You squeak, nervously chewing the inside of your cheek. Your own safety aside, Namjoon was going to kill Yoongi.
There's a brief pause. The background noise on Namjoon's side disappearing. "Kidnapping women? I didn't realise you were handling that personally now."
"Who said kidnap?" he leads the conversation.
"Then maybe you want to explain what one of our girls is doing with you?" Namjoon growls, sounding protective.
That was enough confirmation for your father. The leader didn't know what was going on. But he was about to.
On Namjoons side of the line, he was pacing back and forth in a closed meeting room at the entrance of the clubhouse. Your father was revealing the secret that you and Yoongi had fought so hard to keep.
The phone call ending, Namjoon was in a rage. Marching across the bar he stormed at the table with other members around it. His maddened expression drawing Yoongi's attention. But the older member didn't have any reason to think this fury was directed at him and so he doesn't react quick enough as Namjoon punches him in the face, knocking him from his chair.
The other boys instantly becoming alert, Jungkook jumps to Namjoons side holding his arm out in front of him, looking ready to intervene. Jimin standing between the floored Yoongi and the enraged leader.
"Hyung, what the hell ar-" Jimin snaps.
"You fucking idiot! Bastille's daughter?!" he roars trying to push through Jimin. Jungkook stepping in to help keep him at bay.
Climbing back to his feet, nursing a split lip, Yoongi's eyes go wide. Completely caught off guard by Namjoon's revelation. "How did you-" he gapes.
"Everything she's seen, everything she knows! Do you have any idea how much you've exposed this club?" He lunges again, bowling the mediating members out of the way. Diving through Yoongi, the two men trade blows as they scuffle on the floor.
The scene quickly gets out of hand, and as Yoongi throws Namjoon through a table, Jin and Hoseok come from a backroom to step in also. The four of them now working to pry the two battling men apart. Jimin and Hoseok holding back Yoongi. The oldest and youngest members trying to keep Namjoon at bay.
"Enough!" Jin scolds with a firm shove to Namjoon's chest. "Someone explain what the hell is going on!"
"Just Suga thinking with his dick, instead of his brain." Namjoon spits.
Shirking off the boys, Yoongi barges forward infuriated by the provocative comment. War breaking out again with a solid hit at Namjoon, a gash opening over his eye. Another difficult struggle beginning for the members, grappling and clawing them apart. Having to fully restrain them to have them stop. Being held as they bleed.
Grabbing both of them by the collar, Jin demands their focus. "The next man who throws a punch leaves here with a bullet in his leg!" He growls. "Am I clear?!" His fist tightens, stiffening their necklines.
"Yes,"
"Yes, Hyung."
The two of them conceded, their energy dropping as their eldest releases them. "Good. Now sit down so we can talk this shit out."
It takes several minutes and a round of drinks, but the room calms down enough for the members to sit down. They send the few 2nd levels out and the 95's girlfriends. The bar remaining with only the 7 original members. Taehyung coming back just as the disclosure began.
Namjoon starts, passing along the information your father had given him. The 6 of them all sharing disappointed, worried or angry glances towards Yoongi.
"She wouldn't have said anything." Yoongi insists, after explaining his side also. Trying to defend his decision. To defend you.
"You can't know that," Jimin argues, flumping back in his seat. Taking a sip with a pissed-off scowl on his face.
"Yeah, we've all been pussy blinded before. You're not thinking clearly." Jungkook snips.
"Maknae-" Yoongi warns. Getting tired of the disrespect that keeps getting thrown his way.
"Hey, watch it." Jin interrupts, correcting Jungkook's blunt attitude. The youngest shrugging, downing the last of his drink.
"Look, if she was giving information to L/n, then why would he call to tell you that he knows." Yoongi disputes. Hoping to bring reason back into the debate.
"He wants to trade. The latest shipment of horse for Y/n." Namjoon answers with a frustrated scoff and a roll of his eyes.
"That's close to 500 K. That's not happening," Hoseok jumps in. The rest of them firmly nodding in agreement.
"Okay, but if that's the case. If he's trying to sell her off, that means she's not working with him. Right?" Taehyung backs Yoongi's point.
"Idiot," Jimin shoves his friend, "It could be a part of the plan. A way to rip us off for half a million."
"Or it could be a set-up," Namjoon adds. "Let's say Hyung's right, and she isn't working with her old man. If we're willing to sit down, if we try to buy her back, it confirms that she knows enough that we're concerned about it."
"I'm telling you, she doesn't know anything. She didn't want to know anything. And even if she did, she's not gonna give it up." Again Yoongi vehemently defends you.
"Well if she doesn't give him anything then L/n kills her." Namjoon finalizes. "To hurt the club, and as retribution for her betrayal."
"What I don't understand is why you would let her go back? If you trust her and you know how ruthless Bastille is, why would you let her keep going back to him?" Jin asks, genuinely baffled.
Standing up Yoongi can't take anymore. He's furious. He's upset. At himself most of all. Feeling to blame for allowing you to be in this situation, he leaves in anger. Needing some time to himself to think.
"I don't know, she seemed pretty cool," Taehyung mutters, leaning into Namjoon. "You don't really think he would kill his own daughter, right?"
It's been 2 days and you've been locked in an empty storage shed at the edge of the property like a captive. Your father turned your world upside down looking for information. His people went through your computer, your phone, your car, your room. Everything that was yours he and his men had raided. And just like you said, there was nothing there. No information about Bastille, and nothing about Bangtan.
"Suga. I'm guessing that's Min Yoongi? Unless you're cheating on him." Your dad muses holding up your phone. That is so humiliating. So many nudes and dirty texts are in that chat. There may not be revealing information, but there was still plenty of personal stuff.
"You know Darling, I don't like to admit when I am wrong, but it looks like you were telling the truth. I can't find any proof that you gave up any family details." He smiles softly, your heart lifting with relief for a moment. "But then I was looking through your camera roll and, in the pictures where you actually have clothes on, it's just full of Bangtan." He comes further into the empty shed, leaning on the wall alongside you. Showing you the screen as he scrolls through. The only entrance being blocked by one of his more grizzly looking men. "See here, there's you and a bunch of them at a restaurant. There's you and the leader. You and the crazy one. Here's a family-style photo, isn't that nice."
He keeps scrolling through shot after shot, exhibiting an entire album full of Bangtan family pictures.
"I'm sure you never expected anyone else to see these. I guess I should have been teaching you not to put the same password for multiple devices." He scoffs. "But the interesting thing, when I'm going through these photos you seem to be really close with all of them. Some of these even go back to last year. Which makes the timeline you gave me a little off."
He shows the details of one of the pictures to you, the time stamp from when you had already been with Yoongi for 6 months.
"This one is from May 2nd. Last year. On the 10th those bastards stole one of my shipping containers. With nearly 100 grand worth of merchandise. Did you know about that?"
"You mean people." You sneer, his characterization of human trafficking as 'merchandise' making your skin crawl.
"So you did know." He smiles coldly.
"I found out- I knew after," you justify. Even as you continue to defend yourself, you have a sick feeling that it's all for nothing.
"I'm really curious what else you know." He hums, walking around the front of you to get back into your eye line.
"I don't know anything," you tell him for the 1000th time with an exasperated shake of your head. Moving away to the far side of the shed.
"Darling, I'm your father and I'm telling you we need to reconcile this. Your mother is worried sick. I'm here losing sleep over this. I'm giving you a chance to repay all the damage you've done. A chance to forget all this. You tell me everything you know about Bangtan, and just like that," he snaps his fingers, "you get to return to your comfortable life."
You don't trust his change in tone or his promises for a minute. You may not have known the darkest parts of who he is, but that's how you can be sure that his offer to forgive and forget is rubbish. Not even the father in him would let you forget a mistake. Especially one this major, not with the way he is reacting. And he's so much more brutal when it comes to Bastille.
"And if I don't?"
"Then you've betrayed your family. And we'll find out what we want to know in other ways." he taps the back of his hand in the other, symbolizing a beat down.
You shake your head hard. You might love your dad. But you don't like him. You've known for most of your life that he was a bad guy. And Yoongi, Bangtan, they might not be the good guys, but they've been the family you've always wanted. There is no way you were telling him even the most insignificant detail.
"Hit me all you want dad, I still don't know anything." You snarl.
"I could never hit my own daughter." He taps his heart, a feigned pained expression on his face. Nodding his head in your direction, he trades places with his man who advances on you.
Breathing hard you step back only to hit the wall.
The tall, square-built man swings. The back of his hand slapping your cheek, the force so strong that it smacks you into the corner sidewall. His hand, like a vice, grabs ahold of your head and mightily slams it into the steel beam running down the sheet metal wall. Pushing your hands against his chest, you weakly attempt to fend him off, but he ends your efforts with another solid wack against the frame.
As blood streams down your head, his focus switches. The majority of his attacks landing on your torso.
With you curled up on the floor, wheezing and gasping for breath, the assault finally stops. But not out of mercy. Even through the ringing in your ears, you can hear the outburst of gunfire in the distance.
Both your dad and his man rush out, leaving you locked away. While it's for an equally terrifying reason, you're thankful to have this time to catch your breath. Although every laborious intake brings agony.
After some time, light floods back into the room, your father standing in the doorway outlined by the setting sun. "I'm sorry Darling. If I had to do this, I hoped it would be a bit more ceremonious. But we don't have the time for that now."
You gasp at him raising his gun at you. He shoots three times. One in your chest, one in your shoulder and one in your stomach.
The shock, the impact takes the breath from you. And you can't draw it back in. Your eyes glassing over, your head filled with nothing but white noise. Feeling a fleeting moment of relief as everything goes quiet and dark.
"Fuck. No!" Yoongi howls. He, Jin and two 2nd ranks had chased after your father as he fled.
Bangtan's siege on his property was highly successful till that point, and he had run downhill to the storage garage. Looking to make a getaway.
The other's continue after him as Yoongi stumbles into you. His steely outer shell crumbling away the moment he sees your body limp and bleeding out.
Falling beside you he leans over shaking and in tears. Kissing your lips gently with heartfelt pleas "I'm sorry Y/n. I'm so sorry. Please don't do this. Please."
Jin doubles back, watching distraught from the entrance as his brother falls apart.
Lifting your head up, Yoongi brings your forehead to his. The movement making you splutter blood. The first sign of life that either of the men had seen.
"Holy fuck, she's alive." Jin gawks, jumping in beside Yoongi pressing on the hole in your stomach. The bullet in your shoulder and chest had both hit bone, stopping the slug from going through, blocking the wounds from severe blood loss. The bullet in your torso shot through your bowls and thankfully not through your vital organs. Meaning your chances of survival were much higher. It was either 3 highly unlucky shots or three precisely placed ones.
"I'm so sorry Y/n." Yoongi's in shock. Devastated and guilt-ridden, and unable to make himself function.
"Dude, get your shit together or she's not gonna make it." Jin smacks the side of his brothers head, snapping him out of his grief-stricken daze.
"Can you save her?" He asks rubbing the tears from his eyes.
"Not a chance. But I can keep her alive for a minute until we get to the clubhouse. Call the doc, tell him to meet us there." Jin orders, having much more clarity at this moment. "And get the boys to bring the car around. We're going to need a few of us to move her."
Yoongi follows Jin's lead, wiping the blood from his hands onto his pants to dial.
"Think of it this way," Jin smiles shortly, trying to soothe Yoongi's fear and panic with an ill-timed joke. "If she survives, at least she'll have proved she's Bangtan."
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annie-mit-ie · 3 years ago
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Glimpses: Part 8 (Kathryn Hahn x Fem!Reader)
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Part 1 // previous chapter <<< >>> next chapter
Summary: Babysteps are taken.
Word Count: 1,8k
A/N: Hey y’all! I am really sorry it took me a while to get to this but tbh life hasn't been the easiest since I’ve last posted. I hope you all enjoy this chapter, even though it turned out completely different than I had anticipated. Definitely plan to throw another chapter your way this week. We’ll see :)
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Her soft lips move against yours as Kathryn’s hand finds her way into your hair. She pulls you closer and it seems like she wants to deepen the kiss, but before she gets any chance to do so, you break the contact.
“Kathryn…“, both of you are panting and you have to hold on to her upper thigh to steady yourself. You take in a deep breath as she looks at you with widened eyes, while a worried look is creeping onto her face. She immediately lets go of your neck. Still panting, she tries to form words.
“Sweetheart, I… I am so sorry! I… Oh my god!“ Her eyes widen and she removes herself completely from you and puts a few more inches in between the two of you. “Is this…? Did we…? Are you okay?“
You nod, slowly, because you need time to process. What struck you and made you speechless wasn’t the fact that she kissed you in the first place, no, you are absolutely confused by her harsh reaction to the occurring situation. You look at her, eyes wide open, as she is sitting way too far away from you and looks at you like something horrible has happened.
“Kathryn, hey, I AM okay. Very much so, stop worrying. All is good!“ You take her hand in yours. “I… I loved this. This is everything I have ever dreamed of…“ “But?…“, she impatiently interrupts you and you give her the look that a mother gives her children when they repeatedly reach for a toy they are not allowed to have. 
“But… This is not how I want this to go. Let me take you out on a date or something?  Let’s go eat somewhere or read or talk or just sit… But not in the back of a car in the middle of the night as we are both very much not sober, hm?“ She nods and the hiccup, that escapes her throat right after you take her hand into yours again, just tells you that you’re right.
The rest of the ride is calm and quiet as Kathryn clearly is tired and overwhelmed with all the love she has gotten all night. You opt to just sit with her in silence, noticing how her body slowly falls against yours until her head lands on her shoulder. She is asleep.
You move a strand of hair behind her ear - prompting a small smile to form on her lips and it makes you feel proud that you did the grown up thing and resisted the urge to take a step further, the urge to see how far she would go, not that you could sneakily slip your hand anywhere anyway, considering she was still wearing that one-piece that was hugging her in all the right places.
Shaking your head to get rid of the thoughts that are flooding your tipsy brain right now, you realize you’ve reached your neighborhood right as the car slows down on the side walk. Peter opens the window to look at you “Do you want me to take you directly to your house or do you want to walk the rest of the way?“
You really appreciate how considerate he is, but you have to tell your mom eventually anyway, so you opt for the safer option. “Take me directly home, please.“ He nods and his eyes wander to Kathryn, who is still asleep on your shoulder. “You’re good for her, I hope you know that.“, Peter says before closing the window again.
“YOU DID WHAT?“ You haven’t seen your best friend enraged like that ever before. “YOUR./NAME… YOU DID WHAT NOW?
Telling her that you were the one who broke off a kiss with Kathryn was probably not your smartest idea in a while. When you got home last night, you went straight to bed, but texted Alex that you were gonna call her as soon as you woke up to give her all the tea.
“I… I broke the kiss?“ You repeat and look at her, scared she will yell at you again.
“Honey! How??? Why? This could’ve very well been a one in a lifetime chance!“ She is not mad or anything, more shocked because she knows how much you’ve wanted this.
You look at her and both of you become serious for a moment. “It wasn’t right. We had too much to drink. I know she wanted it. We’ve had moments before, but… I just didn’t feel right, Alex. I don't know how to explain. Don’t get me wrong, I was into it, very much so, but I want the real deal. Not a car fling, you know?“ “You really are the most amazing person I’ve ever met. I hope she knows how fortunate she is to know someone as respectful as you.“ It still felt unusual to talk about Kathryn that way. Even to your best friend. Even though you know you share everything with Alex that is there to share. Kathryn was Kathryn and you were… just you. But somehow, when the two of you are together, that doesn't matter at all. You don’t think about who she is when you are with Kathryn.
Right as you think about her, your phone lights up and you receive a message.
„Sweetheart, I really enjoyed having you around last night! Can’t wait to do it again. Packed week ahead, sadly, but would like to invite you to my garden again by the end of it? xxx K.“
For a moment, you smile and already want to text back, but you had read the message out to Alex as well and she doesn’t want you to text back just yet. “Can’t wait to do it again?“, she says. “Like as in the kiss or as in the night, well I mean the day, in general? DUDE. That’s huge!“ You hadn’t thought about it that way. Alex was wild sometimes. She would come up with things that you haven’t considered yet, but not always in a good way. Sometimes, she drops knowledge on you until your anxiety kicks in and she doesn’t even notice. Not this time, though.
This time, Alex’ remark only makes your chest swell with pride because, either way, it was a huge compliment. You let Kathryn know that you feel the same and you would love to visit her again.
The following week seems to be endless but somehow you make your way through it, especially with a Q&A that was announced Sunday night and would happen today. Kathryn is booked to watch an episode of her latest show Wandavision with some cast members on something like Zoom, where they can be seen by fans around the globe to promote upcoming shows and increase streams.
She had texted you a selfie earlier, and captioned it with how she was missing your compliments while getting ready, with a wink, of course, and you that made you even more excited to see her later. 
The event itself is cute, hundreds of fans are online and even though you can’t see the other fans, you all can feel the unity and love towards the cast. You’re sitting on your desk, laptop propped up in front of you with the stream, while you are FaceTiming Alex who stayed awake for the event like she always does.
“Kathryn is just soooo beautiful tonight.“ Alex swoons, as you watch her staring at the stream. Kathryn does look great. Her blue eyes are highlighted by the blue button up shirt she is wearing and her hair is loosely hanging down one side. Ben really outdid himself with tonight’s look. She smiles at something Lizzie says and they both laugh as they watch the scene where Agatha and Wanda are in the kitchen together.
“Many mouths make good gossip.“ Alex laughs and you can see Kathryn grin in the corner of your eyes as you look at her best friend. “Have you told her she looks beautiful yet?“
It was a logical question. Shooting her a message would be so easy and yet, you haven’t thought of it yet. You shake your head.
“Gurl! Take your phone and text her, NOW! Let’s gooooooo.“ She was right. You had the perfect chance right there and you were sure Kathryn would not be looking at her phone anytime soon. Most likely, she would only see your message after the event, so you decide to go for it after all.
“Looking really good tonight, Ms Hahn. ;)“ you finally type. It took you a couple tries and you reworded the message several times, trying to figure out what tone would fit best. After deleting the previous ideas, you just want to not send anything at all, but as you reread your final words , you feel satisfaction and that makes you decide to shoot your shot after all.  
Ales notices our internal struggle “Y/N! Send that freaking message NOW.“ You know she would take your phone and just press send if she was with you and you want this friendship to feel a little less distant tonight, so you immediately press send.
Immediately, the both of you keep your eyes on the stream to not miss any possible reactions and you were wrong. Kathryn actually does have her phone with her and you can tell she notices a message because she looses attention for a second and looks to her left.
You can tell she rethinks if she should pick up her phone or not, but before you can worry about the whole situation more, she reaches out for her phone and reads. The smile on her face is telling. She tries to tone the smile down but it still creeps onto her face on one side. You’re not sure, but you would also say that there is a little blush around her nose that you think is adorable and makes a warm feeling bubble up in your body. OH NO.
Shortly, she looks directly at the camera with the softest smile, before putting the phone back aside and giving her attention back to the cast and episode.
“JACKPOT!“ Alex celebrates an early win. „She loved it! See! Aaaaargh, I am SO GOOD AT THIS.“
 You roll your eyes. “You have a wife, honey, OBVIOUSLY you are.“
And while the two of you laugh about your antics and virtually high five because messaging Kathryn was a success,  the other fans on twitter are already freaking out about the mysterious message Kathryn has gotten and who it might've been from.
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gregnas-the-grouch · 3 years ago
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Truth Without Power
All was calm in the forest. The singing of birds, the chipping of insects, the gentle sway of trees in the wind. It all blended in the background, But for one Cofagrigus, it only served to aid her meditation. The warrior’s mind still, focused. Nothing could break her concentration at this point. 
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“So eager to earn my ire? I know your mental faculties are lacking, yet even I must admit I’m impressed at the depths you’re willing to pursue in the name of enraging me.” Baozhai’s demeanor had hit a new low. For all her bluster, even Yemir could feel it radiating off the Cofagrigus in sickening waves. It gave the small Gallade pause, if only for a moment as Bao turned to face her charge. “It seems I have no option left. Since I can find no opponent capable of rousing you to your former size. I will simply have to get my hands dirty”, the ghost murmured. Standing up to her full height, Baozhai looked down at Yemir. As if she were a mischievous child that needed scolding. “Be proud. It’s not often people get to face me in combat. One of the better highlights compared to the list of individuals you’ve battled, I would say”, a slight smile formed on her face as Yemir stared at Baozhai.
The reduced giant remained quiet for a few moments before she suddenly bursted into a fit of laughter. Clutching her chest tightly, Yemir did her best not to pass out from the intense pain as she howled like a looney. Bao’s light smile vanished in an instant, her right eye twitching in irritation as Yemir wiped a few tears from her eyes. Calming down. “Oh, that’s a good one, Granny Bao. I thought you were being serious there”, Yemir chuckled. Only to note the annoyance Baozhai had been displaying. “... Oh god, you’re being serious, aren’t ya?” Yemir ruminates upon the Cofagrigus’ words before uttering a simple, “no”, in response. “No offense, but yer not exactly what I would consider a good fight? What do ya do, just flip around with yer little sword there and poke people in the gut? Nah, that’s kinda boring if ye ask me”, Yemir grunted with a lazy look on her face.
“Ah, I see how it is”, Baozhai mused out loud as she started at Yemir. “You’re simply afraid to have this old woman beat your ass, is that it? I suppose I'd be afraid to have my precious reputation too if a, how did you put it? A granny. Beat my ass as well. Perfectly natural response”, Baozhai said calmly as her words poked and prodded at Yemir’s ego. The Gallade bared her teeth, snarling deeply as she turned her back to Baozhai with her arms crossed. “Nice try. I know yer just trying to goad me into fightin’ ya. Ain’t gonna happen.” Without another word, Yemir slowly started to walk away from Baozhai. Yet the mummy wasn’t finished with her little insults. “Ah, I see how it is. Yemir is still pouting and throwing a fit over what happened in White Forest, is it? I wonder… how would your father feel about your cowardice?”
Yemir immediately froze on the spot. Stiff and silent like a statue as Baozhai continued forth with her little verbal assault. “That’s why you continue to suffer from such a sullen mood, no? You put all your faith and trust into someone you believed to be good. Someone you believed to be on your side. Only to find out that they’re not quite the person you thought them to be. Yet you just walk, acting like you’re some kind of hot shit. Being a perpetual mope and doing nothing to solve this little predicament of yours. Perhaps your brother had a good reason to betray you. Perhaps if your father was still alive today, he’d show nothing but disappointment at your inability to-”, Baozhai was cut off as a large rock went flying past her at breakneck speed. The armored ghost twisted her head at just the last second to avoid it before returning her attention back to Yemir. The short Gallade’s mouth had steam seeping out as her pupils were narrowed. Hands balled into fists. “Ya better hope yer as good at fightin’ as ye are at flapping yer lips!”
Baozhai paused for a few moments before a wry grin spread across her face. “See? Was that so hard? Now… give me everything you got”, Baozhai growled. Spreading her arms, as if to goad Yemir even further into attacking her. Naturally, this worked as Yemir barred her teeth, hands clenched into fists as she charged forward. Reckless as ever. Baozhai stood still, her eyes locked onto the Gallade, making no noise or movement until the brawny shrimp was right on top of her. Arm curled back, ready to deck Baozhai right in that pretty little face of hers. Yemir swung forward, only for her eyes to widen as Baozhai shifted to the side. Face stuck in that mocking expression as she gave Yemir a sharp slap over the back of her head with one of her ghostly hands. Yemir stumbled a bit, having swung her punch, only to meet nothing but air. Bao’s playful gesture only served to enrage Yemir further as the Cofagrigus merely chortled at her.
“Come now, surely you can do better than this, no? I thought Yemir was undefeatable”, the ghost taunted. Only adding to Yemir’s frustrations. The Gallade said nothing aside from low grunts and snarls. Her hands trembling at the chance to punch the snooty Cofagrigus. Yet, no matter how often Yemir lunged at Baozhai. All she received in response was that obnoxious smack over the back of her head. Again and again. The brute’s rage was starting to boil at this point. Any sense of caution thrown to the wind as her speed started to build up. Baozhai even noticed Yemir’s mass increasing as the seconds went by. In a couple of minutes, she had almost reached Baozhai’s height herself. Good progress, but not enough for Baozhai.
“Tell me, how does someone like yourself get praised for being such a good warrior? You have the brawn, yes. But that’s all you have. No thought behind your actions. No tact or strategy. Just swinging away with your massive fists. Maybe the only reason they praised you as such is that most didn’t know how to fight to begin with. Nothing but skill-less fools praising a bigger fool who was simply stronger than them.” Bao’s words tore into Yemir’s pride like a pack of hungry Houndoom digging into a fresh kill. “Shut it!”, the giant yelled, her fists swinging faster, more furiously. Yet Baozhai always seemed one step ahead. Just barely out of reach of her punches. “Shut it? Why should I? All you’ve been doing is running your mouth ever since we started our little journey. You can’t even touch me”, Baozhai taunted, her eyes narrowed at the giant. A blood vessel popped in Yemir’s forehead as her teeth grated against each other. Her mouth clenched in anger. Bringing out another punch to throw Baozhai’s way.
The Cofagrigus yawned, prepared to dodge another of Yemir’s blows.However, as the massive arm crossed Baozhai’s path, she felt a sharp sting on her face. Hissing, she pulled back, reaching towards her face, only to pull back. Green blood stained her black hand. Yemir… hit her? How? She didn’t see the punch connect with her face. Yet the damage was apparent to the old ghost. Yemir merely had an angry smile on her face. Pleased, she managed to land a hit on Baozhai, even if the effect wasn’t intended. “Keep on talkin’, Bao. I’ll wipe that smirk of yer face just yet”, the giant proclaimed loudly. Baozhai was silent for a few seconds before her mocking demeanor became considerably more serious. “You’ll regret that.”
Not wanting to let up on Baozhai, Yemir charged once more. Keeping the pressure on the ancient Cofagrigus as best she could. Yet as she was about to land a punch on Baozhai, all the giant could hear was a dull thud. Confused, Yemir turned her head to the side, only to see Baozhai standing her ground. Using both her forearms as a shield, the Cofagrigus managed to tank Yemir’s hit, barely budging from her spot. Baozhai merely glared back at Yemir with an angry smile of her own. “Hm, is this the best punch you can throw? Pathetic”, the ghost mocked. Her ghostly hair suddenly sprouted a life of its own. Wrapping around Yemir’s arm like snakes and squeezing ever so tightly so Yemir couldn’t get away. The growing giant had little time to contemplate Baozhai’s words or moves as she felt a ghastly energy well up near her abdomen. Looking down, the Gallade made note of a ShadowBall swelling up in size. Baozhai’s human hand near it as the energy felt more intense with each passing moment.
Yemir could barely let out a word as Baozhai unleashed her attack. Yemir let out a screech as she felt her massive body sent rocketing back. The ghostly energy orb driving into her body like a runaway train. Slamming into any poor tree caught in her way. Yemir was sent flying through the forest, leaving a small path of destruction in her wake as Baozhai merely stood up, watching her handiwork in action as a bright flash of purple, followed by a loud boom went off. “Ah… Perhaps I got a bit too carried away there. Haos would never let me hear the end of it if I wound up killing her.” The ghost knew better, though. Yemir certainly had a reputation for being resilient.
As Baozhai slowly made her way towards the impact zone, she made note of all the broken trees. Nothing but smouldering stumps at this point. The Shadowball had sent Yemir flying quite some ways away. Dozens of yards by the look of it. Until naught but a pile of broken trees and charred ground piled up where the giant once remained. “Yemir, are you still alive?”, the ghost called out. Leaning forward to get a better look, hoping for some sign of life. Yet it remained eerily silent. The Cofagrigus frowned, her body starting to tense up a bit as she expected Yemir to burst out of there any second now. Until she felt something grip her legs.
Her head snapped down, only to notice the shadows had sprung to life. Wrapping around her calves and ankles, as if they had a life of their own as Baozhai’s expression changed from one of uncertainty to one of regret. “Fuck”, was all the ghost could utter as the pile of debris suddenly exploded. Yemir, restored in all her monolithic glory, lept forth. Eyes wide with determination and fury. Her right arm reared back for one hell of a punch. Only this one was different. Her elbow vent had been spouting flames, roaring like a jet engine as Bao’s gut curled into a tight ball, her throat locked. The mummy could only brace herself before she felt several tons of might and rage slam into her. The Cofagrigus was slammed into the ground, the breath knocked out of her. All she could do was yell in pain as Yemir continued her unrelenting assault, constantly pounding her oversized fists into Baozhai’s chest as all Baozhai could do was yell in anger. Being driven further and further into the ground as the entire area around her shattered into a crater. Until, eventually, all that remained was a massive hole where Baozhai once stood. Yemir towering over it, breathing heavily as her anger simmered down a bit.
“... Well, that’s one way to vent me anger, I suppose”, Yemir grumbled to herself. Surveying all the destruction she had caused. The crater was much bigger than she expected. Staring at her arms, she made note of her elbow vent. Still smoking from the raw power she had just released. A big smile spread across her face. She didn’t know how she did it. But with those elbow vents, she could make her punches hit harder. Who knows what else she could do with them as well? Yemir didn’t waste much time reflecting on this, staring at the hole in the ground where Baozhai used to be. “Oi! Bao, ya in there?” Yemir called out, only to be greeted with silence. “Huh, maybe I punched her too hard,'' Yemir grunted. Looking at the scene of destruction before her. It was enough to flatten a small town and then some.
After staring at the Baozhai shaped hole in the ground for a few more seconds. Yemir merely shrugged her shoulders before turning around and walking away. The giant had no interest in following Baozhai anymore, to be quite frank. Yemir just didn’t feel like dealing with her bullshit anymore. As the giant lumbered forth a few yards, an all too familiar voice called out to her. Making Yemir’s ears perk up. “Leaving so soon? I thought we were just getting warmed up”, called out the cold, yet condescending voice of Baozhai. Spinning around in disbelief, Yemir’s eyes widened upon seeing Baozhai standing before her. Her armor had seen better days, a few chips and cracks here and there. Her otherwise perfect face bruised, green blood dripping down the corner of her mouth while her normally smooth and straight hair had been frayed and messy.
Yet, Yemir noticed something off about Baozhai. Behind her chilly demeanor, her eyes seethed with a fire the brute thought missing in the empress. Admittedly, Yemir was impressed by the old ghost’s resilience. Most people wouldn’t take such a beating and get back up. Smirking, Yemir crossed her arm, staring down at Baozhai with a cocky grin. “Heh, I guess those dusty warriors follow ya fer a reason. But ya still pissed me off, so don’t expect me to go easy on ya”, the giant grunted, Baozhai simply narrowed her eyes at Yemir. The giant herself raised a brow when the Cofagrigus slowly unsheathed her sword. Holding it in one hand as Yemir merely smiled wider. “So, finally decided to take me seriously, aye? Good. I’m done talkin’ with ya”, Yemir grunted. Cracking her knuckles as the Cofagrigus assumed a defensive stance with her blade. As if expecting Yemir to make the first move.
The giant did not disappoint. Her smile replaced with a scowl, Yemir lunged at Baozhai. Her fists alight with fire, hoping to crush baozhai under the weight of her attack. Baozhai simply dodged to the side. A glint of steel crossed Yemir’s eyes, followed by a sharp pain. A large one opened up on her right forearm. A small geyser of purple blood sprayed out as Yemir’s eyes widened in surprise. She didn’t even see Baozhai swing her sword. The Cofagrigus didn’t let up. Weaving and ducking through every punch Yemir threw her way. Responding in kind with a swing of a sword. Slicing her way the giant’s flesh as if it were butter. Annoyed with all these scratches and nicks, Yemir bellowed mightily, slamming her clenched fists together as steam erupted from her body. Her muscles contracted, growing ever denser as her skin color darkened. As Baozhai swung her sword, her eyes widened as she felt the sword meet resistance. The flesh harder to carve through.
Yemir took it a step further, the shadows around them began to waver and twist. Darkened tendrils sprouting out of them like sharpened blades, jutting towards Baozhai. The mummy lept back, wincing as she felt a few nick her in the areas her armor didn’t cover. Yemir let out a roar as she charged at the retreating ghost. Her throat began to glow before a torrent of blue flames erupted from her mouth. Baozhai lept back, feeling the sapphire flames singe the tip of her hair, a small sneer forming on her face. Holding up her other hand, another Shadowball formed from Bao’s ghastly energy. Yet, the Cofagrigus did not throw it at Yemir, even as she managed to stay one step ahead of Yemir’s fiery breath. Instead, Baozhai pointed the tip of her blade at the ghostly sphere before piercing it. The energy enveloping the bladed. Taking on the shape of the sword itself, but doubling its length.
Yemir’s eyes widened, closing her mouth as she made note of what Baozhai pulled off. The back of her hair stood on edge. Her gut clenched while a dry lump formed in her throat. Something told the brute she didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that. Spotting a boulder nearby that managed to survive their skirmish. Yemir plunged both her hands around it, plucking it out of the ground with a mighty lift. Yemir opened her mouth, spewing more flames around the rock. Seemingly clinging to it, as if it had a desire to never let go. The fire itself seemed to have no effect on the titan as she let it plop on the ground. The shadows around her danced and stretched, reaching out to the boulder before wrapping around it. Plunging one hand near the flaming rock, the shadows reached out, coiling around Yemir’s arm and holding tight.
A manic smile spread across Yemir’s face as she lifted her arm back up, the boulder followed suit, the shadows keeping the two tethered as the burly brute began to swing the flaming boulder around like a ball n’ chain. Baozhai had little time to react, rolling to the ground as she felt the heat of the massive rock pass by her. Mere inches from knocking her head off. Yet, despite it all, Baozhai retained her composure, unflinching in the face of Yemir’s might. Sword in hand, Baozhai sprung back into action. Racing right towards Yemir. This caught the giant off guard, swinging the flaming boulder around recklessly, in the vain hopes of crushing Baozhai. This did not deter Baozhai, who sprinted ever closer. Yemir pulled back her weapon, having it land perfectly in her meaty palm before swinging it horizontally, hoping to sweep Baozhai along with it. Yet Baozhai managed to slide underneath it, mere feet away from Yemir as her amber eyes burned brightly with determination.
It all happened so fast as the Cofagrigus lept forth, the ethereal blade slicing through her shadow tethered arm effortlessly. The giant felt nothing at first, naively thinking nothing happened. Only to watch as her limb suddenly separated from her shoulder. Flying through the air as it was still attached to the boulder. Careening some distance away before landing on the ground with an unceremonious thump. Yemir let out a loud yell, clutching at the stump where her right arm used to be as blood gushed out of it, the pain wracking through her body. Though the giant seemed to treat it more as an inconvenience then the fact she just lost an arm. Her grip tightened as she turned her head back at Baozhai. Her mismatched eyes glaring at the mummy, anger beginning to rise once more while the mummy matched her stare in ferocity. The two were silent before Baozhai simply uttered, “do you yield?”
Yemir snarled at the mummy, her teeth bared as she felt tempted to lunge for and crush the ancient spirit with her powerful jaws. Yet, in the back of Yemir’s mind, she recalled the little promise she had made to her father. Her face quivered before letting out a sigh, “I yield.” “Good”, the mummy seemed satisfied with Yemir’s response. Staring at her sword, Bao swung the blade to the side, flicking the titan’s blood off of it. “Sting is satisfied with the battle. Now fetch your arm, I would hate to see you forget the trinkets your father left behind”, the mummy stated. Yemir rolled her eyes, even though she wasn’t that forgetful as she stumbled forward to retrieve her missing limb. Baozhai walked in step by Yemir’s side, silently eyeing the giant’s wound while Yemir leaned forward, picking the limb up with her free hand. “Excellent, let us make haste, lest we attract unwanted guests with our little scuffle”, Baozhai gestured to all the destruction around them. Yemir merely stared at Baozhai as she turned around and began to walk away. 
“Why?”, the giant called out. Stopping the empress in her tracks as Yemir took a step forward. “Why are ya doing this? Ye hate my guts. Sliced my damn arm off fer fuck’s sake. But ya still want me with you. Why?”, the giant called out as Baozhai remained silent before simply responding with, “I have a duty to my friends, nothing more.” Yemir’s mouth curled into a snarl as she took another step forward. “Bullshit!”, the giant yelled at the top of her lungs. “There’s more than just fucking duty! Yer a bitch, there’s gotta be a better reason!” Baozhai turned her head in response to this, her eyes matching Yemir with a frosty glare. “Say that again”, the ghost demanded of Yemir, her tone unwavering.
Yemir paused, looking down at the severed hand she clutched tightly before looking back up at Baozhai. “Yer a bitch.” Baozhai merely let out an icy laugh, chilling Yemir’s soul. “You’re right, I am a bitch… Does it matter, though?”, the warrior ghost replied as she crossed her arms. Yemir tilted her head, trying to respond. Yet nothing would come out as she fumbled with the words. “I’m a bitch. A tyrant. A devil. I’ve been called these things and more by those who hated me with every fiber of their being. But does it matter? To which I would say, no, it didn’t. Want to know why? Because they lacked the power to be right”, Baozhai proclaimed casually. Waving an arm, as if to dismiss these accusations.
“It’s one thing to speak the truth. It’s another to have the power to back it up as well. For what good is “truth” if you can’t maintain your own? What good is the wailing of those who had been conquered, yet lacked the strength to stand up and make their truth become a reality? Nothing. Not a goddamn thing”, Baozhai stated, her serene expression became more menacing as a result. “You want to know why I’m helping you? True, I do have my duty to my friend. But I also have my own reasons. If I am to retake my kingdom, my region. What good is ruling if I have naught but cinders and the entire world breathing down my back?”, the ghost explained, expression never faltering. “You think those Golurks were trouble? They’re only the beginning! In case you fail to notice, you practically nuked an entire forest, caused untold damage to a nearby city and the surrounding area-”, only to be cut off by Yemir. 
“-That wasn’t my fault, it was Whisper and Eudai’s fault!”, Yemir retorted. Baozhai’s serene expression shattered in an instant. “It is your fucking fault, Yemir! You think just because your siblings pissed you off that it makes things better? Men, women, children. You killed everyone in that area and now they’ll want blood! You think people give a fuck? Honestly, answer me that. Do they give a shit about you throwing a little temper tantrum because Eudai is an asshole? No, they do not! The only thing that matters to them is your death and nothing will change that.” Baozhai was practically fuming with anger, Yemir unable to talk back as the mummy’s words hit the giant like a truck. After a few seconds, an aura surrounded Baozhai. Her seething rage subdued as she returned to her calmer demeanor. Staring back at Yemir, her expression.
“Let me ask you this. When you exploded, White Forest was gone. But do you believe your siblings perished on that day? Wiped away in the blast of your all consuming rage?” Yemir stared at the ground like a whipped dog. Unable to answer for a short bit before she took in a deep breath and sighed. “No, I never saw it and I have no memories of what happened in our fight fer the most part. But I can… feel them. Like me gut knows they’re still out there”, Yemir rumbled. Refusing to make eye contact with Baozhai. “I’ll take your word for it. If that’s the case, then they’ll likely take advantage of this situation. Use your desperation against you. Especially Eudai”, Baozhai commented, Yemir had a spark of anger in her from mention of that name.
“I know the pain that comes from betrayal, truly, I do. But going about this blindly, nonchalantly, there's no solution at all. You mentioned your brother wanting to become one. If this is the case, I want you to contemplate your brother holding the raw physical strength you’re capable of, as well as the strange power your sister wields. How well do you think that’ll go?” The question seemed to slap Yemir in the face as she lifted her head. “Not good.”
“Yes, not good at all. So ask yourself this. Which truth do you want to prevail? The truth of Eudai? Validated in his treachery. Or the truth of Yemir? Who managed to endure, despite the machinations of her siblings.” Yemir barely gave this question any thought. “My truth.” Baozhai smiled slightly at this, seemingly pleased with Yemir’s response. “As it should be. Now come, I’d really like a headstart before they come to “grace” us with their presence”, Baozhai scoffed as Yemir raised her brow, staring down at the empress. “Wha, wait. Who? Whose coming?” Yemir asked. Baozhai paused before staring back at Yemir. “White Forest is home to a great many deal of creatures. Yet, is special to a certain group that hailed from this region long ago.” Baozhai paused, turning her back to Yemir, but not before uttering a single word.
“Dragons.”
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dmsden · 4 years ago
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Carfax Hargrimm’s Lost Tomb
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Hullo, Gentle Readers. We’re going with one more spooky adventure for Halloween. And this time, we’re pulling out all the stops. This adventure is a bit of a reversal of a standard D&D adventure in a way, as the goal is to return a treasure to a dungeon. It is intended for 5 characters of level 5.
Background: Carfax Hargrimm was a knight loyal to the Margrave of Calengard 200 years in the past. He quested often, but he had one flaw - he fell in love with the wrong woman. He loved the Margrave’s daughter, and, although she loved him too, they loved chastely and from afar. The Margrave saw this growing affection, but he didn’t believe Carfax to be worthy of his daughter’s hand, so he sent him on increasingly dangerous quests. Carfax overcame all obstacles, and his popularity grew, until the Margrave began to believe Carfax sought the crown. He sent the knight out on one more quest, but, this time, he sent an ambush party to do away with him. Carfax was outnumbered, but he and his loyal retainers fought bravely, if futilely. He was slain, and his body was returned to the Margrave.
When he was searched, the Margrave found a letter written to his daughter. It was a letter full of loyalty to the Margrave, glad that he was being given another opportunity to show his mettle, and hoping that, someday, they could be wed. The Margrave realized how badly he had misjudged his loyal knight, and he was full of sorrow. He abdicated in favor of his daughter, who ruled wisely as Margrave for many years more. She had the bodies of Sir Carfax and his loyal men entombed in a secret location so that they would never be disturbed.
The adventure begins as the PCs are encamped for the night. They probably hear someone crashing through the undergrowth behind them, and they soon find themselves embroiled in something spooky!
“Room” 1: The Campsite: The figure crashing through the underbrush is Landyn Humphries, a halfling with bandit stats. He staggers in and begs the PCs to protect him. It’s possible, of course, that they accidentally (or purposefully, depending on your PCs) kill him before they get a chance to figure out what’s going on. In this case, they’ll find he has a small cameo brooch showing a beautiful woman’s profile. They’ll also find a journal that can be used to give the PCs an idea of what’s going on (see below).
Pursuing Humphries are 15 zombies. They will relentlessly crash through the undergrowth, attacking anything in their path. They are trying to recover the cameo, compelled by the will of the lord they served in life, Carfax Hargrimm.
“Room” 2: What’s Going On Here?: Humphries will beg them to help end the attacks. He at first claims to be innocent, but an Insight check quickly shows there’s more to this story than meets the eye. Landyn is terrified, and uses of Persuasion, Intimidation, and Deception may all be useful for getting him to spill the beans. He will finally admit that he was a fence for a group of adventurers who recently decided to plunder a local tomb...that of Carfax Hargrimm. A History check will tell Carfax’s sad story of love, loyalty, and betrayal, or Humphries can tell some of it.
Humphries tells them how the adventurers have been killed one by one, and how the last told him that he’d had a dream that only the cameo’s return to the Tomb and an apology being made to Hargrimm’s shade will send the undead back to rest. He’s not an adventurer himself, but he’ll promise them 4,000 gp and a potion of supreme healing if they’ll undertake this for him.
If the PCs have killed Humphries, the journal can provide much of the above information, but they will need to make Survival checks to track the zombies back to their place of origin. Obviously, they won’t get the reward he promised them either. If they’ve touched the cameo, however, the journal will make it clear that the undead will start to hunt them.
“Room” 3: Tomb Guardians: After locating the Tomb, they’ll find an entrance tunneled into the rocks. There is an empty room full of empty sarcophogi (where the zombies were...there are 15 of them if anyone thinks to ask). They’re all stone and carved in the images of noble warriors. A pair of locked stone double doors beyond leads deeper into the cliff face, and runes around the entrance ward undead from entering...which is also, ironically, why the undead inside haven’t been able to leave in search of the trespassers who stole the brooch.
Standing, as if in effigy, are four suits of armor, each holding a longsword at rest position. If anyone touches the inner door, they animate, becoming four animated armors and four flying swords. They will attack ruthlessly, but, if the door is opened (via magic or picking the lock), they will all collapse in a heap of tangled metal.
“Room” 4: The Master of the House: Beyond the door is the burial chamber of Carfax Hargrimm and his two most loyal henchmen. Their stone sarcophagi are all open, the lids pushed aside. Inside, Carfax is sitting on a stone seat, his men flanking him. Carfax has the statistics of a revenant, and his two men are mummies. He is furious with the grave robbery that stole the symbol of his lost love, Arianna. He wants to rage and destroy everything he can, but he pauses if someone is returning the cameo to him. “Explain to me why I shouldn’t kill you, that wretched little rodent you’re protecting, and the entire village where he lives for this desecration.”
This is a skill challenge, where the PCs must gain 8 successes before having 3 failures. If they fail, Carfax’s rage overcomes him. “I will hear no more of your lies. Defend yourselves!” He will attack until he is destroyed, but this won’t stop him, as he will rise again, and more undead will come...unless the cameo is placed back in the sarcophagi and a sincere apology is given. If they succeed, Carfax is assuaged and will return to his rest. Some skills that could be useful include:
History: To recall the name if his true love and the details of their doomed romance. Mentioning specifics about this will make him sorrowful, but they will remind him that he was a good person, who was loved by a good person, and that he doesn’t wish to do evil.
Persuasion: This could be useful if the PC talks to him about unfair punishments or misjudged deeds, things that he has personal reason to not over-react about. It could also point out that Humphries is not the one who stole the cameo, and that he’s making efforts to make right what his cohorts did.
Deception: This could be used to convince him Humphries is dead, and they are returning the cameo in his place. This might make him think that there is no more reason to continue his quest for revenge.
Intimidation: This is likely useless. It’s difficult to threaten the dead, especially if they know they can return, again and again.
Insight: This could help read Carfax, to note that he is still a being of nobility, honor, loyalty, and love. He may be acting the enraged, wronged figure, but he is a good person at heart.
Performance: There are several songs about the love and betrayal story at the heart of this situation. A bard or other character may perform one, showing Carfax that his legacy lives on.
“Room” 5: The Escape: Once Carfax returns to his sarcophagus or is destroyed, the Tomb begins to bury its secrets. The PCs have three rounds to escape as it begins to rumble and crumble. If they linger to search for treasure, they will regret it. Each round after the third, the PCs must make a Dexterity saving throw or be hit by falling rubble for 11 (2d10) bludgeoning damage. Those who fail may become entombed along with the former undead.
Humphies will make good on the reward, and he will thank them for their aid. If the PCs fought Carfax, the Revenant could return again as something to plague the PCs for many nights to come.
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The Maid Class Analysis
Maids are those who are often thought to only be a servant to those around them, answering to every beck and call that someone higher in authority than them gives. Rarely ever catching a break or being shown much respect, instead tending to play the role of a silent caretaker - a person meant to be seen rather than heard. When whatever job they have been assigned for the time being has been completed, they are often shunted aside, locked away in waiting until the next chore must be done by someone with such a delicate, skittish touch. Oftentimes Maids are those looked down upon - they are the underdogs who no one ever sings about, no one ever makes murals in their memory, rarely given the kindness and respect they so deeply deserve. 
Yet, it is also the Maid who is meant to be the one to keep order in one fashion or another. They are the ones who clean, after all - whether that cleaning is merely tidying up any dust or grime collected over the years, or the mess leftover by those surrounding the Maid. To be rather blunt, the Maid is one who is underappreciated, as well as underestimated in how large of a part they play in the groups they are a part of. Chances are that a Maid is the reason for countless important, largely defining moments for one or even several people they have come across. Maids leave impacts wherever they go, whether they realize this or not. Much like the scrubbing of a cloth against a wall, the bristles of a broom on a dirty floor, or the gentle feathers on a dusty desk - a Maid will always leave a mark wherever they depart from; good and bad alike.
Although some of what has been described may describe that of a typical, non-Classpect related Maid, those who are bound to this creation Class are ones who go through these similar struggles. The life of a Maid is rarely ever an easy one, as they often will face countless challenges along the way of - to be quite honest - their entire existence. One of the biggest defining struggles of a Maid is their Aspect itself. More specifically, the fact that their Aspect is something that has nearly consumed every last piece of the Maid’s world - themself included. While at first it may seem like a play-on-words for a Maid’s Classpect title to be “Maid of Aspect”, there is an unfortunate truth to such a label; one in which the Maid never truly agreed to in the first place. 
The Maid is one who has a seemingly endless supply of their Aspect to the point where it feels almost inescapable to the Maid themself if they ever wished to get away from it. Down to the Maid’s very own decision making - their Aspect is a weight placed on their back and shoulders from the exact moment they were born, and it is one that has rarely ever seemed to become lighter, no matter what they do. As much of their Aspect they have, it is rarely ever something that truly benefits the Maid. In fact, for some Maids, their Aspect is something that is extremely debilitating - an oppressive force that has its claws dug in deeply into the Maid’s heart and soul. Even an Aspect as seemingly beneficial as Space, Life, Breath, Blood, Light, etc. would have their own downsides to someone as unfortunate as the Maid.
They are someone who could be argued to be at constant war with their Aspect, one side always trying to dominate over the other since, if the Maid is not entirely careful, their Aspect could eventually overthrow them entirely - leaving only a lifeless husk of the Aspect to wander around and serve whoever calls their name. However, that is only one of the struggles that the Maid faces, yet there is no doubt that it is still one of the biggest and most difficult obstacles in their way. Unlike the Prince or Bard who seek to destroy their Aspect yet must instead learn how to destroy through it, or the Knight who must learn how to wield their Aspect like a shield or blade, the Maid is one must learn how to put the excessive amount of their Aspect to good use. Although it appears to be a force that only wishes to oppress and perhaps even damage the Maid, it is still up to them to figure out what exactly they wish to do with it. Unfortunately, they won’t ever be able to truly rid themselves of their Aspect, there is no doubting that. That doesn’t entirely mean they have to simply learn to live alongside such a lingering, almost oppressive force, though. There may be some Maids who do find a purpose for their Aspect, one way or another. 
Of course, there are the variety who don’t wish to even associate with it and may even be afraid to become accidentally, completely submissive to it. In these cases, they will most likely go with the option of ignoring or even running away from any and everything that has to do with their Aspect. Whether it is avoiding discussing it, places or locations that are filled with it, people who are linked to it, etc, there will always be the Maids who will merely try to rebel against it as much as they can. In a way, it could be seen as them running away from the duties and responsibilities tied into their Class. Maids are often a crucial part for any group that has been given the privilege of having one amongst them, after all.
Before heading into the powers of a Maid, and just how they can put the excessive amounts of their Aspect to good use, let’s take a moment to reflect on the social life of a Maid, as well as the overall personality this busy and bustling Class are known to have. Starting off, Maids are those who are quite dedicated to doing what is best - at least in when it falls under the light of what they deem to be the most important. If there is one thing Maids dislike, it is having their time and energy wasted on a job, person, or thing, especially if it all turns out to be pointless in the end. This is often because Maids can become extremely dedicated to anything, as well as anyone, that they put their mind to. Maids tend to enjoy working towards some type of goal, fulfilling a promise, making a dream into reality - these are often the things they will deem as far more important than anything else in their life. However, these things that a Maid views as being the most important and deserving of their care and attention will always take the top of their to-do list, pushing aside anything and anyone else closer towards the bottom. 
When a Maid has chosen to commit themself to a belief, individual, cause, group, task, or what have you, then they will do whatever they can to make sure the end product will always be one of perfection. Details are often a large priority for a Maid, especially when it comes to their own private or personal plans, projects, or otherwise creative endeavors. If there is one thing out of place or not exactly perfect, chances are it will be something that will fester and gnaw away at the Maid’s mind and emotional state until one of two things happen. They will either get to fully delve into their project, perfecting every last nook and cranny of it, or they will become fully enraged that their plan or project has not become the best it could be, and may even go as far as to tear apart or throw out whatever it was that they spent so long working on. Oftentimes, when a Maid puts in so much effort, energy, and time into a project, they inevitably begin to associate their very own worth with that project, seeing it as their sole purpose in life. As such, when their project is incapable of reaching such a state of perfection, what does that say about them? That they are not perfect, but rather flawed, and will never, ever be able nor allowed to reach such a state of perfection? 
As eager as Maids can be in regards to dedicating themselves to something, they are often just as quick to begin neglecting themselves if they deem their own health to be not as important as other chores, tasks, or even people. On the other hand, a Maid may be one to seek out ways to live their personal best life; one of luxury, peace, success, and so much more. In order to do so, however, they will often begin neglecting everything and everyone else around them - including their own Aspect. If they believe that their Aspect is truly holding them back, then they will often invite others to come and take their own bits and pieces of it, if only so that it will allow some temporary peace for the Maid. Little does the Maid know that this is one of the biggest, most self-destructive mistakes to make. That is something to be discussed later. As the Maid builds themself up to be a person of grand appearances, wealth, health, and more, they will only truly be able to achieve this by stepping on the toes, backs, and shoulders of other people and places around them. To simply put it, the Maid is one who could either become the most selfless person in the world, or the most selfish. 
No matter how a Maid may present themself towards the world or even the people they meet, it is best to keep in mind that, in life, there is always a weak point to even the grandest, most breath-taking structures. For the Maid, it should come as no surprise that it is their willingness to help anyone they deem worthy or in need of such care. Although some could merely say it is the friendships and relationships in the Maid’s life that is their weak point, that is a point which assumes every Maid has any relationships - real or otherwise - to speak of. In reality, Maids are those who will often have large, open hearts that tend to steer towards being caring souls. Every Maid has their own soft spot for at least one individual, whether they care to admit it or not. While there is nothing inherently wrong with wanting to help those who are in need of support, mending, or even love, there is a flaw in being a person so quick and eager to be the one who helps anyone who cries loud enough. Give a wild animal some food, and chances are it will come back. Give a person an inch, and they will eventually ask for another, then another, until they have claimed an entire mile. Allow someone into a section of your heart, showing them unconditional love and support, and chances are that someone will inevitably come around and ask for more than what they are already getting. To simply put, the Maid is one who is often a victim of being used by others - their kind, trusting, loving nature being seen as just another slab of rotting meat for vultures to swoop in and peck away at.
Maids will rarely often do anything about this, as their sympathy - or perhaps even empathy - is that which runs extremely deep; coursing through every vein in their body. The longer the Maid allows for such selfish souls to strip away all that they have and all that they are, hoever, and eventually the Maid will be left with nothing to give but the biggest part of their entire person: their Aspect. Yes, even the Aspect of the Maid can fall victim to being mistreated and even abused by those in the Maid’s life. If these vultures see a chance to have it, then they will stop at nothing to sink their talons into its metaphysical flesh, during which the Maid, too, shall suffer greatly. 
Even though the Maid may hold grievances towards their Aspect for all the trouble it has brought them, this force is still a fact of their personality that they simply cannot ignore forever nor allow it to be destroyed, stolen away from them, or manipulated into something it is not meant to be. Although Maids are capable of standing up for and taking care of themselves it’s their lack of confidence - or rather the fear of stepping out of line - that is often what holds them back. Rather, it is their submissive, conflict-avoidant nature that so often lands them in situations of mistreatment. When a Maid has had enough of such a thing, however, there is no doubt that the Maid will make quite the show of declaration that not only have they had enough, but that their services are now closed off to anyone; allies and enemies alike.
Within every songbird is a phoenix, waiting for the fires to come and unleash their true, untameable spirits. Within every Maid is a person waiting for the day where someone will repay their kindness and free them of their shackles. The company in which the Maid finds themself within is often wide and extremely diverse, if only because the Maid is someone who attracts people of all walks of life. Yet as many people as the Maid is happy to know, so comes the stress of having to figure out who is truly a friend and who is merely a wolf hiding amidst the shrouded masses of the Maid’s social group. After all, they are someone who is often prone to falling prey to the gnashing teeth and razor claws of monstrous people, and so it might be likely for them to develop a sense of anxiety or underlying trust issues towards the people around them. On the other hand, they may also be just as quick to dismiss all previous negative, toxic relationships as flukes, mistakes, small errors in their own judgement that will never, ever happen again. The Maid is meant to be perfect, are they not? No perfect being would ever allow such a silly thing to happen over, and over, and over, and over again. If there is anything the Maid is, it would be perfect with no flaws to speak of whatsoever. 
People who are aware of the Maid often are those who are either extremely eager to try and befriend, spoil, and care for the Maid, but there may be just as many who are off-putted and unnerved by the Maid, sometimes finding them, their mannerisms, or their ideologies and philosophies on anything to be perturbing or even downright upsetting. Just as well, there are others who are looking to only use them and their trusting, kind-hearted ways for selfish, twisted reasons that rest within such tainted hearts. Despite all of this, though, the Maid will typically, and simply, sit in the center of it all; appreciating and loving every last person to ever show them kindness and care. If there is one thing for certain amongst most, if not all, Maids, it is that they are more often than not complete and utter hopeless romantics in some fashion or another. Whether this means the poetic, literary type of romance; of love for the innocent, tender, far more natural ways of life, or maybe it is the emotional sense of romance that comes with some variation of attraction. Maids wish to dedicate themselves to something, but they will almost always be wanting to dedicate themselves to someone more than anything else.
When it comes to a group setting, Maids are often those who play a far more neutral role in everything that transpires amongst everyone else. Rarely, if ever, are they the ones to ever start something of great importance. If anything, they are the ones meant to see that everything plays out as it is meant to; maintaining order, coherence and appearance in the greater narrative of it all. If life is a play, then the Maid is often the set designer - the one who pushes every set piece, plot device, etc. into place. Whether this is done by their own want to do so, or if their hand is being forced by someone or something else, this is often something that depends on the Maid and whichever predicament they find themself within. No matter what, though, even when it seems that the Maid is the root cause of one plot point, positive, negative, or otherwise, it is quite likely that they were forced into such a position of center-stage-performance. A director, unseen, pulling the curtains back far too early or turning on a stagelight at the wrong moment. Do not take this as Maids being deemed as unimportant or even disposable, however. On the contrary, Maids are one of the most crucial parts for anything, as well as anyone, to function in a world full of plot holes and loose threads. It is merely that due to their title of Maid, others tend to downplay the dire importance in someone such as them. 
The biggest reason for the Maid’s importance is that of their powers - their abilities to affect and leave grand ripples in wherever they go and whoever they meet. There has often been some debate as to a Maid’s true powers for as long as they have been around. The two biggest powers that stand on the top is that of whether a Maid is one who creates their Aspect, or creates through it, or if they are those who heal their Aspect, or heal through it. Their counterpart Class, Sylph, is one that has been noted to have healing properties. As such, would it not make sense for the Maid to have such powers, as well? Well, personally speaking, the powers of the Maid are much like that of a Knight: far more completed when one tries to put them down on paper. The powers of the Maid are that of someone who creates their Aspect while also capable of healing it, or they can create through their Aspect so that they may heal through it. 
Quite a mouthful, as well as seeming quite convoluted, no? If one were to wish to shorten it or make it far easier to read, then the Maid’s powers are that of merely creating their Aspect, or creating through it. Nevertheless, the reason for this extensive conclusion is merely one question that seemed to pop up when personally pondering the powers of this Class: what is, ultimately, the difference between creating and healing? Is healing not the process of creating something better than before, building up from the rubble of what has been soiled and destroyed? Is creating not healing an empty space where something once was, only to be torn out one way or another?
Let’s take a step back and revisit the fact that Maids are ones whose kind, loving natures are often taken advantage of - used and abused by those far more cruel and selfish in this world. When the Maid, or any of their true friends for that matter, is incapable of keeping their Aspect - and therefore themself - safe from the talons and jagged beaks of those who seek to consume all the Maid has to offer, what will ultimately be left of it; of them? Tatters, ragged clothes, bruises, tears - bloodied and forgotten by those who only sought to tear down the Maid and take away all that they are. A broken person in an even more broken world, with their Aspect left in shreds. 
As much as the Maid may hold hesitance and perhaps even ill-feelings towards such an ingrained part of themself, it would be no different to hating one’s own hands, or their legs, or even their lungs or heart. Their Aspect is as big a part of the Maid, as well as everyone else around them. Because of this,  is just as vulnerable as any other part of these mortal, organic coils. Who is to be the one, then, to come forward and mend what has broken? Who is to be the one who takes charge and heals what has been harmed; to create, heal, and restore balance not only within themself but wherever else the Maid’s Aspect may lie? After all, a Maid’s Aspect is something that completely defines them and their actions just as much as it is a fog that lingers upon everything they encounter throughout their life.
Maids are creators first and foremost, whether it is taking their Aspect - or what is left of it - and creating more of it so as to not only benefit themself but the world around them, or they create through their Aspect, honing in on all of its properties, perspectives, and forms so as to build, restore, and configure whatever they wish or need. The idea that Maids are healers is merely an offshoot of their creative powers, which can occasionally have secondary healing effects on those who are touched by the Maid. A Maid may restore the Hope within another person via creating it, but some could see this as the Maid healing that person’s Hope directly. It is an extremely thin line that the powers of the Maid walk upon, always teetering towards one definition over the other. 
This balancing act is why, personally speaking, Maids will be remarked as those who create their Aspect, or create through it, as their primary power. Any possible healing that comes from these acts of creation is uncommonly an accident, though some may try to claim it more as a miracle than anything else. Let’s not forget, as well, the questions brought up before and their core themes: what is truly the difference between creating and healing? Does the difference truly even matter? For some, yes, it does, but for others, they may be just fine accepting this idea that thematically and in regards to action, there truly is very little that separates the two of them.
As for the journey in which the Maid would go about unlocking these powers, that can become quite an elaborate tale to tell. To give a brief summary here, the Maid’s journey to unlocking their powers is often one of great pain, loss, and suffering that will always force the Maid out of their comfort zone - if they even had one to begin with. To further elaborate, the Maid is one whose life is one marked with struggles, internal or otherwise. Ever since the Maid takes their very first breath of air, their Aspect will latch onto and embed itself throughout the entire Maid’s mind, body, and soul. One could argue that the Aspect is like that of a parasite to the Maid, always taking, taking, and taking, yet rarely ever giving anything back to the Maid. What can be said about this argument is how that is only a slightly accurate description of the relationship between a Maid and their Aspect. If the question being begged in one’s mind is ‘well then, what is the relationship’, one might be slightly disappointed to hear that, as is often the case, it simply depends on the Maid and their circumstances. Ultimately, the relationship between them is an extremely complicated one, but there will always be one thread that runs throughout all of these cases; the ever-looming threat of being totally and utterly consumed by one’s Aspect.
Much akin to Heirs, Maids are those whose Aspects are extremely difficult to shake off. Unlike Heirs, however, who simply drift ever closer to the blackhole that is their Aspect, the Maid is one who has already fallen into some sense of servitude to their Aspect. It is already a force that controls almost everything in their life, whether it is seen in a Maid of Void constantly being overlooked or left with countless secrets, or a Maid of Hope being shoved into a box of rules, standards, and laws for them to play by, or surrounded by countless people, places, and things related to faith and beliefs. The Aspect to a Maid is ever-present, almost to a suffocating extent, and it is one that rarely ever benefits the Maid directly. If anything, the Aspect of a Maid is a force that only seeks to bring torment, harm, and perhaps even death to such an unwilling victim of circumstances. 
Yet as much as their Aspect is something that seeks to harm them, and as much as the Maid may come to despise their Aspect, neither of them could truly exist without the other. At the end of the day, though, a Maid’s Aspect is that which seemingly only wishes to envelop the Maid, making them into a vessel only meant to carry out and fulfill tasks related to their Aspect. This is something that often terrifies Maids, and, as such, they may try to seek out ways to handle such a ravenous beast.
Perhaps some Maids subconsciously seek out destructive people; those who will rip and tear and use up all the resources and energy the Maid has to offer, their Aspect included. Maybe it is simply an unfortunate side effect of their naive, far too loving and kind nature. No matter what, though, there will inevitably come a handful of times throughout the Maid’s life where their gentle, near submissive, way of socializing will be taken hold and advantage of. This will come to happen until, finally, the core of their very being has been revealed for all to see, and the Maid’s Aspect will be shown no mercy. The brightest flower, the freshest and most succulent fruit, the most healthy, bountiful soil, and the most tender of meat is that which will always be torn apart and ravaged the most when it comes to those selfish souls. 
Although the Maid may have thought it good that their Aspect will finally be chopped down like an invasive plant entangling them, suffocating them, a horrific discovery would be awaiting them. As their Aspect is savagely and haphazardly used and abused, exhausted and ragged from a never-ending crescendo of everyone wanting to get their own sliver of Breath, or of Mind, or of Light, there would come a point where the Maid would realize that once all their Aspect has gone, they will have nothing left to offer to those around them. If the Maid were to truly allow for all pieces of their Aspect to be ripped away from them and consumed by these wolves and vultures, then what would be their purpose? Who would see any point in keeping the Maid as a companion if they cannot dazzle everyone with their Aspect and what it holds? Moreover, who would the Maid even be without their Aspect? Who is a Maid if not their entire Aspect, flaws and everything?
If they are to survive, then the Maid cannot allow their hatred and rivalry with their Aspect to persist. As much as it has tried to destroy them - to overtake them and make into a husk - such a similar fate is what awaits the Maid if they are to have every last part of their Aspect picked clean from their soul. The two of them are one in the same - two forces who oppose yet must continue to coexist with one another; especially if neither wishes to be left with a longing sense of emptiness. Because of this, the Maid must not only learn how they and their Aspect can coexist with another, but also how to save both forces from being destroyed for good.
Although some of the Maid’s friends played a part in this act of self defamation, it will also be the Maid’s friends who will help them and their Aspect not only become whole again, but, ultimately, become one. Indeed, the Maid must first learn how they can help to restore their Aspect - create it so as to help fill in the gaping spaces that lack its presence - before learning how to create through it. There are many Maids who see such a long-winded journey as far too daunting, and so they often abide by the ways of only ever creating and restoring their Aspect. For as powerful as it may sound, there still lies that underlying tension and fear of losing themself in their very own Aspect. After all, in order for them to create through their Aspect, they essentially have to swear themself over to its whims, ways, and wires, becoming synchronized and aligned with one another to allow peak performance of power to occur. 
However, those who hide and run away from such power will never be able to truly unlock their full potential, even when it comes to their base powers of creating their Aspect. Never will they be able to fully heal, create, or restore what has been lost of their Aspect, not if they don’t fully submit to it. Even the Maids who know this and still choose not to are often content as is when it comes to their powers. Perhaps it is because they still hold a grudge to those who hurt them, and as such see no reason as to why they should make such a grand sacrifice for a few saps who most likely would never do the same in return. Who is to say other than the Maid themself? Who is to say even the Maid knows the reason for this defiance.
At the end of the day, the base power to create their Aspect is one meant to heal their Aspect. Oftentimes, though, they do end up playing the role of a healer to those around them, as well. The longer the Maid creates and heals their Aspect, the more they will come to realize how truly important they are to not only the people around them, but in the grander schemes of everything, as well. 
By creating their Aspect, the Maid is one who manages to maintain the balance needed for everything, and everyone, to function and grow. They are the ones who make certain every last domino falls, exactly as it needs to be. Whenever there is a hole to be filled, chances are that the Maid will do that job well, if only in a rather arbitrary and seemingly convoluted way of doing so. Such a thing is not uncommon for Maids, though, as they do often show themselves to be either victims of outside forces - often ones far out of their own control - or they are ones who orchestrate such a thing; going against the grain as they see fit. 
Their minds are ones of grand creativity, and their powers are ones most certainly meant to accentuate such a trait. Even if a Maid never ventures further on their path of creation, even the base power of creating their Aspect is one that can surely evolve into something extremely grandiose. A Maid of Doom capable of wiping out or rooting away a hundred mile radius of any life with a wave of their hand, a Maid of Breath creating a storm so disastrous it could rip away entire mountains, or even a Maid of Hope who can bring back a lawful and justified balance; soothing whatever rageful beasts may be surrounding them. The Maid and their Aspect have always meant to work side by side, beneficiaries to one another; when such synchrony has even been partially fulfilled, the Maid is one who can prove themself to be quite the daunting force to behold.
Once the Maid has proven themself well equipped in their power of creation, so will come the moment where they can decide whether they wish to further their power or not. To become one with their Aspect, to create through it, is a power not many Maids may wish to partake in as spoken of before. However, for the ones who do take up this challenge, knowing the risks that may come in their possible failure, they are the ones who will not only truly know their Aspect, but will act as a type of ambassador for it. They will represent all that their Aspect is - the good, and the bad - in order to become one of the finest creators of their time.
By creating their Aspect, there may come a time where the Maid finds themself to once again have an excessive amount of it. It is through this excess that the Maid will find their power of creating through it; honing in on what has bubbled over the brim of the pot, the Maid will be able to create whatever they wish from such concentrated amounts of their Aspect. Through stardust itself, a Maid of Space could create what they wish - or what they need, a Maid of Mind could use their ability to foresee consequences of actions to create the ultimate battle strategy, or a Maid of Time could create a perfectly synced series of events across countless timelines; dominoes falling until they make the final push that allows for the Alpha Timeline to continue pushing forward.
To create through one’s Aspect is to use all that is, was, and ever will be to one’s advantage. However, much like their base power of simply creating their Aspect, these actions tend to have an odd offshoot, or rather side effect, of healing to them. When a Maid creates their Aspect, they may unknowingly be healing someone that they never even considered to be in need of such a service. The same goes for the Maids who create through their Aspect, though this can be one on a far broader, or perhaps even more personal, scale. After all, when creating through one’s Aspect, it is often an action that requires a more direct approach from the Maid. No longer do they sweep the halls or dust the artifacts of a castle, but they now have a far better say as to what happens in the castle; they have more control over it. Although they will never reach the levels of control that a Muse or Lord holds over the castle that is their Aspect, they most certainly are ones who hold the ability to come close to such power.
The role of a Maid is one of great importance, yet also one often looked over. They are the ones who help to bring and maintain balance in a group, no matter how many conflicts seem to threaten the stability of it all. Although such a task is one that often calls upon their powers of creation to be used, and still be given very little reward for their efforts, such a fact is one that the Maid can learn to live with. Of course, there may be moments of hot-headedness from the Maid when it comes to their efforts of healing and creating being unacknowledged, but so is often the life of the Creative Classes. After all, some of the best creators are those who were rarely truly appreciated during their time of life.
A Maid is a healer, creator, and a cleaner. They are meant to fix what has been broken, polish what has become rusted, grimy, or smudged, and, most importantly, love what has been neglected. Their Aspect was once left in such a state of disrepair, and the Maid is not one afraid to admit that it was by their own hand. Becoming lost in pettiness, hatred, and fear is often problem the Maid is known to have. It is only when they enter such a state of mind that not only themself, but other things and peoples around them will begin to truly suffer and descend into a state of disarray. After all, when the bringer of balance no longer does their job, who is going to be the one to look after the castle and the people who reside in its kingdom? Perhaps the Knight, though they are most certainly not ones meant to clean things up.
No, a group without a Maid, or at least one who does not play their part, is most certainly a group destined to be filled with many moments of internal and external strife, complications, and struggles. Considering the nature of the Maid, and how people are often drawn towards them, chances are that the Maid will most likely find at least one or a few people within the group worth the time and energy in healing whatever they lack of the Maid’s Aspect. After all, even the most stubborn Maids will always have their weak points - those bleeding hearts inside of their chests - and there will always be the people they simply cannot say no to, for better or for worse.
Ultimately, though, a Maid is someone who merely looks towards doing the right thing - even if that “right thing” holds questionable morals in order to achieve it. Maids can be excellent friends and allies to have, primarily due to their dedicated nature. While at first they may have been more than ready to put someone in front of themself and their Aspect, the Maid has learned through all of the hardships and trauma from such self-destructive actions that, truly, if one wishes to be the change in other people’s lives, or even the world, they must first change how they treat themself, flaws and everything. They have learned that in order to see the true value and worth in everything and everyone, they must first value themself and their Aspect.
Once they manage to climb over this obstacle that is their hatred and/or fear of their Aspect, they will manage to see the good in not only it, but also themself. When they achieve this state of realization will they be allowed to begin their own journey of personal healing. Such a journey will be long, and at times seemingly treacherous. As long as the Maid keeps to the path that they set forth themself, then it will be their true self that will be there to greet them. When they shake hands, they will finally become the mystical, magical mender they were born to be. For it is not the Witch who sews the clothes and relationships when they have become torn and ragged, it is not the Bard who keeps everything in order and equally distributed, and it is not the Thief who is capable of restoring what once seemed lost and forgotten. No, it is the Maid who does this, and it is why they are one of the most important players out of any of them.
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nightshade-minho · 4 years ago
Text
-Blue Book- (2)
Word Count: 1.4k
Warnings: the boys are kind of assholes in this, as most immature high school boys are. mentions of alcohol.
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The next day, Chan combed through the hallways of the school, but every time he caught a glimpse of you, you'd disappear in a second.
As the school day came to a close, Chan winced as he felt someone slap his back- he turned around to see Jisung grinning widely at him, throwing his arm around his shoulder.
"How's the little quest going?"
Chan shrugged his arm off, gritting his teeth. "Just perfect." He sighed, exhausted after the day he'd had. He couldn't be bothered to do any more searching. All he wanted to do was go home and take a nice bath, maybe watch some TV and fall asleep on the couch.
"I think I'll just go home."
"Um...you sure about that?" Jisung raised an eyebrow, as he stared past Chan.
"What are you looking a-" Chan frowned, turning and following Jisung's gaze.
What he saw made his blood boil. Miyoung was standing against her locker, pressed against it by none other than Lee fucking Minho himself. He leaned over her, whispering something in her ear that made her giggle loudly.
Chan clenched his fists as Minho looked up, staring right at him. He gave him a smirk, turning back to wink at Miyoung before making his way over to the two boys.
"I'm going to fucking kill you."
"Hey, we had a deal, didn't we? Let's see the book."
"Wow. You're so mature."
Jisung rolled his eyes. "Please don't start fighting here, I don't want to be caught in between this...this battle of the alphas." His eyes widened as he saw Seungmin, Felix and Jeongin across the hall, beckoning them over quickly. "Thank God, sane people."
As the three made their way over, Chan tried to quell the jealousy rising in him. He knew Minho had zero interest in Miyoung. It enraged him, knowing he was only doing this to irritate him.
"So, hyung? Did you ask the nerd out, yet?"
"Not yet." He said, sighing. He was so done with all of this.
Suddenly out of the corner of his eye, he noticed you as you quickly walked to the exit.
"Fuck- guys, I'll be back."
Minho followed his gaze to you, chuckling. "Ah, wonderful. Go get her, tiger." He mocked.
"Tell us how it goes, okay, Chan?" Changbin spoke up, appearing out of nowhere along with Hyunjin. "Remember, Felix's basement at 8."
"Yeah, yeah." Chan pushed the boys aside as he made his way over to you quickly, walking as fast as he possibly could.
"Hey! Y/n!"
You stopped in your tracks as you heard his voice, slowly turning around.
"Oh...it's you..."
"Yeah it's me...listen, I was wondering if I could ask you something-"
"Umm..." you bounced from one foot to another. "I'm kind of in a hurry right now."
"Oh-"
"But it's fine! You can ask, just make it quick." You bit your lip.
"Um, well...I was wondering if you're free...maybe we could hang out?" He asked, faking slight nervousness.
Your cheeks heated up as your brain processed what he was saying. You couldn't believe this was happening. Looking past him, you noticed his group of friends, some of them not-so-subtly watching the two of you, others looking like they didn't give a single fuck.
"I...your friends look like they're waiting for you."
"My- what?" He turned around a little, sending a sharp frown their way. Turning back to you, he smiled. "It's okay, they're okay."
"Well...I was actually going to the park again, to sketch. The sun will set soon...Which is kind of why I was in a hurry." You said shyly.
Chan tilted his head, smiling. "Hm, mind if I tag along?"
"Uh yeah sure, okay..." you smiled as he grinned.
"Lead the way."
***
You sat on the same bench as yesterday, using colour pencils you had tucked into your saddlebag to recreate the beautiful sunset in front of you on paper.
The sky looked like a bruised mango, all oranges and pinks. It was really pretty. Chan watched in silence as you drew, occasionally looking up to observe the scene in front of you.
"I don't think I've ever sat down somewhere and watched the sun set." He mused, staring at your side profile.
"Well, there's a first time for everything..." you said softly, looking up briefly at him.
"Yeah...I agree." He said, leaning back against the back of the bench. "How long have you been drawing?" It was really hard pretending to be interested in you, but Chan reminded himself that it wasn't that painful of a task, especially if Miyoung was the reward.
"Ever since I was a little girl." You said, smiling as the lead of your pencil scratched against paper. "I consider it very therapeutic. I draw because...it captures a moment forever. You know, people blaze through life too quickly. They don't usually realize how precious something is until it's gone..."
Chan slowly tuned you out as a vision filled his brain. Him and Miyoung, having their first dance as prom king and prom queen...A stupid, lovesick smile adorned his face as he thought about how pretty she would look, how soft her waist would feel under his hand. Maybe if he was lucky enough, the night would end with her under him...
"...Anyway, that's how I feel. What do you think?"
Chan snapped back to attention, eyes fixed on you as you faced your paper.
"Um, yeah. I agree with everything you said." He nodded, trying to sound convincing. You looked up at him and gave him an incredibly sweet smile, catching him off guard for a second.
"That's nice to know. People...people don't usually agree with me. I mean, they barely listen in the first place. I guess I'm just not interesting enough." You shrugged.
Chan sighed, shifting a little closer hesitantly. God, he truly had no idea how to respond to something like that. So he said what he thought you would like to hear.
"You're very interesting, Y/n, and...I really like you. Don't say stuff like that about yourself. People are just too stupid to realize what they're missing." He said gently, his finger under your chin as he made you look up at him.
You felt your cheeks burn as you avoided eye contact, his words melting you. No one had ever said anything so kind to you.
"Look at me, princess." You obeyed him slowly, eyes travelling to his.
"You have such pretty eyes..." Not as pretty as Miyoung's, but they were alright.
You let out a soft giggle as you looked up at him. "Chan..."
"Yeah...?"
"Thank you." You said softly.
"For what?"
"Um...for being here, I guess. When you could be with anyone else, anywhere else." You said, sniffing a little. "Thanks for being the first person to show interest in me since I got here." You said, a slight edge of vulnerability to your otherwise even tone.
He almost felt bad.
***
"She's wrapped around my finger. Told you guys I could do it."
"Then where's the book?" Minho asked, an amused curl to his lips as he sipped on his beer.
"Well..I don't have it yet. But I will, soon. If she's already so whipped in a day, I'm sure she'll trust me enough in a few more."
Seungmin leaned back, setting down his book for a second. "What exactly makes you think she's so whipped for you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
Chan rolled his eyes. "It's quite obvious." He sat up a little straighter as he continued talking, regaling them with the events of that afternoon. As Chan finished speaking, Felix spoke up.
"This is cruel." He pointed out.
"You're such a softie." Hyunjin muttered, snatching his can from Jeongin.
"It's called having a heart. Something which, apparently, none of you have."
"Look, if you hate us so much, no one's really forcing you to stay. Besides, if you care so much about her, maybe you should have spoken up before." Minho snapped.
"I actually kind of get where Felix is coming from..." Jeongin said softly.
The sounds of bickering quickly erupted as Chan tuned them out again, a skill which he seemed to be perfecting that day.
He thought about the sincerity in your eyes when you talked about...whatever you had been talking about. The slightest pang of an unfamiliar emotion struck his heart and he frowned, pushing it away.
He just had to stick through this for another few days, and then Miyoung would be all his.
He couldn't wait.
265 notes · View notes
intonerofjustice · 3 years ago
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Going back home shouldn’t have been much of a problem. All she had to do was reach the bus stop to take the public transportation to bring her home- despite being one of the few sisters that knew how to drive a car, Envi preferred to go by bus when driving wasn’t necessary.
It was a weekly routine, going out of class every day before lunch’s time, but something made her stop that day.
As the girl walked down the street, she passed in front of one of the many alleys that formed in-between the buildings, but she had the luck of hearing a small yell coming from a woman, one that called for help before her voice got completely muffled.
When looking in the direction of the alley, at the end of this one, the brunette noticed a man trying to sneak around the corner to not be seen, so, of course, Envi had to check on that. Perhaps she would have the chance of helping someone innocent away from something really horrible...
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Without thinking much about it, the green-eyed girl rushed through the alley, then throwing her bag aside the moment she noticed the man and the girl. As expected, the stranger made sure to cover the mouth of the woman, and only God knows what he intended to do to her.
No...Envi could make an idea of what he wanted to do, and if anything, that just angered the brunette even more so.
“Let her go this instant.” She said, with obvious spite and anger in her tone. Yet, the man looked down at her, laughing softly and unable to take her seriously, perhaps because of her size.
At the very least, the guy let the other woman go, now turning around to look at Envi better.
“Alright, pipsqueak. And what do you intend to do to me? Call the cops?” The brunette’s gaze ended upon the woman, although it didn’t take long for her to look back at the man; her frown deepening.
Using the element of surprise first, Envi suddenly threw a kick to the man’s crotch, and when he covered the place with both of his hands while groaning in pain, the brunette used one of her feet and the lower side of her leg to force him to trip, making the man fall on his back against the ground.
At this point, the woman from before was covering her mouth to keep herself from making any sounds, but she stared at Envi with some relief.
“T-Thank you!...how can I repay-...” Before the relieved woman could say anything else, though, the green-eyed girl walked to the man and straddled him against the floor with her own weight and strength, and then she started to throw a punch at his face.
And then another.
And another...and another.
This wasn’t just an intervention for justice anymore. It was obvious that Envi was punching the man with rage and spite.
He was helpless, begging for her to stop as his nose and some teeth got broken- as his blood stained her hands and the collar of her clothes...as his trembling arms tried to stop the enraged girl but to no avail.
The woman now looked at the scene even more horrified than before, but covering her mouth once again and even if with trembling legs, she ran away, far away from them.
Well, at least she was safe.
Panting, Envi finally let the man go, standing up while her hands also trembled, now covered in blood.
At least...he was still alive, even if the brunette had to hold herself back from not just ending his life here. She really just, wanted to do it.
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“Try to abuse anyone like that again, and next time I catch you I will send your remains to the fucking graveyard in a trash bag.”
Spitting on him while she stood there, Envi would then walk to her bag, before taking it and trying to clean as much blood as she could off herself while she walked out of the alley.
Smiling widely, the girl mused out loud, really proud of herself.
“And justice has been served.”
Ah, well. Better to pass by a fountain before getting on the bus or something. Hopefully no one at home will ask about the stains.
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celestialvoid-fanfiction · 4 years ago
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I really want a sterek scene stealer AU that’s the episode of Star Trek: Voyager, Blood Fever (Season 3 Episode 16). Derek would be B'Elanna – a half-Klingon who finds himself experiencing symptoms of the Pon farr (a point in a Vulcan’s life where their disciplined logic is overwhelmed by emotion and instinct as they’re driven to return to Vulcan and take a mate) after being mentally bound to a young Vulcan – Jennifer Blake – who’s undergoing it. Stiles would be Lieutenant Parris, a human who everyone thinks is cocky and a womanizer, but he’s been hiding his feelings for Derek for a long time.
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They make their way down to a planet to collect gallicite when the side effects of the Pon farr begin to take its toll on Derek; he becomes irritated and aggressive.
As the away team – Derek, Stiles and Scott – go rig up their gear and descend into the caverns and collapsed tunnels, Scott’s piton gives way and he falls. Derek and Stiles hurry down after him. Derek loses it, he starts shouting at Scott for being irresponsible but Stiles argues that Scott did nothing wrong; either the gear was faulty or the rock gave way. He says they should contact the ship, but Derek is determined to finish the mission – his anger growing – and when Stiles reaches out to stop him, Derek wheels around and bites Stiles’ cheek before taking off into the tunnels.
Stiles contacts the ship and tells them what happened.
“He’s either out of communications range or just not responding,” Stiles says. “His last known position was ten meters below our current position. I tried to stop him from leaving, Captain, but he got hostile and bit me.”
“He bit you?” Commander Parrish repeats, stunned.
“And he seemed to be enjoying it, in a Klingon kind of way.”
Boyd – another Vulcan on the ship – deduces what’s happened. He and Commander Parrish beam down to the planet to help get Scott medical treatment before going after Derek.
Boyd explains that the Pon farr can be fatal if the urges are not addressed, they set out after Derek—he’s after the gallicite, so they hope that following it will lead them to Derek.
Stiles is the first to find Derek, and when he does, he seems his normal self for a moment; not angry or irritated, but excited to have found the resources they came for.
“How are you feeling, Lieutenant?” Boyd asks, approaching Derek carefully.
“Fine.”
“We need to get you back to the ship,” Commander Parrish says.
“Why?”
“You are experiencing a condition known as Pon farr,” Boyd explained.
“Pon what?”
“Your emotional balance has been disrupted. You may not be in control of your more aggressive instincts.”
“I lost my temper for a moment, that’s all,” Derek said. He glances between them noticing the urgency and worry in their eyes. “Why are you all looking at me like that?”
“Please come back to the ship with us,” Boyd says, insistent. He takes a step forward.
“Just leave me alone!”
They freeze as members of an alien species step out of the shadows.
Parrish is able to calm them down, explaining they have no ill-intent, but the alien nods towards Derek. “He does.”
“He’s suffering from a chemical imbalance which is effecting his behaviour,” Parrish explains. “We’d be happy to take him and leave your territory.”
But before they can react, Derek lashes out, fighting off one of the aliens.
“Derek, stop!” Stiles says, grabbing Derek by the shoulder.
The two fall to the ground.
The cave walls rumble and the earth beneath them shakes.
Stiles looks up to see the ceiling crumbling.
“Derek!” he shouts, grabbing him and pulling him aside as the walls cave in and the ground falls from beneath them. When the dust settles, it’s just Stiles and Derek.
Stiles steadies Derek, checking on him. He has a cut on his arm and his head, but he’s conscious.
“We have to get back to the ship,” Stiles says.
“We can’t leave Boyd and Parrish down here,” Derek argues.
“The minerals in the walls inhibit the tricorders; we can’t scan for life signs or a way out. Out best chance is to get back to the ship and get some help, for them and for you.”
“Why does everybody keep saying there’s something wrong with me?”
Stiles does his best to explain what’s happening as they make their way through the tunnels, trying to get back to the surface.
“Boyd’s got to be wrong about this. It doesn’t make sense,” Derek argues.
“It does explain how you’ve been acting,” Stiles counters.
“I don’t see what’s so strange,” Derek says defensively.
“How about starting a fight with a group of armed aliens, shouting at Scott, giving me this—” He points at his cheek which is still bloodied from where Derek had bit him. “—and if I remember my Klingon customs correctly, biting someone on the face means—”
“I know what it means,” Derek cuts him off. 
It’s a way of a Klingon choosing a mate, he thinks. 
“Alright. Maybe I do feel something, some kind of instinct. What am I supposed to do about it?”
“When we get back to the ship, the doctor should be able to help,” Stiles reassures him.
Derek stops at a dead end, positioning the butt of the rifle into his shoulder and aiming at the rock.
“Whoa!” Stiles says, grabbing the end of the rifle and pointing it down—stopping Derek from firing. “We don't know how stable this tunnel is. An energy blast might bring the rest of it down on our heads.”
“Let go!” Derek growls, trying to pull the rifle out of Stiles’ grip, but Stiles resists him, taking the rifle.
“No. I think I should keep this.”
Derek tightens his grip on it, jerking it to the side and throwing Stiles back against the rocky wall, pinning him there.
“Never pick a fight with a Klingon, Stiles.”
“I'm not going to fight with you, Derek,” Stiles says, keeping his voice level and calm.
Derek’s voice is low, threatening; his eyes dark and filled with bloodlust. “Afraid I'll break your arm? You should be.”
“Derek, stop it! This isn't about the gun. This is about sex. But that's not gonna happen right now.”
A smirk turns up Derek’s lips as he leans in close and breathlessly says, “I think it is. See, I have picked up your scent, Stiles. I've tasted your blood.”
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“No,” Stiles says firmly. “I'm your friend, and I have to watch out for you when your judgement's been impaired. If you let these instincts take over now, you'll hate yourself, and me too for taking advantage of you. I won't do that.”
Derek pulls back. “Maybe we should split up.”
“No.”
“You don't know how strong, how hard it is to fight this urge.”
“Are you telling me that I'm impossible to resist?” Stiles says teasingly.
Derek levels him with an unamused look. “I wouldn't go that far.”
“Good. Come on.”
They continue on down the tunnels. The walls start to rumble again.
Stiles pulls Derek into a small cavern, just as the tunnel caves in behind them, trapping them.
“We should use that weapon. It's worth the risk now,” Derek says.
“I might agree with you if I still had it. It's buried somewhere under all that,” Stiles says, nodding towards the caved in tunnel.
“What?”
“Sorry. Try to stay calm. I know it's hard.”
“You don't know anything. I feel like I'm crawling out of my skin. I need to do something. I can't take this.”
He pushes Stiles to the ground, straddling him.
Stiles pushes him off, standing up.
“You've never been hard to get, Stiles,” Derek said, rising to his feet.
“Well, I'm making an exception. I can't let you do this.”
“Oh, I bet you wish you could. All those invitations to dinner. And on the holodeck, the way you would stare at me when you thought I wasn't looking, and get jealous when I'm with someone else. You can't tell me you're not interested in me.”
“You're right. I can't,” Stiles admits.
“Then don't push me away,” Derek whispers, stepping closer to Stiles.
“Oh, believe me, I'd like to, but I know this isn't really you. You've made it clear that you're not interested, and I have to accept that's how you feel, even now.”
“No,” Derek said quietly. “No, it isn't… I was just afraid to admit it… I've wanted this for so long.”
He leans forward, bringing their lips together.
“Just let it happen,” Derek whispers as he pulls back from the kiss slightly.
He tilts his head, deepening the kiss. Stiles walks him back until Derek’s back is pressed against the cavern wall. He slowly draws back from the kiss, his face still close to Derek’s and his voice barely more than a whisper as he says, “I hope someday you'll say that to me and mean it.”
Derek shoves him back, enraged. “You'd let me go insane rather than help me?”
“You know that's not true.”
“Just stay away from me,” Derek shouts, sinking down to the floor and curling up in the corner.
A little while later, Derek lifts his head, looking around. His voice is quiet, confused, as he asks, “Where are we?”
“Still stuck in the cave, I'm afraid,” Stiles tells him.
“The cave?” Derek tries to think. “The gallicite. Where's my tricorder?”
“We're not looking for the gallicite anymore. We're trying to get back to the ship, remember?” Stiles prompts, his voice soft and calming.
Derek looks even more confused. “No, I don't.”
There’s a loud crash as one of the large rocks falls away from the wall. Stiles steps away from Derek, helping whoever it is on the other side push aside the rocks.
Parrish’s face appears in the hole. “Are you two alright?”
“Derek needs help. We've got to get him out of here.”
Once they’re back on the surface, they try to contact the ship, but there’s no response.
“There must be some kind of communications problem. I'm sure they'll clear it up soon,” Parrish says.
Boyd looks at Derek. “It may not be soon enough. I am concerned about the rapid progression of his symptoms.” He looks at Stiles. “You must help him now, Mister Stilinski. If he does not resolve the Pon farr, he will die.”
Stiles lets out a sigh. Parrish and Boyd leave them alone. Stiles walks over to where Derek’s sitting, huddled near the entrance of the cave. He kneels before him.
“Derek, I know this is a pretty bizarre situation, probably not what either one of us had in mind, but it's too late to worry about that now.”
“Stiles,” Derek interrupts.
“Yeah?”
“Be quiet.”
Derek takes Stiles’ hand and leads him into the underbrush. In a small clearing, Derek pulls Stiles close, brushing his face against Stiles’ wrist to feel his pulse before nuzzling his face into Stiles’ neck.
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“Is this the part where you throw heavy objects at me?” Stiles says teasingly.
“Maybe later,” Derek mutters, his voice slurred as he loses himself in the moment.
“I'm not sure exactly what I'm supposed to do,” Stiles admits, but when Derek doesn’t respond, he mirrors Derek’s actions, taking Derek’s hand in his and brushing his lips against his wrist before burying his face in the curve of Derek’s neck, letting out a low, animalistic growl.
Derek throws Stiles to the ground, straddling him and pinning his hands above his head.
Stiles doesn’t resist.
Derek looks confused. “What are you doing?”
“Enjoying myself?” Stiles replies.
“Then show it.”
Stiles smirks, flipping Derek on his back and pinning him to the ground. They roll around, struggling the way Klingons do when a branch snaps and a familiar voice shouts, “You are my mate, not his!”
“What are you doing here?” Derek shouts, glaring at Jennifer as he and Stiles rise to their feet. Stiles steadies Derek, the man weakened by the Pon farr.
“I've come to claim you, to fulfil our bond, and if necessary, to face my rival,” she says, glaring at Stiles.
Parrish and Boyd step into the clearing, following the sound of shouting.
“I declare Koon-ut-kal-if-fee,” Jennifer announces.
“The ritual challenge,” Boyd explains. “She intends to fight to win her mate.”
“You want a fight? You've got one,” Stiles challenged.
“Hold on, Stiles. There's not going to be any challenge,” Parrish says calmly, stepping between them. “Are you responsible for the ship being out of contact?” he asks Jennifer.
“It was necessary to disable the communications, transporters and shuttles,” she says. “No one will keep me from my mate.”
“I am not your mate!” Derek growls.
“We will soon decide that.”
“If anyone is going to smash your arrogant little face in, I will! I take your challenge myself.”
Parrish and Stiles look to Boyd.
“She has the right to choose her own defender, even herself,” he says. “Both must resolve their Pon farr before it kills them. I see no alternative but to follow Vulcan tradition.”
“Alright,” Parrish reluctantly agrees.
Derek and Jennifer fight. They’re evenly matched—throwing punches and kicks. The two fall to the ground, wrestling and struggling as they exchange blows until finally Jennifer collapses, unable to get up. Derek staggers back, completely disorientated. He falls into Stiles’ arms.
“Is it over?” Stiles asks, worried.
“The blood fever has been purged,” Boyd says. “It is over.”
   Later, once Derek has recovered, they return to their duties. Derek is in the turbolift as the doors open for Stiles.
Stiles steps into the turbolift, the awkward tension filling the air.
“Looks like you’re feeling better,” Stiles says, trying to break the awkward silence. “Back on duty?”
“I’m fine, thanks,” Derek says. “And yes. The warp coils should be good as new by the end of the week.
“Oh, good. Glad to hear it.” He pauses. “Computer, halt turbolift.”
The turbolift stops.
Stiles turns to Derek. “Look, this is ridiculous. We are going to be together on this ship for a long time.”
“You're right. We have to pretend that the whole thing didn't happen.”
“But something did happen, Derek.”
“Look, Stiles, I really appreciate what you did—what you were willing to do—for me. But as far as I'm concerned, I was under the influence of some weird Vulcan chemical imbalance, and, and whatever I did, whatever I said, it wasn't me.”
“Yeah, I know. You're afraid that your big, scary Klingon side might have been showing. Well, I saw it up close, and you know, it wasn't so terrible. In fact, I wouldn't mind seeing it again someday.” He turns away, hiding his smirk as he says, “Computer, resume.”
The turbolift slows. The doors open and Derek steps out.
“Careful what you wish for, Lieutenant,” he says over his shoulder, leaving Stiles stunned as the turbolift doors close.
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seb-owns-these-tatas · 4 years ago
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Holy Milkshake (Walter Marshall x you) (with visuals)
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MASTERLIST BLOG
Characters: Walter Marshall x You
Summary: For you, ‘taking the sinner to church’ would be possible. But, not for Walter. He knew everything about you, even with the way you think that he’d taken methods of setting up a tracking device to follow you; getting him infuriated to see you having a ‘little date’ with the stalker who has murdered his exes. 
Warnings: Blasphemy. A twisted stalker. Reader being sly, also naughty and not asking Marshall for help. Date rape drugs mentioned. Suggestive content in the end. Ahem. The use of the word brat. OC named Vergil. You can imagine whoever you want for Vergil. 
Words: 1,5k +
A/N: OOF! PAPA BEAR MARSHALL! This is my first oneshot/drabble for him! I’m sorry if this look rushed! I’ve written this for only an hour and a half. This was supposed to be a drabble, but..Surprise! Ahe! I was inspired by the GIF collection of Demivampirew, which resulted for a oneshot. Mwohahahaha.I don’t even know how it ended up with Marshall sounding like a zaddy in this one. Oof!
Taglist: @fangirl-inthe-us​ @rahdaleigh​ 
REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE IT A LIKE, IF YOU’VE LIKED THIS SHORT ONESHOT! THANK YOU! 
Disclaimer: PNG’s used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. Credits to Demivampirew for the GIF collection. 
MY WORKS ARE NOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!
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Banana fudge milkshake.
It surprisingly tasted too sugary with every sip as your friend chattered for about an hour already since the moment you agreed on the so-called date you despise of.
The drink piped through the pillows of your lips. Your mouth wrapped on the red and white striped straw that didn't help the slight quiver of your mouth; used as a pacifier to soothe those agitated nerves you had as you were sitting before the 'friend' you thought who had no malicious intentions.
Maybe, it was a bad idea to never inform your boyfriend who could maintain the rounds of psychotic men with handcuffs and rails as a way of dealing the whole rendezvous you've planned to make.
Everything was going smooth. Probably, only an ounce of squeezed up faith as you could see the light and where this was going. If only you could start and try to slide in the conversation he somehow didn't want you to interrupt on; talking about how he was so happy to have a date with you, all those bullshit of beating around the bushes then the real discussion will surely go north.
Until, you've seen that familiar sweater who slid on to the chair beside the criminal named Vergil; the whole 'take the sinner to church' was definitely traveling down south to jail because of his sudden appearance.
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You've choked on your own milkshake and coughed out some that went straight to your throat at the image of your tired, roughly bearded, curly haired police officer; sitting his sinewy, wide back on the chair with a tight, disappointed frown.
Well, someone looks mad.
"You're one word away from being tackled to the ground," the man beside him jumped from his interruption, making the chair shriek from being shocked at seeing Marshall sat beside him, all brooding and serious.
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It was an ear-piercing sound that caught some of the diner's attention. You've given them a tight lipped smile before they went on to their daily activities and conversations inside the restaurant as you looked rather safe especially that Marshall was already with you.
Your boyfriend continued to give you a glare, his perspective solely on what he was seeing in front of him. His precious little lady sitting in the same table with her perverted stalker. He definitely couldn't believe that you've taken it too far, trying to help this person to change when it needed stones and brutal punishments or long life realizations for a rotten man like Vergil.
Walter was undoubtedly disappointed and furious.
His bright Cerulean eyes were sharp, brutal and piercing as he continued to focus on you, "Your car has multiple bags of heroin and drugs that can tranquilize people if taken in enough dosage---fucking date rape drugs," though, the message was sent to Vergil who was beginning to shit bricks as soon as he'd seen the gun tucked in Marshall's pants.
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Walter grabbed onto his hand cuffs, abruptly throwing them on the table as he continued to spit fire. Shoulders tense and his expressions livid, "It's either you put these on," he hissed after throwing the cuffs towards Vergil, his eyes fixated on you as it was silently telling you how displeased he was for your acts, "---or I'll do it myself. But, you'll regret it."
You've let out a sigh. Deep inside, you were relieved because he would save you from Vergil's annoying chatters but somehow irked to know he had you tracked or have given you a tracking device to soothe his protective and utmost crazy antics for trying to keep you safe; out of harms way.
"You were following me, Lovey. Where's the tracking device?"
Your boyfriend gave you a scornful, tight lipped smile. A sudden change of his features that got your heart racing on how attractive he still was for getting his pants in a twist from your shenanigans.
"Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
A grin was sent to him, "My milkshake brings all the boys to my yard?" and you couldn't help but motion for both men who sat before you with Vergil obviously trying hard to think of an escape plan.
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He'd faintly shook his head in sheer disappointment.
"Funny." Walter gave a sluggish, nonchalant response as he rolled off his shoulders, leaning his crossed arms on the table as his anger was boiling in a temperature that tells; you were in a much more danger than having lunch with your stalker, "This guy over here---" he gave a curt nod to his side, "---This perverted asshole has retrieved belongings from you---some definitely personal items and you think he'll read a bible or repent over the women he killed if you calmly tell him all about it?"
You fidgeted and chewed the straw in your mouth, watching Walter seethe and heavily sigh from your response, "People change."
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"Not dumbfucks like him, sweetheart." he spat, jaw clenching to the extent of seeing the muscles in his neck strain.
Marshall briefly gave him a glimpse as he called out the elephant in the room, quickly regretting because of how he wanted him to rot in the jail for years or forever, "---Don't you, Vergil?"
Vergil began to shake his leg as he sat, nervous and utterly anxious for what was about to come. His face turned red in rage, breathing staggered as he gave you glare; feeling betrayed when he should've been scared for his life because you knew his secretive, twisted habits. Stalking his target, knowing their houses and where they lived, grabbing onto personal things that his target loved using or wearing; panties, bras and those sorts before finding ways to befriend you till he could manipulate and end up loving you up until the point that he could kill for you.
The toxic type of love that seemed to be out of hand in which he has murdered his exes due to jealousy and other unreasonable explanations.
"I knew it! I fucking knew you were plotting this whole fucking thing with your fucking bodyguard over here---"
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Marshall gave him a grumpy retort, "Boyfriend is a much more better term,"
Vergil's forehead was popping out veins as he exclaimed, thoroughly in fury for what you've brought him in, "Your boyfriend's part of the police force!"
You languidly blinked back, sipping on the last bits of your milkshake. Did he really not know that he was part of the police force? you puckered your lips at the silent thought; droning as you went on in admiring how you've raised Walter's hackles.
"---He cares and just loves me too much. He followed me. Didn't text him, tho. But, I assure you. He's no twisted stalker like you, Vergil. You certainly need to rot in hell,"
Walter knew you were liking this whole safeguard thing. It was all an act from you because he could see the tiny flicker of mockery in those beautiful eyes; knowing that you've gotten under his skin from the sudden tea party you've worked on.
Though, a pity party for you.
Walter gave him a glance, nodding towards the door where two police officers stood and waited for the catch, "Now, you'll meet two men out on the threshold. In less than one minute, if you're still here planning on kowtowing to lessen the punishments then you're a dunce."
Your boyfriend eyed him sternly, motioning for the handcuffs that rested on the table; saying its hello to its new capture, "What will---what---"
Vergil stammered and shakily took the handcuffs in front of him, scoffing when he heard Marshall grumble with a knowing tone of his that poured a little bit of his accent.
"You're under arrest for fuck's sake. Not quite complicated to understand, isn't it?"
Once the stalker was out of sight, being harshly taken by your boyfriend's co-workers; you couldn't help but emit a shaky breath, palms sweating a lot more than it ever did when Vergil was around because this time you were enthusiastic of what was about to happen in between an enraged police officer and his deceitful little woman.
"Oh, Lovey."
You've heard another set of metal chiming against each other. Yet, this time; the handcuffs were thrown towards you. His face etching in complete seriousness and disappointment. Though, inside those ocean eyes, you knew there was a hint of mischief and passion.
"Put these on." he rasped in full authority, his beard looking so inviting for wanting a short visit in between your throbbing heat since the moment he came to interfere.
"---Because you've been bad, sweetheart," pause. "---and I have zero patience for brats like you,"
You squirmed against your seat, hastily grabbing onto the handcuffs thrown on the table with a grin on your face, subtly looking outside to see your boyfriend's truck parked at the far distance before plucking the manacles off the table and sliding off the seat; with your lieutenant paying for the lunch he loathed, feeling his eyes heavy and thoroughly deprived of seeing your face after nose diving in murder cases he had been working on for weeks.
Marshall hated to see you leave. Those peepers trained on how you've dramatically swayed your hips while you waved the cuffs in the air.
But, he loved watching you go with that naughty derriere snapping from side to side.
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THANK YOU FOR READING! STAY SAFE WHERE EVER YOU ARE, BB’S! Watch out for people who have wicked intentions for you! Don’t trust easily!
207 notes · View notes
radramblog · 3 years ago
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AFR Precon Commanders
Look I literally did this last week, but also, I haven’t really thought about Magic since then, so I don’t have any particular ideas about what to write other than just another long list of cards. I had an idea for an Ebondeath dech tech, but I’m going to put that on the backburner for a day where I have a bit more time.
Besides, there’s a reason Set Reviews and the like are so popular among players. They’re fun to make, and they’re fun to read/listen/watch. And for whatever reason, WoTC has opted to give us effectively two full Commander sets this year, with AFC having just as many precons and almost as many new Commanders as the 2016 precon offering. So there’s a lot going on, and a lot to talk about.
With only 12 new cards to talk about this time, and them being actually designed for the format, I’ll try to spend a bit longer on each one. And the first one is….
Catti-brie of Mithral Hall
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There’s a lot going on here for two mana. Catti-brie is Selesnya’s second Equipment Commander, with her compatriot Nazahn being a bunch more impact, but also triple the mana cost. This is besides the part where Nazahn is not that good outside of finding his absolutely bonkers hammer.
I think Catti-brie has a lot of potential. With the right build, she can get very large very quickly, and considering she costs two whole mana, that’s fairly impressive. With no ramp and just Grafted Wargear, she’s swinging for 6 commander damage turn 3, and only getting bigger from there- literally a 3-swing clock with the extra counters.
I literally cannot envision you ever using that last ability unless someone snipes her mid-combat. But you probably don’t need it? I like her either way. Bit awkward she releases the same day as fellow two mana Selesnya Commander that gets bigger for (deckbuild mechanic), Trelassara.
 Galea, Kindler of Hope
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…eh?
Okay, so it Future Sights, but only for Auras/Equips, and it gets the Sigarda’s Aid ability for Equipment, which is kind of gross- you get the card and mana advantage at the same time there. As someone with a Gruul topdeck deck, I know that Green doesn’t really offer much to that pie, but I know Blue absolutely does- not gonna be super hard to manipulate and chuck the swords you want on top of the deck.
But like…eh? This commander doesn’t excite me. They’re obviously powerful, but I just don’t care that much. There’s nothing they do that other things don’t, you know? Bant already has topdeck in Amareth, Auras in the three commanders from the Bant Enchantress deck, and arguably Voltron in Rafiq. I guess this is Bant equipment, but…Rafiq………..
 Karazikar, Eye Tyrant
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Goad is such a fun mechanic, and I’m so happy to see it every time. Not only does this basically Edric in Rakdos, it also helps you force the issue? Yeah okay, that’s a solid commander. 5 mana is awkward, especially since they can’t really swing in safely themselves that often. With that in mind, the tap ability is deceptively strong, especially combined with, say, Menace.
There are currently 372 Kardur, Doomscourge decks, which is way, WAY more than I expected. I’d imagine a lot of those are switching to Karazikar, considering it’s basically the same but better. Not that I ever really care for “just better” cards, but not everyone sees things the same way I do.
 Klauth, Unrivaled Ancient
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What if we made Savage Ventmaw a legend? Okay, cool, but also we fixed it so you can’t go infinite. Wait no stop don’t put Ventmaw in the deck anyway noooooo-
Whoever decided this should have Haste deserves a raise, as the card would be nigh-unusable without it. As it is, this is going to basically let you doublespell constantly, especially if that first one has Haste. Ramp, Beaters, and X-Spells are going to abound. It’s hardly the most unique Gruul commander- Radha 2 exists, after all- but it’s still a solid one.
 Lorcan, Warlock Collector
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I think I’ve played D&D with this guy before.
Lorcan is basically Grave Betrayal in the zone. Upside: Grave Betrayal is a bonkers card, and this doesn’t have the end step clause. Downside: 7 mana in the zone is huge, and the life cost will add up very quickly. Upside: Unironically the exile clause is good, since it means you get to effectively grave-hate with this guy. Downside: some good cards, like Marshland Bloodcaster, are Warlocks, and you don’t want to be exiling your own things.
Lorcan is probably a very fun commander, because Grave Betrayal is fun and cool. It’s probably not actually a very good one. I like it in the 99, though? Might pick one up for Gonti.
 Minn, Wily Illusionist
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Okay I don’t care if this card is good it’s so fucking cool. Finally, Illusion Tribal! Get out your Krovikan Mists and Lords of the Unreal! Blue has no trouble drawing extra cards, even on your opponent’s turns, so she’s going to be pumping out a bunch of these tokens.
Oh, also that second ability is bonkers. It doesn’t say nonland, you can ramp with this! Very solid for a more permanent-based Blue deck. There are also just a bunch of random Illusions that this greatly benefits- Murmuring Mystic and Mordenkainen and Meloku all make tokens, and Draining Whelk and Fathom Seer have the type. Not a huge number of sacrifice outlets, but Drowned Rusalka is probably the best it has ever been here. Very interesting card.
 Nihiloor
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Mx steal-yo-girl here is certainly a unique effect, but not the most interesting one. The second effect benefits Theft tribal, but not, like, well? Though I suppose ganking creatures is a strong enough effect already.
And yet, on this one it’s really awkward? Esper isn’t known for bigboy creatures, but that’s something this deck wants, apparently. It has a lot of potential, but also, there’s a huge amount of setup and a huge potential to get blown out, since blowing them up gives all opponents their guys back immediately. I like what they were trying to do here, but it’s a tad naff.
Prosper, Tome-Bound
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Ah yes, the one everyone’s hyped about. And for fair reason, this card is cool as fuck. It’s a unique effect in the colour, and it’s both card advantage and ramp in one card, and it’s in Rakdos of all combinations? Also, it’s a Tiefling, so surely people are horny for him. There’s a good reason this is the most popular commander from the set, including the main set cards.
This is not the only cast-from-exile matters commander in existence- Laelia came out this year too, but she’s weaker and also not black. The extra colour adds a bunch more to this- theft effects mostly, but also more Cascade cards like Bituminous Blast, things like Dream Devourer, and fucking Valki babyyyy. Add in the black Artifact synergy and you’ve got a both flexible and powerful general.
 Sefris of the Hidden Ways
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This is probably the only commander that’s going to see any play with the Venture mechanic, so get it while it’s hot. “From anywhere” is a huge line of text, and I suspect Syr Konrad is going to find his way into a lot of Sefris decks.
I’m sure there’s a combo this can do or something, but at the end of the day: Do you like the dungeon mechanic? If so, you’ll probably like this card. If not, you probably won’t. Also, since they are surely not going to make more Dungeon cards any time soon, and maybe never again, this deck is going to look very the same for a very long time.
 Stormvald, Frost Giant Jarl
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Sheesh, Bant kinda lost out on this one. Storvald is so incredibly eh.
Ward 3 is, like, juuust on the edge of not really doing that much, where it makes removal cost 4-5, so it’s awkward, but you’re still going to do it if the target is threatening enough. What I’m saying is that it isn’t actually an especially good protective ability on your 7-drop, even if you are in Green.
Making creatures big is decent enough- I’m of the opinion that Gigantomancer is an underrated card, and this gives more colours for things to embiggen. Making things small is slightly less relevant, especially since your 7/7 commander and beater are likely to be crunching through most things anyway. The card is fine, but unexciting.
I like Bant well enough as a colour combination, but like, none of the commanders are my jam. Maybe one day.
 Vrondiss, Rage of Ancients
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Iiinteresting. Look, let’s not beat around the bush, dice-rolling isn’t really a thing unless you’re silver bordered- yeah you could get a few of the better things in there, but you’re probably better off just playing ping effects. Pyrohemia this fucker up.
Enrage was a funky mechanic that didn’t actually get a commander, aside from just the Dino tribal ones. But now we have a proper one, and they’re a Dragon to boot. Also, this is probably the easiest its ever been to generate a bunch of Dragon tokens, so getting triggers from them is real easy, even if they are one-shot-pops. Keep in mind that doesn’t say Combat Damage, so Scourge of Valkas and Dragon Tempest are kind of a nonbo.
Gruul obviously already has Dragon Tribal options, but this is still a good thing to have around.
 Wulfgar of Icewind Dale
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WoTC apparently decided to throw everyone a curveball on this one. Because from my recollection, everyone on r/custommagic assumed we’d get this effect at some point, now that technology like Panharmonicon exists, but they and I assumed it would be, you know, Boros. The colour combo that probably needs it more. Gruul, really? Come on Gavin, you’re a great dude but what the fuck is this.
Sigh. That’s not especially fair.
This combos with like half a dozen things to make mana and probably triple that to make damage. And there’s surely ways to draw cards, and blow things up, et cetera, et cetera. I’m just salty. This isn’t the note I wanted to go out on!
Fuck it, at least you can still double a Drakuseth trigger. But my Aurelia……..
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fullsunalicia · 5 years ago
Note
i found you by chance, read your entire masterlist in one sitting and i've been smitten with your writing ever since!🥺 may i request a doyoung installment of your demigod series if you don't mind? they're just so lovely🥺 stay safe and healthy❣
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archnemesis — KDY
doyoung and you have been at each other’s throat for more years than you can count. the constant bickering and his know-it-all behavior makes you want to burst from anger, but maybe the tension can be released ... otherwise.
son of athena!doyoung x daughter of poseidon!reader
oh bubs! i’m smitten with you too, thank you for being so kind! i hope you stay healthy, too - have you eaten yet? if not, go eat rn! stay healthy and take care of yourself <3 now, enjoy some demigod doyoung!
The stories speak of fated lovers. What they didn’t mention was that you were also able to inherit the hate towards another demigod just because their godly parent is a bitch towards yours.
Though, that isn’t the only reason you despise Kim Doyoung.
The man was born to get on your nerves. No matter what, you guys made it a competition to be better than the other. Grades, reputation,... You name it, you’ve fought about it. All of that is heightened because of that dispute from aeons ago, where Athens fell into Athena’s hands just because she planted some stupid olive tree.
Yes, you and your father are still salty about that.
You are never ever going to like Kim Doyoung.
❀ ❀ ❀
“I hate this university so much,” you cuss as you wrap your bath robe tighter and hide behind Taeyong. He’s not exactly broad enough to cover you, but you’d still like to maintain atleast a little bit of your dignity. You’re already annoyed - the loud alarm blaring doesn’t make it any better.
Taeyong intertwines your hands and pulls you along. The halls are filled with people who are as enraged as you, but also lots of people who are too stoned to care. Some look neutral. Some laugh at you, the girl who was in the middle of showering when the fire alarm went off. “Would you rather burn?” Taeyong sighs, eyes fixed on the exit. Neither of you thought about bringing a jacket, and you both dread the snowy weather that’s waiting outside.
Well, it’s going to be worse for you. Sopping wet from head to toe, you’re leaving behind the path back to your dorm with pools of water. It’s running down your back and clings to your cheeks, frozen there the second Taeyong and you step out.
You’d rather die than look anyone in the eye right now.
The problem is that this university is filled with mortals. No matter how many of them had the sight, you weren’t allowed to use your powers in public. You’re unable to wring yourself out, making you fall victim to the freezing wind blowing iceflowers on your wet skin.
Someone behind you snorts rather loudly. “You should’ve stayed in the dorm, idiot.”
You’d recognize that voice anywhere. The sound is like nails on a chalkboard, or what you imagine would it feel like if you had glass shards stuck in your ear. Doyoung bows over your shoulder to smirk at you, unfazed by your harsh push. He stumbles, but sadly doesn’t fall.
“Aren’t you supposed to be smart, you stupid know-it-all?” you hiss at him. Doyoung is wrapped in a thick coat, protected from the snow falling from the skies as the temperature drops lower and lower. Truth be told, he’s very handsome. You can’t deny that. It’s his personality that ruins it all.
A long time ago, long before you entered college, you and Doyoung had been in the same class in highschool. Your relationship back then had been a little bit better than now, but the hate had taken root there. His arrogance. The glance in his eyes that made you think he was looking down on you.
Doyoung is his mother’s pride and joy, the poster child. The sharp tongue. Emotionless eyes, aside from that slither of smugness. He’s perfect. And that’s what annoys the hell out of you.
He is born to bow before the rules. You live to break them. You aren’t meant to be contained or held down by something as stupid as that. The ocean waves live in your veins and empower you. Free as the flowing water, and just as harsh. The problem with Doyoung and you is that you’re just like your parents. Where he is careful, you are ignorant. Doyoung thinks about his actions, you rush into it headfirst.
Both of you are the spark to set ablaze the other’s fury. It made the lifes of your poor friends a nightmare, especially when you’re drunk and loose-lipped, and the only thing Doyoung has to say about that is: “Just as disappointing as her father.”
Because of that, he ended up with a busted lip once or twice.
“That’s why I told you to stay inside. It would’ve saved you the lung infection you’re about to catch. I suppose your singular braincell can’t get that.”
You don’t react to his jab. It’s too cold for that, and your teeth are chattering too much to deliver a harsh comment anyways. Taeyong beside you is quiet, offering you his arm as you wrap your own around it and roll your eyes. “I would’ve been written up, you asshole,” you mumble. With that, you bury your face in Taeyong’s side. You wish you were in your warm room. Surrounded by the scent of the ocean breeze, and the soft music that’s heard through the walls whenever Taeyong practices. It’s friday, for god’s sake.
Someone drapes a jacket over you. Disoriented, you raise your head to scold Taeyong - he can’t give you his jacket, if he gets sick he’s going to miss his competition... But it’s not Taeyong’s. His eyes are wide and shocked.
You turn back around to check for the annoying smartass, but he’s already walking away from you towards his friends.
Jacketless.
❀ ❀ ❀
You don’t see Doyoung for days after. Normally, you’d be glad to be free of his annoying existence. After that move in the snow, you’re not entirely sure if you never want to see him again, or pin him against a wall to question him.
There was no reason for him to be ... “kind”. If Kim Doyoung is even able to do that. Why would he? He enjoys your suffering as much as you enjoy his. On any other day, he would’ve left you to freeze to death. So what possessed him to do that?
The sound of water crashing on the shore snaps you out of your thoughts. You don’t particularly enjoy skinny dipping, but once in a while, you like to just sit down in the water and listen to the ocean’s stories. The waves whisper, heard only by those who are willing and able to listen. They don’t speak any language of the world, but you still understand them - the sound of the hidden world beneath the waterline, deep in the waters, never to be explored by someone who doesn’t belong there. Both death and life are found in the middle of the ocean’s treasures - corals, sirens, those who’s ships crash against the jagged stone and sink to the ground, never to be seen again. The secret of a naiad. The first cry of a mermaid. Two boats passing in the night.
You hear it all. You know it all. As a princess of the waves, the key to all those locks is in your heart, given to you by your father. The water will always bend to your will. The earth shakes below your feet to support your anger and release it. You are (y/n), daughter of Poseidon. You are as unraveling and uncontrollable as the freshwater rivers, mysterious like the depths of the sea. Your crown is made of salt and sapphire, not metal that will rust.
Being close to your father’s realm makes you calm. It’s like returning home after a long day, the warmth of the water like a blanket around your body. Thankfully, you’re not soaked or drenched. You will never be prisoner of the sea.
You want to know what goes in Doyoung’s head. Rarely is he ever helpful towards you. There was a time in highschool where you had thought you could put your differences aside, but it’s just not possible. Doyoung is married to his pride and his pride alone, cloaking himself in it so nobody gets close. He’s intelligent and cunning. There is no reason for him to tip his hand and aid you, when all he ever does is make life hard for you.
But once in a blue moon, Doyoung’s eyes are as calm as the ocean at night. No bitterness, no snarled arguments. It’s just him, focussed on the task at hand, quiet and in his own world. He reminds you of the mermaids then, who watch over the sea to save the drowning ships. He’s not malicious. He’s just a man with his own goals.
Waiting for you on the shore are your belongings, and a jacket that was never yours. It’s time you return it.
❀ ❀ ❀
Doyoung looks unfazed when you hand him back the jacket. You clear your throat, embarrassed. How the hell do you force yourself to be kind to the rival you’ve been terrorising for several years now? “Uhm, thanks, I guess,” you mumble and turn away to leave.
You’re not ready to throw away all of your habits yet.
The choice is taken out of your hands when Doyoung tugs you back. His grip isn’t firm, just kind of clinical. Touching you only for the sake that you’d know he didn’t want the conversation to end. It makes you uneasy. The two of you aren’t supposed to converse so calmly. At this point, Doyoung should be digging his claws inside of you like an angry cat, hooked deep inside you and leave you to rot. Spark the fighting spirit in you. The part of you that creates destructive hurricanes and deadly whirlpools.
But his eyes are unfathomable. “You’re not sick, are you? We were staying outside for a pretty long time. I didn’t see you get back inside.”
You want to hiss at him - what’s it to you? - but the sound is lodged in your throat. There was no mean undertone, no teasing lilt. Just ... curiosity.
You shake your head. Your voice hadn’t returned yet; you’re waiting for the situation to explode, for the hatred to return to his eyes. Shouldn’t you force his hand away? What is wrong with you?
Doyoung drops his hand. For once in your life, you desperately wish to be able to look into his head. To read that brilliant mind that forges thousands of strategies, aware of every possibility given. No matter how much you dislike him, there’s no point denying the utter intelligence this man possesses. He’s clever, with the consuming wish to know anything and everything. You look into his eyes, but there’s nothing - Doyoung is smart enough not to let anything show. He’s not like you. Still waters run deep.
Doyoung feels like the lowest point of the ocean. All the secrets buried there. The knowledge that would never reach another’s eyes. Mysterious. Dangerous.
Fingertips brush your hand. Maybe you imagined it. You don’t know if believing your senses, is the correct decision to take right now. Doyoung’s eyes shape emotion again, the silent caution of someone who didn’t want to overstep boundaries. But he never does that with you. Why would he now? “Keep to warm drinks,” he says, not an order, but advice. He folds his jacket in his hands. Have his eyes always looked like those of an owl? Or is that just an exaggeration on your part, because his mother is often connected with that animal? “Stretch if you have to. It would be unwise for you to catch a cold during exam season.”
With that, Doyoung steps inside and closes the door, to both you and the unknown world you had just been unwillingly dragged in. The one where children of Athena and Poseidon didn’t jump at each others throat because they breathe the same air.
The one where you feel like you’re in highschool again, wondering if Doyoung and you can be something entirely different than an archnemesis to the other.
❀ ❀ ❀
You’re not childish. You’re really not.
But maybe this situation is just too much temptation. Sprawled across several books, Doyoung rests his head on his arms and is deep in slumber. His black hair is curled, weirdly, a strange sight to behold. It’s not like he’s very stylish. It must be his friends’ influence. He almost looks pretty. You’re not childish, but there’s just something so funny about grabbing a pen and ruining Doyoung’s stunning features.
Your friends roll their eyes at you as you silently step closer to Doyoung. They want nothing to do with your shenanigans, and they’re honestly too tired to stop another brawl. The entire day had been spent studying, since final exams are drawing close and everyone feels like dying from the stress. It seems like not even a child of Athena is excluded from that. Doyoung’s brows are furrowed, even in his sleep. Shoulders tense, his hands forming fists before relaxing again - he doesn’t even let himself rest while he’s off to dreamland. Though this shouldn’t suprise you. Doyoung always flings himself into unreasonable amounts of work, no matter how much his health deteriorates because of that.
Despite hating him, you know a lot about the man who looks more bunny than human. In the many years of rivalry, you picked up a fact or two about him. His memorization skills, for example. You always hated how he was never plagued by blackouts during exams, while you suffered from panic in the few classes you struggled in. He always triumphed over you with a few points just because of that. Another thing is his fear from animals. You once used your powers on him, young and reckless, exceptionally blind to the threat that you could pose to him as a ruler child, daughter of one of the big three in Olympus. He hadn’t flinched from being caged underwater. The second Doyoung sees a large dog though, he’s as far away from the scene as possible.
It’s a very rare occasion, but you’ve also seen Doyoung cry before. In middle school, alone on a bench, surrounded by parents accompanying their children to school. Athena is sworn to chastity. That means that her children aren’t conceived - they’re living, breathing ideas, born in the same strange way their mother was. In the mortal world, they were known as ‘adopted’. And because Athena didn’t give away her virginity to have Doyoung, it means there’s no father in the picture. It’s just him and his big brother. On that day, he had cried because he was fully aware he was alone. You saw it in the way he clutched his books tight; knowledge ties him to his mother, earns him appreciation. No olympian parent would ever be there for their child all of the time. They are gods, bound to the nightsky. They exist to rule over the world and keep the balance. They are the fear instilled in you as tsunamis wreck entire cities. They are the wonder and awe in your eyes at the sight of purple thunderstorms darken blue skies, clawing it open with white lightning. They’re not here to play mommy and daddy.
That day was the only day in your life where you had willingly sat down next to Doyoung and held his hand until he calmed down. You sat there for a long time, clinging to each other, before you promised to never speak to anyone about this ever. Now came the second time where you slid into the seat next to him without being forced.
Doyoung is deep in slumber. Not a single reaction is coaxed out of him as you poke his cheek, and then pinch it. His lashes are really long; the thought fills you with envy. How come every single boy you know has nicer lasher than you?
With a sigh, you put a hand to his shoulder and shake him gently. He’s warm below your touch. Doyoung doesn’t rouse. “Hey,” you say, though it’s not loud. You’re still in a library. Then: “Hey, Doyoung.”
Your idea of drawing on his face is long forgotten when his eyelids finally flutter open. He looks unbelievably tired. Like a zombie, his gaze is dazed as he lets it wander over his surroundings, before finally settling on you. Thankfully, he doesn’t give you the evil side eye. You think he’s too exhausted to actually do that now. You shift in your seat. “When’s the last time you’ve eaten?”
The man drowsily reaches for his phone to check the time. Out of instinct, he narrows his eyes because of the bright light, and you fight back a snicker before he can glare at you. “This morning,” he mumbles, sleep lacing his melodious voice.
“Doyoung, it’s 9pm.”
“Your point?”
You sigh. You’d rather not do this right now. But you also can’t will yourself to stand up and leave, when he looks so ... wrecked. You want to help. “C’mon,” you murmur. “Grab your stuff, let’s get you some ramen. My treat.”
Doyoung looks at you like you’ve grown another head. Impatiently, you start drumming your fingers on the table. Is he always this ungrateful?
Nonetheless, he gathers his stuff, and you help him stuff the heavy books into his bagpack. Maybe you’re possessed. Yeah, maybe. That’s the only explanation you can muster for your behavior right now. But that still doesn’t explain why Doyoung had been kind to you after the fire alarm. Perhaps whatever possessed you had possessed him first?
You always knew those water spirits were real. Your father is a damn liar.
Doyoung lets himself be tugged out of the library by you, his body still heavy from the slumberparty he threw for himself while studying. The feeling of his fingers between yours doesn’t feel so bad. So what? You’re holding his hand because you hate him that much.. You’re just treating him like a child because he can’t walk alone, that’s all...
Neither of you let go once.
❀ ❀ ❀
“Are you hiding shit from me?”
Confused, you look out of your room to meet Taeyong’s gaze, who’s only halfway stepped out of his own to address you. A smirk is painted on his beautiful face, rather unusual for someone as kind as Lee Taeyong. You only see that kind of expression on his face when he’s punching someone in the face, or dancing in a competition. Son of Ares and all. That anger is fuel to a whole lot of good things in his life, not only fights. (Though not even Taeyong can resist the urge that was passed on to him by his father. You’ve seen the way his eyes light up when he lands a particularly good uppercut.)
“Now what is that supposed to mean?” You return to your messy room. Exams are finally over, and it looks like a bomb exploded inside your sleeping chambers as you’ve been busy studying in the past few weeks. You never even thought about tidying up because you were so concentrated on cramming a semester’s worth of information inside your head. This degree in marine biology wasn’t going to earn itself. Now, several weeks later, you finally had the time and right headspace to get your room back to its’ usual outlook.
It rustles in the room beside you. Taeyong is rearranging his furniture. “Are you out of your mind, or why are you on good terms with Kim Doyoung? I don’t like seeing you guys get along. It honestly scares me. It feels like there’s some kind of dubious peace treaty going on and it’s going to explode in my face when I get accostumed to it.”
Oh. A pink blush settles on your face as you slam your drawers shut, the embarrassment pooling in your stomach. You’ve never been good at hiding things from your best friend; Taeyong knew you too well. “I don’t know,” you tell him. Something in his room falls over. “I guess we just stopped after he lent me his jacket. Though I must admit it’s getting pretty weird. This is a betrayal to myself.”
“Are you joking? I was tired of getting in the middle of your brawls all the time.”
“Don’t lie!” You throw a book against the wall that borders to Taeyong’s room. He giggles, fully aware that he was caught lying red-handed. “I know how much you enjoyed playfighting with that dumbass. You were only disappointed that it was denying you of a real fight. You damn Ares children and your knack to fuck shit up.”
“Hey, blame it on the genes.” He wanders in your room without knocking. Taeyong isn’t very cuddly, but for once, he’s the one initiating the skinship. He hugs you tightly, thin frame fitting around yours to press you against his body. “I’m glad,” he mumbles, voice wiped clean of its’ joking tone. “Seriously. You’re not your parents. There’s no reason to not get along. If I can do it with him, why can’t you?”
Maybe what you have with Doyoung is a little different to what Taeyong and Doyoung have. But Taeyong doesn’t need to know that. And especially not Doyoung. It’s a wellkept secret that has been blooming inside you since you watched him slurp up some cup ramen, the gratitude in his eyes waking something up in your heart.
After that, he had never once looked down on you. No disrespect. No provoking comments. Only mindless chatter, and the occasional stare you caught the other doing once in a while.
[07:25pm] k. doyoung: meet me at the quad
Taeyong snickers as he reads the message over your shoulder. “So you’ve been hiding something from me,” he accuses you, and you realize that your secret isn’t as wellkept as you thought. You want to argue, but Taeyong shuts you up with a wink and leaves the room. Hmph. You return your attention to your phone.
[07:26pm] (y/n): be there in a minute.
Maybe your room can wait.
The walk from the dorm to the quad isn’t far, maybe a five-minute-walk if you weren’t rushing. It’s a little early in the evening, but still really cold, which is why you wrap your jacket around yourself tighter and pick up speed. Doyoung is waiting for you patiently, hands buried deep into his pockets.
You still have to get accostumed to the sight of him smiling at you. And to holding his arm willingly. And the wish to stand on your tippy toes and kiss him...
“Why’d you call me?”
Doyoung starts walking. Even though you already wrapped your arm around his, he uncoils them so he can interlock your fingers and stuff them into his jacket pocket. “I thought about something,” he drawls out. As always, he cloaks his voice to not expose his true feelings. Another Athena habit. You wonder if he’s even aware of it. “This rivalry thing is getting kinda old, don’t you think?”
“Are you finally admitting defeat?” You grip his fingers tighter. They’re warm in yours, and the laugh you manage to coax out of him makes you feel light. “I knew if I just continued fighting bravely, I’d win. This is for Athens, wise boy.”
Doyoung holds you closer. He seems really undecisive with what he wants to do: despite him already changing the positon of your hands, he lets go to wrap an arm around your waist and pin you against his side. The second he lowers his head to lean his forehead against yours, you feel dizzy. “Never, seaweed brain. I was actually thinking something entirely different...”
You feel breathless. “What exactly?”
“How about I show you?”
Doyoung’s lips feel as soft as they look like; his kiss feels like a caress, so sensual and loving you could do this for hours. Your hands find his hair, tugging slightly to get him closer. You even tug an appreciative, very quiet moan out of him by doing that. When he finally leans way, your lips are swollen, his are forming a grin. He’s awfully smug. Though, you guess he has every right to after making your heart pound as quickly as the flutter of a hummingbird’s wings.
His gaze is self-satisfied, but also full of adoration. Longing. The same gaze he sometimes has after reading a particularly good book. The taste of his favorite cake. Who knew enemies made such good lovers...
“So?” Doyoung cradles your face in his hands, fingers moving to tuck strands of your hair behind your ear. Careful, like you were porcelain. Expensive. Precious to him. “Do you agree with me or what?”
“I think I need to be shown again.”
He doesn’t stop you from getting a second taste.
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365days365movies · 4 years ago
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January 30, 2021: Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior
So, now that I’ve gotten through the first of these movies, it’s probably time to talk about the director of all four films, George Miller.
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Miller’s an Australian director and medical doctor. Yeah, dude went to medical school, and in his last year there, started getting into filmmaking! Nice. He immediately came off as a budding director, and made his official directorial debut with his first film...Mad Max. Yeah. Very interesting guy. Today’s entry is his second film, and he’s since made films including Twilight Zone: The Movie, The Witches of Eastwick, Lorenzo’s Oil, Babe (yes, the pig one), Babe: Pig in the City (yes, the OTHER pig one), Happy Feet (not the pig one) and its sequel, Happy Feet Two. So, a pretty good filmography!
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But throughout it all, Miller’s flagship passion was the Mad Max franchise, continuing with this movie, and eventually ending with Fury Road. And from what I’ve heard about these remaining two films, I’m in for a ride. Pun half-heartedly intended. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!
Recap
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An elderly narrator brings us in, telling the tale of the Road Warrior, Mad Max Rockatansky (Mel Gibson). He speaks of the downfall of modern society, punctuated by increased savagery, and the takeover of gangs on the world’s highways. People are ruined and forgotten, and they lose themselves. And these people include Max, who’s wandered out into the wilderness since losing his family. Yeah, Jess from the last movie? Dead. Guess she wasn’t doing so great after all.
Max and his dog are on the roads of Australia, where things have definitely changed. Ho longer around any vestige of civilization, the Road Warrior’s driving the Interceptor, being chased by punks on motorcycles, led by Wez (Vernon Wells), a cray, screaming dude with a bike and a mohawk..
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After the chase, Max happens upon a recently-wrecked truck leaking gasoline, a much treasured resource in this post-apocalyptic landscape. Wez leaves, having been defeated, and Max gathers the fuel and goes his way. He drives through the desert until finding a mini-helicopter (a gyrocopter, it’s called), abandoned on the ground. 
After taking care of a carpet python (Morelia spilota; don’t know the subspecies), he finds himself ambushed by the Gyro Captain (Bruce Spence), who holds him up for his fuel. However, using his dog, Max gets the upper hand. Frightened, Gyro tells him of a huge supply of fuel somewhere in the desert. He agrees to show him in exchange for his life. Max agrees, and does this.
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Yeah, he tied a string to the trigger of a gun, and tied the other end to Dog’s bone. Fuck yes.
Gyro’s true to his word, and he takes him to an oil refinery in the middle of the desert. It’s being used and guarded by a gang of some kind. Max sets up camp, tying Gyro to a dead tree and spying on the gang. That night, many gang members leave the refinery, and return the next day. I should mention, at this point, that we start to see some of the crazy vehicles I love so much in Fury Road. Which, yeah, HERE for that!
Anyway, the bikers, including good old Wez, go after a guy in a tricked-out buggy, incapacitating him and...taking...his wife. Yeah, these movies are really leaning on that to vilify their bad guys, huh? First it was Toecutter’s gang and the young couple, and now it’s these random people. Not the best gimmick in the world, but...OK?
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Well, Max goes down to take their gasoline, and finds that the man has lived. Max brings him back to a small settlement, where they take him in. Meanwhile, a child with a boomerang, called Feral Kid (Emil Minty), watches. Cool.
Max is taken into the settlement, where oil is being refined as well. The settlers definitely don’t accept Max, and are ready to take his car and oust him into the wilderness without fuel. And then, the bikers return. And there are a LOT of them.
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These are the Marauders, and they’ve taken some of the settlers captive. They’d gone out, only to be taken captive by Wez and the others. But Wez isn’t their leader. No...no, that would be the Warrior of the Wasteland! The Ayatollah of rock-and-roll-ah! THIS...is Lord Humungus (Kjell Nilsson)!
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...Am I in love with this movie? Holy shit, I might be I mean, LOOK at that dude! With his voice and his scraggly-ass hair and Jason mask, he notes that the settlers sent out sentries to find a truck, with which to carry their gasoline and take it out of the desert. And as this is taking place, Feral Kid pops up, throws his steel boomerang, and kills Wez’ right hand man. WHAT
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YES. MORE PLEASE. Feral Kid’s boomerang is thrown at him, misses, comes back and severs the fingers of the hand of Humungus’ mouth of Sauron dude, Toadie (Max Phipps). Humungus tries to calm the throngs, Wez included, and ends up putting Wez in a Sleeper. He tells the settlers to “just walk away, and [he] will spare [their] lives. Just walk away.”
...Yeah, I love Humungus. And his inevitable death saddens me more than I can properly say. Anyway, the settlers start debating whether or not they should walk away, and Max uses a little music-maker that he found to befriend the Feral Kid. The leader of the settlers, Pappagallo (Mike Preston) tries to convince them to flee with their fuel to a safe place. They continue to argue, until Max interjects with an offer.
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Max can get them the vehicle to carry the tanker of gas that they have, but demands as much gas as he can carry, and the return of his vehicle. They agree to his terms, and Max heads off into the night to get the truck from earlier, with gas canisters and Dog in tow. With a little help from Feral Kid, he escapes the notice of the Marauders waiting nearby.
He catches up to Gyro, who’s managed to break free of the tree (well, mostly), and is quickly caught by Max in order to carry the gas canisters for the truck. They get back to Gyro’s gyro, where someone has died after being bitten by his...nonvenomous snake. Yeah, these films haven’t shown very high knowledge of zoology, huh?
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They take to the air in the gyrocopter, and easily fly to the truck from the beginning of the film. They get it started, and Max leaves Gyro behind, although he protests to this, and follows behind in the copter. And then.he drives past Wez, who’s still enraged after losing his partner to boomerang hit.
By the way, I didn’t mention this about the gang, but they’re literally all wearing what looks to me like leather bondage gear? Like...I’m pretty certain that’s exactly what that is; it’s pretty obvious. ESPECIALLY Humungus and Wez’s partner, lemme tell you. Just a note, as this change in visual tone and style is going to carry throughout the rest of the series.
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The Marauders run Max down, and Gyro saves the day with his snake, throwing it at one of the cars chasing him. Max JUST makes it into the Settlement, but a couple of the Marauders make it in as well, Wez amongst them. He kills a Settler using his favorite weapon, HIS OWN HEAD (fuck, this movie rules), and makes his was through the compound.
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Max climbs the top of the wall, and uses a flamethrower on some of the men. Feral Kid throws a boomerang at Wez, who runs off with the rest of the Marauders. Gyro also arrives, landing in the settlement. Pappagallo, in the process, is shot in the leg with an arrow. Unfortunately, the damage sustained to the truck will take 12 hours to fix.
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The Settlers thank Max for his help, but that doesn’t mean he’s staying there. That night, however, Humungus retaliates, and strings up their captured settlers for all to see, torturing them throughout the night. Nobody will make it out alive, by his promise. 
For the time being, Max and Gyro are still in the settlement, waiting for their chance to leave. Gyro tries to sneak away with a young woman, but she opts to stay out of loyalty to the Settlers. Also, her hair looks like a Who from Whoville. It had to be said...it had to be said. Pappagallo berated Max for just leaving, rather than helping the rest of them and driving the tanker. Max shoves aside Feral Kid, and he takes off.
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However, this is NOT the best move on Max’s part, as he drives RIGHT THROUGH the Marauder camp, and Wez isn’t far behind him. Using a NOS system (EAT IT FAST AND FURIOUS FRANCHISE), they easily overtake Max and run him off the road, DESTROYING the V-8 Pursuit Special, and injuring Max something fierce. Somehow, though, he manages to escape. But one of them KILLS DOG WHAT THE FUCK MAN
Max crawls away and escapes, but is found by...Gyro! Gyro picks him up with the copter, and takes him back to the settlement. He wakes up in a medical tent, still quite hurt. Pappagallo details the plan: use the tanker as a distraction to allow the others to escape. Max, although still injured, volunteers to drive the tanker after all. He doesn’t say exactly why, but he is now stuck there without a method of egress, and he’s the best chance they have. I’m going to choose to believe that he does it for Dog. JOHN WICK STYLE BABY
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The time has come. On both sides, they head for conflict. Gyro’s air support, dropping bombs on them. But he’s quickly shot down. Meanwhile, the settlers get out in vehicles of their own, taking advantage of the distraction of the tanker. And once they’re all out…
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Now, all eyes are on Max and the Marauders! With the assistance of Warrior Woman (Virginia Hey), Feral Kid, and a few more settlers, Max tries to outdrive Wez and his group. And a LOT of shit happens here, so do yourself a favor and watch this video!
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Rebecca and the other two settlers die, leaving only Max and Feral Kid behind. A LOT of Marauders die in the process, and then Lord Humungus catches up. As they shoot out the tires, Gyro (still flyin’, baby!) and some of the Settlers show up as backup. And...yup, another video. Yes, really.
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After ALL OF THAT, Humungus ONCE AGAIN goes the way of Toecutter, and is killed by a head-on collision with a truck. Said truck careens off the road, and Mac and Feral Kid get out. It’s then that we see that the truck NEVER had fuel in it! No, instead it was a decoy! It allowed the vehicles, which actually contained the fuel, to escape to the safe North, away from the gangs.
The Narrator comes back, revealing that he’s the Feral Kid, and that their new leader was Gyro! And the Road Warrior. That was the last they ever saw of him. He lives now...only in his memories.
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And THAT...was The Road Warrior, AKA Mad Max 2. WHOOOOOOOO!!! Second verse, same as the first; epilogue at the end of the weekend! LET’S GO PART 3
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January 31, 2021: Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome (1985)
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mendespideys · 5 years ago
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hotel lobby | s.m.
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pairing: reader x shawn mendes 
summary: a broken ac unit leads to a sleepless night and a potential friendship
a/n: inspired by these photos of shawn in his pjs because they make me soft :’)) 
p.s. i’m reposting this on here, but you might have already read it on my other blog (sunsetspidey)
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Your eyes fluttered open only to be met by darkness, the red numbers on the bedside clock eliciting only a dim light. Once your eyes had had enough time to adjust, you fumbled around for your phone, already knowing that the clock provided would be off. Your fingers finally collided with the silicone phone case and you turned over on your side to avoid pulling at the charger cord. An exasperated groan left your lips as your screen lit up, realizing it was no more than 2:13 in the morning.
In any other circumstance, you would turn around and welcome the sleepiness making your brain hazey. That was the problem, though: you weren’t able to sleep. The air conditioning unit appeared to be stuck on 68° degrees. You had realized as much before going to bed, but knowing you had to be up in the morning for a meeting, you had decided to push through it. That seemed to be a mistake.
You had been tossing and turning, eventually having to change into leggings and a hoodie, realizing the tank top and shorts weren’t a sufficient source of warmth. Your body was almost rigid as you tossed the white covers aside, stumbling your way out of the twin-sized bed. Snatching your phone and keycard from the small nightstand, you shove both items in the pocket of your hoodie before trudging over to the door.
Your frustration was growing by the minute. You had to wait for three elevators until you had finally been able to squeeze into the fourth one. The rumor about New York appeared to be true, you determined, the city never slept. Even at almost two-thirty in the morning, the hotel guests were bustling about. You usually wouldn’t mind, but your patience was slimming by the second. A cocktail of sweat, alcohol, and perfume engulfed the elevator and you let out a breath of relief as it came to a halt on the main floor.
The remaining people stumbled out with you, almost knocking you over. You bit your tongue to avoid saying anything because you didn’t want to start something you didn’t have the energy to finish. The small group quickly headed toward the exit, their giggles and slurred words fading as they neared it. Huffing, you shoved your hands into the pouch on your stomach, your fingers mindlessly fiddling with the edge of your keycard as you made your way toward the front desk.
The Filipino man (you knew because you had talked to him earlier) smiled as you reached the desk, holding up his finger to signal he would finish on the phone soon. You just nodded, shutting your eyes for a few seconds in an attempt to appear more awake. Shifting your weight from one leg to the other, you glance out at the busy city, the receptionist’s conversation merely background noise. As he bid his goodbyes, you returned your attention to him, trying your best to muster a polite smile.
“Hi! Uh, the AC unit in my room isn’t working right. It’s stuck on 68 degrees for some reason. I thought I’d be able to sleep through it, but I’m here now, so I guess not.”
“I am so sorry, miss,” he apologized, the customer service tone dripping through from voice. His fingers immediately moved along the keyboard and he hummed as he glanced at the monitor in front of him. “It appears we don’t have any single rooms available at the moment. I sincerely apologize. We do have a few double ones, but that would require an upgrade or I could call maintenance and they should be able to fix it within a few hours.”
“A few hours?” the disbelief seeped through and you can’t be bothered to disguise it. “This is a mistake made from your side and you’re making me pay an upgrade fee to fix it?”
“I apologize, ma'am, but that is our policy.”
A loud exhale escaped you and you shook your head, too tired to argue. That didn’t mean you’d come back tomorrow with a prepared speech, though. You wrack your brain for the best possible option, but seeing as your job was paying for your stay, you decided against the upgrade. Waving your hand dismissively, you let him know you would go back to your room and endure the rest of the night in the freezing hellhole. There had to be some spare blankets in there somewhere, right?
You turned on your heel, stalking away, fueled by anger and frustration. You didn’t get very far, however, your enraged marching getting interrupted as you collide with a hard surface. A hushed curse word leaves your mouth as you stumbled backward, your hands frantically fumbling for something to hold on to so you can steady yourself. Your fingers wrapped around whatever they could find and it didn’t take you long to realize it was someone’s arm. Once your balance was returned, you quickly let go and glanced up at whoever you had run into.
A pair of brown eyes met yours and you immediately recognized the worry pooling within them. Clearing your throat, you took a step back, shooting the stranger a sheepish smile. A small chuckle fell from the man’s lips as he, too, smiled. Your eyes scrambled across his tall figure, taking in his features. He had his hood pulled over his head, but there were a few curls poking out and you stopped yourself before you imagined how it would be to run your hands through them. Your gaze flickered down toward the floor, noticing his green plaid pajama pants. You were probably keeping him from going to sleep. Tugging at the hem of your sweatshirt, you met his eyes again, ready to apologize.
“I am so sorry! I, uh, I was mad and I totally wasn’t looking.”
“No worries. Are you alright?” There was a slight roughness to his voice, but it sounds beautiful nonetheless. You nodded quickly and he continued, “I heard what happened. With the, uh, AC and stuff. I’m really sorry.”
You shrugged, trying not to roll your eyes at the whole ordeal. “It’s not your fault. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure I’ll be able to suffer through the rest of the night.”
“You shouldn’t have to, though. I’ll leave them a bad Yelp review on your behalf.”
His statement elicited a laugh from you and he smiled, apparently pleased he had been able to do so. His smile was gentle, but there was a playfulness hiding behind it that a part of you wanted to explore further. Just then, you noticed the steaming paper cup in his hand and you found yourself wondering how he had been able to balance it while trying to prevent you from falling. You had to give it to him; he had some impressive skills. Bringing the cup up to his lips, he took a small sip, his eyes trained on you above the rim of the mug. You averted your gaze, knowing how easily you would get lost in his eyes, and instead fixated on his bobbing Adam’s apple.
“Oh, trust me, I’ll come back in the morning and leave a review in person. I just don’t have the energy right now and I don’t wanna half-ass it.”
“Let me know if you need backup,” he offered quickly, seemingly catching himself before elaborating, “even though I’m sure you won’t need it.”
You wanted to say that you did - that you could use all the help you could get - but you knew that you were perfectly capable of complaining and demanding a refund by yourself. It would have been a nice excuse to see him again, though. You knew he would leave any minute and you would more than likely never see him again. Despite barely meeting him, the thought of never seeing him again was gnawing at the back of your mind. It was ridiculous, at least that’s what you tried telling yourself, but your mind didn’t seem to be listening.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” you said quietly, desperate to keep the conversation going. “What are you doing up?”
“Oh, uh, I just got back to the hotel a little over an hour ago and I’m too energetic to fall asleep,” he explained quietly, ending with a shrug of his shoulders.
“The coffee probably won’t help.”
“You’re probably right,” he chuckled, pursing his lips together. “Still addictive though.”
It was your turn to shrug this time. “Debatable.”
“You don’t like coffee?” His question sounded more like an accusation and you quirked an eyebrow.
“Not my first drink of choice, no. It’s tolerable.”
“Deal breaker right there,” he exclaimed softly, shaking his head. “That settled it. We can’t be friends.”
“Who said I wanted to be your friend, anyway?” you joked, but as his face fell slightly, you nudged his arm gently. “I’m joking.”
The right corner of his mouth twitched and he huffed quietly. If you hadn’t known better, you’d say your joke had upset him. That was stupid, though, because you didn’t know him and you were no expert at reading body language. Still, there was something about the weight he shifted his weight from one leg to another and how quickly his eyes had stopped sparkling that told you otherwise. He seemed genuine enough and he had already made you laugh more than once, so being friends with him didn’t seem all that bad.
You had met your fair share of guys throughout your life, but he gave off a different impression. He was also incredibly attractive, which was undeniable. Even in the dim light illuminating the lobby, the features of his face were breathtaking. You could only imagine how stunning his eyes were in the sunlight and you tried to ignore the burst of disappointment when you realized you would never get to experience it. His jawline was sharp, you had noticed as he kept throwing quick glances out the front windows. You didn’t want to ask why, assuming it was a habit of some sort. You had your fair share of those, too.
“I guess I can look past you not liking coffee,” he admitted, about to say something else when something interrupted him from doing so. He effortlessly fished his phone out from the pocket of his plaid pants, his eyes tracing the notification he had apparently gotten. His jaw tensed momentarily and you assumed it was something he wasn’t expecting or didn’t want to see. “Sorry.”
His apology was muffled but you quickly dismissed it, letting him know it was alright. You observed him quietly as he shoved his phone back into his pocket before briefly looking out the windows again. When he looked back toward you, you were already looking at him and you didn’t bother hiding the fact that you had been studying him. A small smirk made its way to his lips and if you had known him better, you would have slapped his arm to wipe it off his face.
You could imagine it and it was almost scary how easy it was to do so. Being friends with him, that is. Or possibly more, you thought, but tossed away the idea instantly. Holding a conversation with him was effortless and although you had barely talked, it appeared he was a good listener. Maybe that was just a vibe he gave off, but a part of you really wanted to find out. A yawn that you were unable to suppress escaped you and he offered you a soft smile, the corner of his eyes twinkling.
“Okay, well, I should head back to bed, I guess. Again, I’m so sorry for running into you like that,” you trailed off as you extended your hand, hinting toward wanting to catch his name, which you had yet to hear.
He hesitated momentarily before slightly nodding his head as if telling himself it would okay. “Shawn.”
It would have been a lie if you said you didn’t feel the tingle running up your arm as he placed his hand in yours to shake it. You couldn’t quite place what it was, but you stopped yourself before your mind could wander off and explore the various possibilities. He was a random man in a hotel, for Christ’s sake. It wasn’t like he was your soulmate and, besides, it was more than likely your sleep-deprived mind playing tricks on you.
“Y/N.”
“Y/N,” he repeated and the way your name sounded as it fell from his lips was enough to make your cheeks heat ever-so-slightly. He chuckled, bringing his hand up to rub his neck and you noticed a vaguely familiar swallow tattoo as he did. “It was nice, uh, of you to run into me? I mean, it was nice to meet you.”
You nodded quickly. “I guess my clumsiness was finally good for something. It was nice meeting you, too, Shawn. I would say ‘see you tomorrow’, but I doubt it. If I don’t sleep through my alarm, I’ll be at a meeting at 10am. I don’t know why I told you that and now I’m rambling, so…”
“’s a cute ramble, though, not a crazy one,” Shawn informed and if you hadn’t still been cold from the AC, you probably would have blushed. “Goodnight, Y/N. Have fun at your meeting.”
You reluctantly bid your goodbyes. With any other almost-stranger, it would have been incredibly awkward, but Shawn made you feel like you could say or do anything and he wouldn’t care. Maybe that was another reason you were so attracted to him; he made you feel secure and important. He definitely wasn’t like most guys you had run into before. Briefly, the bright idea of asking for his number crosses your mind, but you push it away. If he was hesitant about giving you his name, he definitely wouldn’t give you his phone number. You weren’t brave enough to ask, anyway.
You could feel his eyes on you as you made your way back toward the elevators. There were a few other people in the lobby, but you knew he was looking at you. As if to confirm your hunch, you threw a quick glance over your shoulder before you can stop yourself. His eyes met yours, proving your point, and he tossed his coffee cup in a nearby trash can. Your fingers mindlessly found the button and you waited impatiently, using every ounce of willpower not to turn around again. The descending elevator came to a halt, the familiar bell sound echoing as the doors opened. As you’re about to step inside, his familiar voice calling your name stopped you.
“What’s your room number?” he asked once you looked at him over your shoulder. “You know, so I can leave a bad review.”
His lips stretched into a smile that is too innocent for you not to return. The elevator doors began closing and you reached your hand out to stop them. Your mind filled with alarming thoughts about not knowing him, but you quickly pushed them away to let the curious ones take over. There was a feeling in the pit of your stomach telling you that you could trust him. Ignoring the fact that he didn’t necessarily need your room number to leave the review, you stepped into the elevator.
“402.”
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mrsgreenworld · 4 years ago
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Sen Çal Kapımı Episode 17 aka Expect The Unexpected
I know I have been quite slow with the reviews lately. I guess real life just got busier and messier. But my thoughts are always with the show, with our two crazy lovesick kids. I make sure to watch each new episode live, keep up with new fragmans.
I remember before episode 17 aired, after having seen the fragmans, I was ready for another filler episode. I was also a bit frustrated that instead of moving the storyline forward they decided to randomly throw in the pregnancy scare trope. However, the writers managed to surprise me with the episode that I hadn't expected much from. I also believe we might have got a bit of foreshadowing as well as an important catalyst to finally move the story forward.
But let's discuss all the good and bad in detail.
The things I loved/liked:
☑️ how balanced this episode was: the transition from the lighter and funnier first part to a more loaded second half with some longing between Edser, completely unexpected turn of events at the party and finally - that gut-wrenching final scene; everything was done at the right pace, at least it felt that way to me; they didn't drag on the pregnancy misunderstanding, it was resolved in one day which I was more than happy with (it could've lasted for days 😬);
☑️ Serkan: my baby is back where he belongs - among all the things I loved about the episode 🥰❤️
honestly, Serkan and his response to the whole situation was one of the main highlights for me - it was hilarious, it was adorable, it was sweet, it was loving;
I have already mentioned before that I absolutely love how attuned to Eda Serkan is; this episode wasn't an exception; do you remember the moment he realised something was up? it literally took a comment from Leyla to Eda about tea and our boy's eyebrows immediately furrowed in confusion and suspicion; and when he came up to Eda to tell her they would work together and asked if that was okay - of course he noticed how Eda's face changed before she left for the bathroom; and a concerned hubby that he is he asked Leyla what was wrong and then instructed her to keep tabs on Eda - swoon 🥰😍
that phone call to the family doctor and his face when he heard the doctor mention pregnancy - 🤣🤣🤣🤣
and then his comment about Ebola completely cracked me up - he's such a hypochondriac 👀😬🙈😂
his bathroom meltdown - comedy GOLD! Kerem was spectacular in that scene, his facial expressions as well as that "NE???!!!" - worthy of a standing ovation 👏👏👏 and it proves what a great actor he is in both funny comedy moments and loaded dramatic scenes; it gets me rolling on the floor when he juggles all sorts of facial expressions and I drown in my own tears when he cries;
then there were tiny adorable moments that, I think, really spoke volumes yet again what sort of person Serkan is - kind and caring, someone who loves deeply; when he told Eda not to sit down so fast, when he asked if she was hungry, tried to make her sit down, was worried that she was cold, took unhealthy snacks from her and got her fruit and nuts instead, was making sure she was comfortable, kept glancing at her stomach - all that was a sneak peek at what Serkan Bolat will be as a father; he will be such a mother hen and when Eda is actually pregnant I swear he will be the one more hormonal 🤣😂😆
I loved that he shared his suspicions with Engin;
his reaction when the misunderstanding got cleared up - I was rolling on the floor 🤣🤣
and while he was relieved it didn't look bad on him; it wasn't a type of relief when a person doesn't really want kids or doesn't want them with this particular person and thinks "oh, that was close!"; I am sure when it comes to Eda Serkan wants to make their own football team of Mini-Bolats; he wants this woman to have his children - I believe it without a shadow of doubt; however, I am also sure that, given the current situation Serkan and Eda are in, Serkan wouldn't want to tie Eda to himself like that;
the party - when he saw Eda in the dress he had bought for her 🔥🔥🔥🔥; I am sure he was useless in the conversations he was trying to make because his focus was entirely on Eda, he was following her every move with hungry eyes; damn, Sir! at least try to be a little more discreet 😏🥵
I loved how he asked Eda point blank if she had chosen the dress on purpose - he wasn't even trying to hide how affected he was;
and finally - of course there was that final scene with Serkan when he completely LOST IT; honestly, watching him break down like that - gave me chills;
we had never seen him like that; it's a well-known and established fact what kind of a person Serkan Bolat is - he's a control freak who can and is good at keeping his emotions in check, he doesn't express his feelings easily or even at all that's why he comes off as a cold and emotionless robot; so can you imagine how bad the situation has to be for him to lose it like that and not in the privacy of his home, where he's alone, but in the office, with all his employees and friends as witnesses?
the situation is really Serkan's worst nightmare due to the number of reasons:
1 - Serkan is a control freak (as I have already mentioned many times) and being in a situation where he cannot control something is hard for him psychologically;
2 - Serkan is a perfectionist and perfectionism often stems from the fear of making mistakes because a person was raised this way, wasn't allowed to make any mistakes as a child; we have even heard it from Serkan himself in one of the conversations with his father - he grew up thinking he had no right for mistakes, thinking that he must have done something wrong for his parents to just send him away;
3 - the cruel irony of this situation being so similar to what had happened to Eda's parents;
of course no one died but it could have happened; then Serkan would have turned into his father (in his own mind and eyes); it's just like Eda's parents all over again; can you imagine what kind of thoughts were going through his head? how he's cursed or something, that he really doesn't deserve Eda, that his family taints everything it touches... 😭💔
Kerem's acting in the last scene was truly one of his best and strongest Serkan moments👏👏👏👏;
☑️ Eda: one of my absolute favourite things about our girl is that she keeps her word; there are not many people who do this in life (while I myself try to keep my promises I, unfortunately, often fail);
I was so proud that, no matter what's going on between herself and Serkan, Eda didn't refuse to help Aydan and promised that they would work on her phobia together;
I also loved Eda's idea with the virtual tour around London - very creative and thoughtful way to help Aydan get out of the house without actually leaving the house because baby steps, this cannot be rushed, this type of problems don't go away at the snap of our fingers;
while I find it a bit strange that Eda volunteered to babysit a random couple's child (me and Serkan both, he also said that he doesn't understand Eda 🙈😆) it's another great manifestation to the type of a person she is - kind, loving, generous, ready to help even complete strangers; moreover, the whole situation with the baby allowed us to sneak a peek at Eda as a mother;
and speaking of that scene where Serkan said he didn't understand Eda and wanted to know why she would agree to help people she didn't know - I freaking LOVED how unapologetic she was when she said it's who she is; so he either accepts her for who she is (the way she accepted him) or he can be on his merry way; that's such a joy to watch - a woman who's not sorry for who she is, who loves and respects herself and demands the same respect in return 👏👏👏💞💞💞;
finally, there was the final scene but before that there was also a small moment after the roof had collapsed, when they were still at that house - everybody had left and Eda asked Serkan if there was something she could do, if he wanted to be left alone; she gave him what he wanted and needed in that moment;
but the next day, in the office, after having witnessed his breakdown Eda shows her unwavering belief in Serkan; I loved how she was able to put aside her hurt, maybe to an extent even her pride, and come to him; how she didn't back down and in that moment refused to leave him alone because she knew that wasn't what he needed, he needed her; and she was there, she was there when it mattered;
☑️ Edser: these two idiots are broken up but I swear they couldn't look or act more married; that's basically what we got in this episode - a flashforward of sorts where Edser are married with a kid and expecting another one;
however, this episode also provided us with some longing and lots of UST at that party;
and again there were subtle nods to them being soulmates, which manifested itself in how attuned to each other they were (Serkan with the pregnancy, Eda at the end of the episode) and also the parallel scene at the very beginning with both of them boxing - the same choice of activity to take their minds off of each other (it was also hot as hell 🔥🔥🔥🥵);
☑️ Aydan: OMG CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS?
yes, Aydan made it into this category!😱😲
but the writers had really been doing a good job with her and actually showed character growth;
at the beginning of the episode when Eda confronted Aydan about what she had overheard Aydan tried to make something up and said how it was her who had convinced Serkan that they were wrong for each other; what I really enjoyed in that moment was how uncomfortable Aydan looked while saying all those things; it was basically written on her face that what she was saying wasn't true, that wasn't how she felt, she understood that it would hurt Eda to hear that and she didn't want that; it's such a stark contrast to Aydan from episode 11; does anyone remember episode 11? well, I do, perfectly well; I was ENRAGED; Aydan back then said how Eda was not the right match for her son, she was cruel and she didn't even give a flying flip that her words were hurtful for Eda;
it was also nice to see how humbled Aydan was while receiving Eda's help;
☑️ Engin: basically the fact that he continues being the best best friend ever and his reaction to Eda's possible pregnancy - PRICELESS!🤣🤣🤣
I think Engin is the second (after Eda) and the last person who can get away with pulling Serkan Bolat by his cheeks 🙈😆😂
I also really enjoyed Engin's dig at Serkan's character and how he hoped his nephew/niece wouldn't take after Serkan 🤣🤣🤣;
The things I didn't like / was annoyed with:
❎ Efe: oh, he's one bad motherfucker!😠😡🤬😤
from pretty much openly threatening to teach Serkan a lesson to actually fucking up those blueprints and setting Serkan up - THE *UCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?
it was clear from the phone call with his secret partner that he hadn't planned for it to go like that but still his intentions had clearly been far from good and he deserves whatever is coming his way; like Serkan Bolat coming for his head and ending his career 🙄😎;
❎ Pırıl and Engin: the whole jealousy thing was so far-fetched and tiring to watch; to me Pırıl seemed a bit too territorial, it's quite obvious that Engin had only eyes for her; Engin was too oblivious and honestly I feel bad for him because the writers turn him into a bigger idiot (when it comes to women) with each new episode;
❎ Selin: the same thing over and over again, in each new episode she's unbearable; she just walks around with bitch face, complains about everything and everyone but ultimately serves zero purpose;
this character is so focused on herself that she didn't even seem bothered by her conversation with Efe where he basically threatened Serkan; there was a poor attempt with that "should I be worried?" but it was enough for Efe to just smile at her and she let it slide 🤦🤷;
in that scene at the office with Ceren and Ferit the behaviour she demonstrated was the one of a pre-schooler or maybe immature teenager but definitely not of a grown-up woman;
❎ Ceren and Ferit: while they started out really well, I enjoyed their first meeting, then it got weird and their interactions became awfully uneven; Ceren is really overdoing this hot and cold thing;
while I liked how Ceren stood up for herself after Selin's outburst, I think all of that should have been said to Selin's face, not Ferit's.
And that's pretty much it! Finally!🥳🥳🥳
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P.S. Wanted to post my episode 18 review today as well, before episode 19 airs, but it's still not ready, need to cut down some stuff cause it's turning into a freaking monster 🤦😱
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