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#Sinister Spotlight
monstersdownthepath · 9 months
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Demigod Dossier: Oni Daimyo, part 1
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(Pictured: Inma, Empress of the World, the greatest of the Daimyo)
Lawful, Neutral, and Chaotic Evil Incarnations of Debauchery and Depravity The Complete Book of the Damned, pg. 126~127
The Oni are an interesting bunch, to me. Each Oni begins its existence as a Kami, a spirit of the land directly created by the gods to preserve the world, as well as the relationship between nature and those with the power to change it (i.e. mankind). Any kami that fails to uphold the Laws of Golden Perfection, an esoteric series of laws no mortal being could hope to understand, becomes an outcast and is relieved of their duties once their replacement is crafted. Many kami simply fade into nonexistence, while some devolve into mindless nature spirits... but the majority of these disgraced stewards instead evolve into Oni, malicious spirit creatures that can form a physical body once they enter an area of mass death and tragedy.
Upon incarnating, all oni get to experience sensations for the first time. According to oni, their pathetic kami forms don’t feel, see, smell, or taste like their new flesh body does; everything is so much brighter, louder, tastier, more impactful once they have a physical form. So, naturally, oni completely devolve into pleasure-seeking hedonists hellbent on maximizing their exposure to every form of sensation they can get ahold of with the power they possess. Like the Rakshasa that some of them share an alignment with, the oni are intentionally a ‘less severe’ class of fiend a DM can sprinkle into their sessions with lower stakes; oni aren’t conquering worlds or destroying countries. Each one seeks their own satisfaction above anything else, so their villainous actions can be... varied. One may kidnap musicians because they wish to hear a song they wrote played by a professional, one may steal maidens of a specific holy order because their blood tastes the best, and one may level a city block because the buildings were blocking the sunlight shining through their favorite stained glass window. Destructive and scary, but not world-shaking.
The Oni Daimyo we’ll be looking at today are the end result of a very specific process that oni can go through: Oni view mortals as taking the wonders of the world for granted and enjoy punishing those who don’t go out of their way to enjoy what they can have and destroy what they cannot (i.e. anyone who isn’t an evil hedonist). They believe that the greatest pleasures only become so when they’re taken from another... and thus a Daimyo emerges from the horde when it realizes that “another” includes other oni. Browbeating their lesser kin into obedience, all Oni Daimyo acquire the power of a demigod by brute force, tyrannizing lesser oni into providing the ascending fiend with excess and experience until it ignites a divine spark within them. The three we’ll be looking at today are the ones that caught my eye among their small number...
Oni Daimyo work freely and happily with mortals, seeing them as toys, tools, or perhaps even partners and consorts. Whatever role they serve in a Daimyo’s court, those who devote themselves fully to the Daimyo’s ideals can access a cache of divine magic they can exploit. Worshipers receive Boons that are are relatively simple: a trio of spell-like abilities, each of which may be used 2/day. Boons are normally gained slowly, at levels 12, 16, and 20, however entering the Evangelist, Exalted, or Sentinel Prestige Classes can see the Boons gained as early as levels 10, 13, and 16.
Oni Daimyo come across the entire spectrum of Evil alignments, but they’re not demons, devils, or daemons, and thus the Demoniac, Diabolist, and Souldrinker classes are barred to them without DM fiat.
Inma, the Empress of the World Lawful Evil Daimyo of Lavish Wealth, Origami, and Servitude Domains: Community, Evil, Law, Nobility Subdomains: Family, Home, Leadership, Tyranny
Obedience: Craft delicate origami representing those you seek to rule over. Benefit: Gain a +4 profane bonus on saving throws against mind-affecting effects.
Aw, how nice :) Inma is the most powerful of the Daimyo, so it’s ironic to me that she has one of the most peaceful Obedience rituals. Quite a few of the Daimyo, in fact, have rituals that can easily be hidden or passed off as a form of meditation, making it easy to hide your faith in the hedonistic fiends even under close observation. Who in their right mind is going to wonder if you’re evil for folding paper? I do appreciate that Inma doesn’t make you dramatically crush or burn or otherwise dispose of the folded figures, because it means you can unfold the origami and re-use the same sheets for your next Obedience. It’s a small thing, but I like when recycling your ritual materials is an option.
Unlike many Obedience rituals that can be quashed by being robbed or imprisoned, you can perform origami with just about any flat, flexible material of the appropriate size. In a pinch, you can tear cloth into strips and fold them as well. Again, it’s small, but I appreciate the flexibility and ritual resilience.
And the benefit? Incredible. Blanket +4 to saves against the biggest class of Save-or-Suck spells and effects in existence, making you that much harder to charm, Dominate, mislead, distress, and emotionally manipulate. A +4 to saves against ALL mind-affecting effects rather than a subset like compulsions is incredibly rare and should be appreciated for how many times it’ll probably save your life (and your party’s life) over the course of your adventuring career!
Boon 1: Create Treasure Map Boon 2: Charm Monster Boon 3: Extended Dominate Person
Create Treasure Map is a somewhat niche spell, but one I’m happy to have as a spell-like (especially since it ignores the 100gp component cost) rather than needing to use a precious spell slot or waste spells known to have available. It’s a little gruesome, requiring a portion of a slain creature to use--typically a stretch of skin or piece of its hide--but it creates a map between where you’re standing and up to 3 (+1 per 3 levels) caches of whatever that creature considers valuable, along with whatever features and dangers the creature remembers being on the way there. Don’t bother using this on animals and unintelligent beasts as all you’ll get is food stores or perhaps its nest (which, hey, if that’s your objective...), but on various bandits and baddies, you’ll be pointed right to their treasure caches (alongside whatever else they saw as worth remembering). The map even works on any scale, so whether the target’s treasure is 30 feet or 300 miles away, you’ll get your quest objective... just know that the wider a net you cast, the less reliable the map becomes. It notes hazards the creature remembers, but some may be too small to actually show up if the map covers enough territory.
The next two can be lumped together fairly easily, as both are excellent tools at 1/day, let alone the 2/day that your Daimyo grants! Charm Monster is an off-switch for a potentially painful encounter, making a temporary friend out of any monster you may meet on your journeys, which has as many applications as you can possibly imagine. With a duration of a day per level, you can more or less keep a creature (or even several creatures) permanently on your side, perhaps even long enough to convert them into a friend WITHOUT magic, as morally questionable as such a thing may be (but you are Evil, so...). Dominate Person isn’t as flexible when handling encounters as Charm Monster, as it only works on Humanoids and Monstrous Humanoids, but there’s a lot of Humanoids in the world, and two free castings of “gain an ally that will fight for you” that lasts for weeks on end and have no components so even people carefully watching you won’t know you’ve just turned their guards against them. Having the spell be Extended feels like overkill considering it also lasts for a day per level, but if you need to send your new thrall on an extended errand, it can be useful to have them in your pocket for four weeks instead of two. Between these two spells, castable twice each, you can amass an entourage in a shockingly short time... in fact, to preserve the DMs sanity, you may want to limit the Domination to just two creatures at a time!
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Gyuku, the Sea Devil Chaotic Evil Daimyo of Piracy, Tea, and Tsunamis Domains: Chaos, Evil, Strength, Water Subdomains: Entropy, Fear, Ferocity, Oceans
Obedience: Perform a tea ceremony on the shore of an ocean or while blindfolded. Benefit: Gain a +4 profane bonus on saving throws against water-based effects.
Another cute one! Despite Gyuku being one of the most violent of the Daimyo, her daily ritual is a meditation and centering ritual. There’s something ironic about a Chaotic Evil hedonist demanding her followers calmly make tea every day, but I suppose when you’re an Oni, you get really serious about how your food is prepared. I appreciate that in contrast to other oceanic demigods, she DOESN’T lock you to the shorelines like the others do, allowing you to practice your tea ceremony blindfolded if you can’t, for whatever reason, access the sea. Regardless of the alignment of your allies, few will see anything off about you performing such a small ritual every day, allowing you to masquerade as Good, or at least hide your faith from investigators and guards...
It’s an Obedience with no listed cost, but you’re still not likely to perform it if your belongings get pilfered, but you don’t even need a particularly expensive set. Even just a cup of hot water and a single bag of tea will allow you to do something to please your Daimyo enough to get your power for the day... especially if granting you your power would let you wreak havoc on the people who stole from you in the first place.
The benefit is, in stark contrast to the first of the Daimyo, underwhelming. Water-based attacks and spells are few and far between, and most of them are more of an than an inconvenience than something you really need to worry about. In many cases, this just reads “+4 to saves versus being knocked prone,” but there’s nevertheless a decent few Adventure Paths (yes, Reign of Winter; many Cold spells also have the Water descriptor!) where this ability would come in handy... outside of those, though, this benefit is sub-par.
Boon 1: Slipstream Boon 2: Control Water Boon 3: Heroes’ Feast
Alright, cute. Slipstream isn’t an especially useful spell, sitting in the pile of “spells I would never prepare but find inoffensive to have for niche scenarios.” It lasts well over an hour when you first get it and goes up by 10 minutes/level from there, but all it functionally does is add +10ft to the target’s walking speed. Nothing special, but I’m sure the Heavy Armor Enjoyers in the party will appreciate being able to walk at normal human speed for a few hours a day, with the amusing option of getting an extra +10 on top of that if they so happen to be traveling downhill. The real usefulness of the spell is the +20ft to the target’s swim speed, letting them travel with decent swiftness underwater; if they don’t already have a swim speed, they gain one! Unfortunately they don’t get any ability to breathe underwater, but since even weedy little nerd Wizards can hold their breath for over a minute at a time (provided they didn’t dump Con (don’t do this)), it’s not much of an impediment if you just need to dive down and then back up. Think of it like a ‘swim underwater’ spell that has an added bonus once you’re no longer IN the water! That at least makes it less disappointing.
Unlike the next spell, which has a myriad uses. Control Water allows you to create whirlpools, stop floods, create floods, shape water pillars, and generally screw with the depth and shape of enormous patches of water for hours at a time, making you the bane of ships, which is perfect for a follower of a goddess of piracy! Whether it’s trapping victims to make them easy pickings, raising pillars behind you to block off enemies, flooding dockside towns, or slamming Water Elementals and the like with a nigh-permanent Slow, your crew will no doubt appreciate your control over water (though everyone else will likely be a little unenthused),  In other scenarios I’m afraid it’s not as useful, but I’m sure there’s plenty of moments when draining enormous amounts of water from a room or causing even more water to flood out of a specific receptacle would solve a puzzle that’s otherwise halting your party. I do appreciate that Control Water also specifies it can be used “on similar liquid,” though what is similar to water and thus what can be affected by the spell is left up to the DM to decide.
Control Water offers utility to a scurvy dog and the mangy crew, but Heroes’ Feast offers to cure that scurvy and provide the most important resource a captain must be aware of: Morale and loyalty. There’s little that can keep a pirate crew happy like being allowed to eat a Heroes’ Feast every single day, once at breakfast and once again at dinner, and you’re able to whip up a meal for up to 16 people per casting when you first get this ability, which covers yourself, the ships’ officers, and some extra crewmates you’ve grown to like or who you believe deserve the honor. As one of my favorite spells I’ll sing the praises of the Feast every chance I get, and while it may be underwhelming in terms of spells that make you a better pirate, having it available twice a day will, if nothing else, assure sickness, poison, and starvation are no longer a concern on the seas, AND make you beloved by everyone who regularly partakes... and should they get too used to your food, to the point of relying on its availability and not stocking up on their own rations... well, it’d be awful unfortunate if your ‘allies’ didn’t pay for the privilege to continue feasting.
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Nataka, the Red King Neutral Evil Daimyo of Drought, Perfume, and Forest Fires Domains: Destruction, Evil, Fire, Weather Subdomains: Arson, Catastrophe, Seasons, Smoke
Obedience: Meditate within a ring of fire while periodically casting incense into the flames. Benefit: Gain a +4 profane bonus on saves against fire effects.
All three of the Daimyo that caught my attention have a similar theme to their Obedience ritual: It’s simple, easily disguised as a Neutral or Good act, and has no listed cost requirements. Even in this case, the ritual is easily waved off as a ritual to Sarenrae or any other number of benevolent sun gods. After all, like with Inma’s peaceful origami and Gyuku’s lovely tea party, who’s going to suspect you’re serving an evil spirit just because you want to smell nice? The only real problems I can envision are if you’re in an environment where creating a ring of fire is dangerous to the surrounds (in a dry, flammable area) or for you (such as in an enclosed space), though if you’re recklessly Evil you may not care about the former.
There’s not much more to say about it except that you’ll need to stock up with a lot of incense each time you’re in civilization (or learn to craft it yourself!), because you’ll quickly burn (badum-tiss) through your supply even if you’re being conservative with it. The +4 to saves versus fire effects is a very common benefit for Obedience rituals, but it’s always welcome because fire effects themselves are common at every level. From dodging Fireball to ducking beneath a dragon’s breath weapon, it’s boring but it’s likely to be useful for your entire adventuring career.
Boon 1: Flame Blade Boon 2: Extended Cup of Dust Boon 3: Maximized Fireball
Flame Blade isn’t a spell we’ve seen as a Boon before, so here’s the rundown: For 1 min/level, you conjure a scimitar of fire that you can attack with like a normal weapon. It deals 1d8 Fire damage, +1 per 2 HD you have (max +10). Importantly, it resolves as a melee touch attack and, since the Sentinel is an option to gaining the Boons early, it’s your absolute best bet for following Nataka for two reasons: 1) maximum BAB, allowing for iterative attacks with your flaming weapon, and 2) Scimitars are your Daimyo’s sacred weapon, allowing the Sentinel’s Symbolic Weapon ability (+1 to attack and damage rolls per 3 Sentinel levels) to work with the spell! Even if you don’t go into Sentinel, it also benefits from the Warpriest’s Sacred Weapon ability... though it won’t surpass the spell’s base damage until level 10, so that’s more of a later-game thing. Though the list of creatures with Fire Resistance or immunity is long, the creatures without either is just as lengthy, as is the list of creatures who take extra damage or debuffs from Fire. The duration of 1 min/level means it may even last multiple combats, giving you 2 or 3 (or more!) fights where you’re hitting a target’s touch AC, though be warned that the blade is made of pure fire and its damage is thus unaffected by your ability score modifiers. It’s a small but important tradeoff if you rely on high modifiers for their base damage.
Compared to Flame Blade, Extended Cup of Dust feels a little silly. The spell already lasts an eternity, so doubling its duration feels unneeded, as does being able to use it twice a day. If you want someone dead, just hit them four times a round with your sword. This is for making someone suffer, and suffer for a long time. I can see casting it on a fleeing adversary to make their life in the coming days as miserable as possible, but otherwise its only real use is tormenting NPCs or extorting creatures with low saves. Using it on a creature whose power is fueled by their ability to drink something is especially hysterical, but such opportunities will be few and far between. 
Which brings us to... Maximized Fireball. There’s not much to say here that hasn’t already been said about the spell that’s a permanent part of the spell list of every Sorcerer and Wizard from level 5 onward. All Maximized does is assure you’re always getting 60 Fire damage in a 20ft radius explosion. 60 flat damage (30 if the enemy succeeds their save). twice a day. There’s better Boons out there, but against anything not immune to Fire, especially clusters of enemies, you’ll be hard pressed to find them.
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comicbooktradingcards · 8 months
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Character Spotlight | Hobgoblin | Part 2
Part 1
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occamstfs · 1 month
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Terracotta Turmoil
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Another muscle growth racial TF! I went with phonetic Chinese rather than using Chinese characters as it feels hotter to me to be able to read the phonetics! Hope y'all enjoy! -Occam
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Chase was beyond excited for the opportunity that his museum has recently secured. It didn’t seem possible, and perhaps the provenance isn’t exactly strictly clear or legal, but some donors have ensured that an exhibition is soon to begin. Before that though Chase simply had to sneak a look and wandered into the exhibit’s worksite to closely observe the artifact. 
Upon seeing it Chase is less than impressed with the artistry and history of the object instead thinking of what a score they have wrung from whatever schmuck had it. Chase begins counting dollar signs in his head as he approaches the statue, getting close enough to touch it when he sees a flash in the statue’s lifeless eyes. Keeping his mind ever focused on financial gain his eyes race to meet those of the terracotta statue in front of him where he finds naught but the cold rage-filled gaze of a warrior.
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He rolls his eyes and begins to step away to plan the promotions for the exhibit when suddenly he hears a voice in his head, in a language he cannot understand, “Rúguǒ nǐ yào bǎ nǐ de yìzhì qiángjiā gěi wǒ. Ránhòu wǒ huì bǎ wǒ de qiángjiā gěi nǐ” (If you shall impose thine will upon me. Then I shall force mine upon you.)
Chase suddenly scans the room for whatever coworker must be pranking him, though he is sure that none of them know Chinese anywhere near the fluency of his voice. His eyes flicker to the door as it slowly creaks closed with a click, the lock turning by itself. Chase turns with a suspicious look to the statue. His concentration flickers as he once again sees a glint in the statue’s impenetrable eyes. Chase is not a superstitious type but something unnatural was occurring and he wasn’t to be caught on the back foot. 
He is mousy and short but tries to stand tall and puff his chest up at the statue as he starts to engage, “Your, uh yìzhì?”(Will?) Wh-” Despite his meager attempt at bravado he immediately falls back in shock finding himself speaking in a tongue that he never even had a passing desire to know. He stumbles back away from the statue, still facing it. The lights dim in the room and the glitter of the statue’s eyes begin to glow outright, “Wǒ bù xǐhuān shǐyòng nǐ de shēntǐ, nǐ zhège chètóuchèwěi de shǎguā. Dàn nǐ jiāng chéngwéi wǒ líkāi zhèlǐ de ménpiào." (I take no delight in using your body, you utter fool. But you will be my ticket out of here.)
Chase is compelled to make eye-contact with the merciless eyes as they burn a hole into his mind. He is immediately beyond confused and dizzy, no longer sure of anything in the world besides the fact that his condition is only to rapidly deteriorate even further. He feels himself lose control of his mouth as drool begins to pool within it. Little loss though as he is rapidly losing the ability to form any thoughts in English anyway. 
He falls to his hands and knees, mouth agape as he spits up onto the floor. The floor shines like a mirror reflecting the light above as a spotlight onto him and making evident the sinister shine of the statue’s eyes as they continue to burn. He stares at his hands clenched on the floor struggling to latch his mind on any thought that remains. As he struggles suddenly a thought appears through the fog as if it were the most evident thing in the world, Diāoxiàng bù shǔyú zhèlǐ (The statue doesn’t belong here.) 
Chase isn’t even taken aback as his mind starts to return, now using a language he’s never learned. If his thoughts are all in Chinese there is no conceivable explanation beyond that it is the language that he was raised in, but he was gweilo(western) no? He brings his eyes to look at his reflection in the recently waxed floor to see something immediately jarring. His mouth is still ajar, still slightly leaking drool, but his reflection looking back at him has an unmistakable scowl and smirk. 
He recoils, though staying on the ground, as he notices that his short messy hair is starting to grow and straighten. His sandy blonde locks swiftly begin to darken as they lengthen into something far more fashionable. He feels his face respond to the unconscious worry in his mind at seeing his appearance change. In response his reflection bares its teeth as the scowl becomes crueler, the eyes beginning to glow just as the statue’s did. 
He forces his eyes shut to avoid them being penetrated by the burning gaze once more. He is no longer able to open them as he feels his eyelids throb and tighten. Chase grunts and clenches his teeth as pain surges through his face before he forces his eyes back open and is once more greeted with unfamiliarity in his reflection. Impossible to miss were the epicanthic folds that now hang over his blue eyes. He continues to stare at them, seeing his skin begin to pale and smooth as his hair turns black to the roots and his eyes begin to darken, slowly turning brown.
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Chase stares at his own irises as they almost move beyond brown to instead be as pitch black as his hair. At the same time a laugh that Chase still recognizes as his own rings through the exhibition hall, though each echo as it returns back to his ears is deeper than the one that came before. He clutches at his hóujié (adam’s apple) feeling it throb larger into his hand. He gasps sharply, feeling more air rush into his lungs as he takes a breath deeper and more labored than ever before.
Now with only one hand keeping him from falling to the ground Chase watches as the eyes of his reflection glow with a rage centuries old, challenging him to not fall on his face as he feels the force of gravity upon him ever-more difficult to ignore. Just before totally collapsing he wrenches his hand from his neck to catch his fall. Struggling against the weight of his body as it feels heavier by the moment, Chase feels his arms begin to strain the sleeves of his dress shirt. Sweat drips from his hair to stain his reflection as his biceps force themselves larger than his shirt could possibly hold. 
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Drawing off all the remaining will, or yìzhì rather, he has to resist. He pushes himself higher from the ground rising further than his arms should be able to push him. His biceps burst with power as they grow to the size of a lesser man’s thighs. Sweat drips down his massive arms trailing from thin but present black hair now filling his pits. Chase looks towards his chest and no wonder his breaths were suddenly nigh-impossible, the buttons had already burst from his dress shirt as pecs had forced themselves from his chest and below them abs defined as those you see on only the most prodigious bodybuilders. 
Chase smirks to himself seeing how he has grown. He knew he simply could not let himself fall, his people were zhànshì (warriors) after all. His proud smirk is now truly mirroring his smug reflection. Chase flexes every muscle he can in his more powerful body, feeling the strain of his strength as he tests the limit of each newly formed muscle group. His whole body convulses in pleasure as he becomes acquainted with the power now within him. He feels his hitherto ignored cock grow firm as he feels nothing but pride for his body and his homeland.
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He pushes himself fully off the ground to land on his ass as it too grows to break past the limit of his pants. No longer looking at his reflection Chase feels his thighs tear through his jeans and his feet grow large enough to make finding any replacement shoes impossible. His briefs struggle to hold his still growing erection as he continues to bask in his body and power as he finds himself once more sitting in front of the terracotta soldier. 
Rather than seeing it as the financial boon that he intended to when he walked in. Chase now sees it as a testament to the artistry and history that his home country deserves. He feels a fire burn in his chest as rage begins to fill him at seeing such an extraordinary artifact of his culture being subjected to this tourist trap of a museum. His eyes twitch as the last attachments to his old life fade beyond even his subconscious as he remembers the life and history of his real identity. 
Chen was not going to sit around and let this relic of Chinese opulence and power be disgraced by this sorry show. He looks down towards his reflection one last time and sees his face now perfectly mirrors the proud smirk that it has displayed since he first saw it. Chen laughs the same laugh he has always known, one deep and slow, as he stands to prepare his repatriation of this terracotta soldier. First things first though, he’ll need a few new friendly faces, a few new countrymen. He makes for the door whispering to himself as he feels his cock surge in his pants, “Dàodǐ shéi lái zǔzhǐ wǒ” (After all, who is going to stop me.)
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murdrdocs · 3 months
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dark content; ghostface!luke; explicit sexual content; MDNI
you have your suspicions that luke castellan isn't the man he portrays himself to be.
beneath his mournful gaze, woven between his sorrowful words, you're so sure that luke is insincere. his words of condolences to other campers lack a certain depth. his motivational speeches, always on the topic of remaining brave in the face of fear that these tragic incidents are creating, are disingenuous.
it's only natural that you have to investigate.
sneaking out past curfew on nights you weren't patrolling, offering to take up someone else's shift or just being there to provide a second set of eyes. but not on the scenery. on him.
because you're fairly certain that the monster isn't coming from outside of camp.
eventually you catch him standing in the center of the strawberry field facing away from you, swinging his sword as if the weapon is simply attached to his arm, the infamous mask described by others sticking out of his back pocket for you to notice.
you've seen luke fight. he's trained you in combat. you know that if he wanted to kill you, he would barely have any trouble doing so.
you would put up a good fight, but you would end up on your knees, waiting for the fatal blow.
is that why you don't bother fighting in the first place? or is it for some sicker, more sinister reason?
you like to think that your lack of resistance derives from knowing deep down that it would have failed. but it's hard not to consider the other implications whenever luke is smirking down at you, holding the weapon he affectionately introduced as backbiter to your neck, and your blood is rushing to places it shouldn't be.
your limbs should be taking most of the blood flood, creating a vibration in your legs and arms that would get you out of this situation quickly if need be. instead, your blood has rushed to your center, creating a thump! thump! that luke's hand—cupping your mound under your bottoms and above your panties—definitely can feel.
confirming your suspicions, luke's eyebrows furrows as he speaks. "is that?..."
your throat dries out. your nostrils flare as you take a sharp inhale designed to disguise the way you urge to roll your eyes back when luke starts to rub his hand along your center.
"are you turned on right now?"
the way he says it is so fucking cruel, but you honestly can't blame him.
it's deplorable, your behavior. your head tipped back not only to attempt to avoid the sharp tip of luke's blade against your jugular, but also because luke's fingers pumping in and out of you is so sinfully delicious.
here, in the middle of the field, surrounded by strawberries with the scent wafting to your nose with every gust of wind, you hope that the wind doesn't carry your noises.
the two of you are only lit by the torches off in the distance and the moonlight up above, providing a shameful spotlight onto your bodies. one standing strong and tall, shoulders pushed back with assurance and horrifying confidence making his gaze hard as he stares at you over the slope of his nose. and the other, slumped over with your head resting on luke's shoulder as an orgasm forces itself through your body.
it's wrong to curl up in the arms of a killer. it's idiotic to feel safe there.
backbiter has been stabbed into the dirt, sticking up straight, and with his freed hand luke cups the back of your head, stroking the area while his fingers replicate a similar motion in your panties.
"sh, it's okay, just let it happen, angel," he tells you, voice a rough whisper.
(does his voice sound deeper, or is that your subconscious acknowledging his sins?)
"i know you're feeling guilty, being with someone like me." he chuckles dryly as your orgasm fades out. "but it's okay. i promise you. i won't hurt you."
you know you shouldn't believe his words. but this is luke, the guy you at least thought you could trust with your life.
you do know you can trust him to give you a good orgasm, as his fingers refuse to stop within you, the digits picking up speed despite your feeble protests in the form of wobbly words.
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koiiiiijiii · 2 months
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HIII!! I've been reading your work for awhile🛐🛐 BUT I HAVE BEEN CRAVING MORE OF THE WAY YOU WRITE WOOIN ACTUALLY me and my friend have been reading your fics for awhile and go feral for them no specific scenario in mind TBH I HOPE YOU DON'T MIND THE WOOIN REQUEST!!🫶🏻🫶🏻
AHHH BIG LUV SIS APPRECIATE THAT U ENJOYING MY WORKS!! don't worry, my boy wooin are always welcomed here😌😌
im actually curious if you meant like possessive wooin? bc if so, good news, i have more here xo - xo
warnings : obsessive!wooin, my fav trop with him unrequited love, intrusive thoughts
notes : prob gonna do pt. 2 of this, bc this one kinda short, but not sure if u up to.. let me know!!
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୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀
Wooin would never dare to confess his true feelings for you. especially since that bitch Sangho said that someone should keep an eye on such misfits as Sabbath and let him and Ryu Juwon know that they didn't cause any other problems. yet, deep down, he couldn't deny the pull you had on him. despite the fact that you and Sung been just + 2 to Yoo Bin, he couldn't overlook your talents in cycling and your captivating beauty. but hell, he would ever say something romantic in your direction first.
it didn't faze him that you often accompanied Yoo Bin, he immediately noticed that although you and he had a close relationship, you two shared only brotherly bond, one that made him feel like an outsider longing for more. yet, there was something about the way you looked at the Joker, the way you talked to Hyeok or any other random or nouname from the competition who thought he had a chance to get to know you. it left him restless, trembling with jealousy whenever you disregarded him. how could you? wasn't he a vibrant personality, adorned with all his piercings, splitted tongue and a bright fashion style? since you join crew, hell even from inception of Sabbath, he had been there, injecting humor, exuding charisma, demonstrating sharp wit with his abilities to find source of income, and in his honest opinion, displaying less sullen and gloom than the rest. he thrived on the spotlight, assuming the role of leader effortlessly. but you, little bitch, still decided to play hard to get with him and ignore him.
when once again he saved you from some annoying piece of shit who kept begging for your number, you look at him over your shoulder with those incredulous, innocent eyes and he felt the earth disappear from under his feet. ah, those eyes of yours... Wooin never imagined he could be ensnared by someone's gaze. with just a flutter of your lashes, and he forgot his prepared excuses or jokes he was about to use as an excuse for the fact that he once again found himself alone with you, and again, rescuing you from unwanted attention.
he despised this feeling, yet he couldn't bring himself to admit that it was you he liked. no, it was something deeper, something sinister. it was an obsession, boiling loathing and hatred of everything around you, and that's all you voluntarily turned your attention to, but not to him, even when he was desperately struggling.
୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀
AHHHH SORRY!! I PLANNED TO MAKE IT DARKER BUT I FINISHING THIS ON LECTURE IN UNI sooo... u know... promise, i will do it darker, again if you guys are up to💋💋
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elryuse · 1 month
Note
Yandere idol gaeul obsessed with her non idol older childhood friend and snapped when she found out he has a gf
Jealous.
YANDERE IDOL GAEUL X CHILDHOOD MALE READER
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Gaeul, the captivating idol of the renowned girl group IVE, was the epitome of grace and charm on stage. Adored by millions, she danced to the rhythm of fame, her life orchestrated by spotlights and applause. Yet, beneath the dazzling facade, Gaeul harbored a dark obsession.
Amidst her whirlwind schedule, Gaeul's world collided with her childhood friend, Lee Y/n. His presence brought solace, a sanctuary from the relentless demands of stardom.
"Y/n, it's been so long," Gaeul smiled, her eyes betraying a longing that transcended words.
Y/n grinned back, the familiarity of their bond washing over him like a comforting embrace. "I've missed you, Gaeul. It's like nothing's changed."
With Y/n, she rediscovered the simplicity of laughter and the warmth of genuine companionship. As their bond deepened, Gaeul found herself ensnared in the melody of forbidden affection.
But fate's cruel twist revealed Y/n's devotion to another—a girlfriend whose existence shattered Gaeul's fragile fantasy.
"How long have you been together?" Gaeul asked, her voice betraying a hint of forced cheerfulness.
Y/n's smile faltered for a moment. "About a year now. She's amazing, Gaeul. You'd love her."
Consumed by jealousy, Gaeul's adoration morphed into a sinister obsession. With feverish determination, she vowed to erase Y/n's lover from the symphony of his life, leaving only the haunting echo of her own desire.
In the dim glow of her apartment, Gaeul's manic whispers mingled with the flickering light of monitors, plotting each move with meticulous precision.
"She doesn't deserve you, Y/n," Gaeul muttered to herself, her voice trembling with rage. "I'll make sure she never comes between us again."
From subtle sabotage to calculated whispers of doubt, Gaeul waged a silent war against Y/n's relationship.
"Are you sure she's the one for you, Y/n?" Gaeul's words dripped with false concern, her eyes gleaming with malice.
Y/n frowned, confusion clouding his features. "Why do you keep saying that, Gaeul? She's been nothing but good to me."
As the days blurred into nights, Gaeul's obsession consumed her, a wildfire devouring reason and morality.
But in her fervent pursuit, Gaeul failed to heed the warning signs of her own descent into madness.
"Y/n, please," Gaeul pleaded, her voice cracking with desperation. "Choose me. I can make you happy in ways she never could."
"I'm sorry, Gaeul," Y/n replied softly, trying to maintain composure despite the fear building inside. "I can't just leave her like that."
Gaeul's pleading turned into a dangerous edge. "But she doesn't love you like I do. She doesn't understand you like I do. You belong with me."
Y/n took a step back, feeling the weight of Gaeul's words. "I appreciate your feelings, but I need to do what's right for both of us. You're an Idol Gaeul.. And I'm just a normal guy".
Gaeul's desperation turned into rage. "You're making a mistake, Y/n. She's manipulating you. Can't you see that?"
Y/n's heart raced as she realized the depth of Gaeul's obsession. "I... I need to go now."
Gaeul grabbed Y/n's arm, her grip tight and possessive. "You're not leaving until you choose me. I won't let her have you."
Fear gripped Y/n as she struggled against Gaeul's hold. "Let go of me, Gaeul. This isn't love, it's obsession."
Gaeul's eyes flashed with a manic intensity. "I'll do whatever it takes to make you mine, Y/n. Even if I have to get rid of her."
"What The... ". Y/n Tried to get rid of Gaeul but it didn't do a thing. Gaeul's Obsession for him has grown too far and she would do anything to make sure he stays for good.
"Just be a good boy... And let me take care of thingsss babe..... ". Gaeul slowly carress your cold skin, As she giggles and slowly kisses your forehead.
"YOU'RE MINE NOW... SLEEP TIGHT BABE".
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jinnie-ret · 6 months
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I’m not entirely sure if you’d write this or not but could you write stray kids and like trainee reader who has divorced parents and is crying? You don’t have to write this and I understand if you don’t. If you do thank you
togetherness
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stray kids x ninth member!reader (platonic)
genre: very angsty
content warnings: divorce, allusions to a panic attack
word count: 2.7k
summary: out of all things, the last thing you expected to hear was that your parents are getting a divorce, but it was fortunate that the boys were there to hold you together
Thank you for the request! I did something silly and accidentally wrote it as a ninth member instead of a trainee, but she is still the maknae of the group so I hope that is still ok :)
MAIN MASTERLIST
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Ever since Stray Kids was confirmed to debut after the survival show all nine of you took part in, life had been a whirlwind. From training in the practice room to releasing several tracks, getting your first win was like a dream come true. Of course it would be 'Miroh' that people gave you recognition for, you couldn't deny how how much you loved the track too. However, there was a small part of you, scrap that, a big part of you that hoped '3rd Eye' would also gain that same level of attention. It's not a crime to be obsessed with your own music now, is it?
Due to how busy you had been, it had been just over a year since you had seen your parents, and for today to finally be the day you'd get to see them, you were practically bouncing off of the walls, so much so that the boys couldn't stop laughing at you, fondness radiating through all of them. You were the youngest, after all, only 14 when the show happened, and they had seen you grow so much already.
"Y/Nnie, calm down," Changbin chuckled as he tried to hold onto the sides of your arms, but you couldn't contain yourself as you excitedly paced up and down the wooden floors of the lounge.
"I can't help it... I'm so excited! I haven't seen them in ages, I missed them so much!" you cheered, accidentally bumping into Minho in the process.
He slowly turned around from his spot in the kitchen, stopping his minor task of pouring some juice.
"Do you like oranges, Y/N?" Minho turned to face you with a sinister grin.
"Oranges? I love orang-" you shrugged momentarily in confusion before gasping as he held the juice over your head.
"3,2..."
"Ah! Don't! I washed my hair today and everything!" you were rapid in your movements as you ducked away and took cover between Felix and Jeongin.
"Don't sacrifice us!" Jeongin's eyes were wide.
"Ah, you're being so cute today, Y/Nnie," Felix giggled, patting your head.
"Have you got everything you need, menace?" Chan asked you, letting out a laugh when you scrunched your nose at him in response.
"If anyone's a menace, it's Hannie, but yes," you answered his question whilst also turning the spotlight to Jisung, who was currently trying to grab Hyunjin's hair and tie it with a scrunchie of yours he had stolen.
"Who, me?" Jisung feigned innocence.
"Ah!" Hyunjin jumped not noticing Jisung behind him. "Bro, what are you doing?"
"Giving you a new hairstyle, Y/Nnie lets me do it all the time," Jisung shrugged, moving away from Hyunjin as it was clear his mission had failed.
"Yeah, small problem, Hyunjin's hair isn't long enough," Seungmin pointed out, making you laugh.
"I want to see Jinnie with long hair, woah," you nodded in approval at the idea.
"Y/N, you're getting distracted again," Changbin directed you towards the front door. He couldn't hide his smirk as he shook his head at your antics.
"It's like you're trying to get rid of me," you pouted, turning around with your hands on your hips.
"Never, but you really need to go," Minho joined him at the front door, jokingly pushing you out the door, making Felix yell out in surprise.
"Don't push the maknae!"
"Ok, ok, I'm going," you laughed, brushing a hand through your hair making sure it was perfect and not a single strand was out of place.
"Bye Y/N!" you heard them yell out in goodbye, before you made your way to the Korean BBQ place that wasn't too far away from your dorms. Initially you were going to go for a café, but your dad insisted that you see each other at your favourite kind of place.
And there they were, waving at you from across the road, small smiles on their faces that gree bigger the closer you got to them.
"Mum! Dad!" you ran up to them as you embraced them into a tight hug, their arms wrapping around you in return, both you and your mum getting teary eyed.
"Oh, I missed you so much sweetheart," she cuddled you closer to her, and pulled away as your dad planted a kiss on your forehead.
"Come on, darling, I bet you're hungry," your dad poked your cheek as he guided you through, sorting out the details of the reservation as you all sat down and began to catch up.
"I'm so glad I got some time off to see you, I just, I missed you so much," you sniffled, wiping your tears away before you full on sobbed in front of them.
"Aigoo, don't cry my dear," your mum wiped your tears as she dabbed a tissue across your cheeks and wrapped you in a side hug.
"We're so proud of you, Y/N, I know for sure we can both say that," your dad awkwardly glanced across at your mum, not that you noticed this exchange, too happy to be simply in their presence again.
"Thank you, I'm glad I can make you proud," you smile widely, your mum nodding along.
"You've achieved so much already, are the boys taking care of you, hmm?" she questioned, shifting her body to face yours more.
"-and then by the end of it we all just ended up falling asleep in the practice room, but I didn't mind, it was so comfortable, they truly are my brothers," you gushed as you retold one of your favourite stories of one of your earlier memories in your trainee days, just showing how strong your bond with the group was.
Whilst all of this was happening, your parents both had a nervous demeanour about them, not fully engaged in your story, something heavier weighing on their minds. How would their only child react when they told them?
"I-is something wrong? Oh, I'm rambling again aren't I, sorry, you can tell I haven't changed much," you finally picked up on their silences, the change of their normally relaxed mannerisms more apparent than ever.
"No, no, it's perfectly alright sweetheart, we just..." your mum trailed off, not knowing how to approach the topic.
"We have something to tell you, Y/N," your dad finished off your mum's sentence.
"Oh, what is it?" your heart dropped, sensing the serious tone coming through in the conversation. You fiddled with the chopsticks in front of you, trying to stabilise yourself, not knowing what was to come.
"There's no easy way to say this, darling, but... Your mum and I, we're getting a divorce," your dad couldn't look you in the eyes as he said this, wishing he could pretend he was looking for a waiter yet the enclosed booth you were in prevented him from doing so.
"No," you instantly said, disbelieving the words you had just heard, sure you had misinterpreted his words. In your strong reaction, you firmly placed the chopsticks down, head moving left and right as you glanced back and forth between your parents. A trio of a family, now split into three.
"Sweetheart, please, don't make this difficult," your mum began, sighing as she stared down at the table.
"D-don't make this difficult?! You're getting a divorce!" you leant back away from them, struggling to take in the situation as your heart raced.
"It hasn't been easy for us, please understand, Y/N," your dad pitched in, "we've been thinking about this for a long time now."
"How long?" your voice broke as you got quieter, the sight of your eyes welling up with tears breaking the hearts of your parents.
"For around four years now," your mum winced as she admitted how long their relationship had been in turmoil.
"Four, four years?!" your hands shook as you covered your face, absolutely devastated. Anyone that knew your family would have said it was absolutely perfect, even the boys who had only seen them on a few occasions.
"We had to make it work for you, Y/N, darling," your dad tried to grab your hand but you ripped it away from him, getting rid of that opportunity.
"You're putting this on me?" your voice wobbles, tears freely running down your face, leaving trails of grief in its wake. A grievance mourning the loss of something you'd never get back.
"Listen, we wanted to stay together for you, you just got into JYP, but now you've debuted we thought..."
"You thought I could handle it? Because my life is 'sorted'?! It's quite the opposite now," you sniffled, wiping your nose with the back of your hoodie sleeve.
"Y/N, we had to do this sweetheart, for the better," your mum tried to reason with you, tears of her own present.
"No, no, I... I can't," you scrambled out from your seat, running out of the restaurant without even having any of the food yet.
"Y/N!!!"
"Darling!"
Your parents desperately called after you, but you kept running away, finding a seat on a park bench to try and process everything that had just happened. They were divorcing, just like that. Were all the happy memories in your childhood as fake as the ones they created when they had been convincing you all this time that you were still a happy family? It wasn't fair. Could you even trust the words that left either of them now that they had revealed their biggest secret to you?
Without even knowing, your feet guided you away from the bustling streets of Seoul back to your true home. The family you had found solace in, that you'd be soon to find solace in once more, but for different reasons this time.
Like your body was on autopilot, your key twisted into the door of your shared apartment and you dropped your small bag to the floor, instantly falling to the ground as your knees buckled. You weren't aware of how bad of a state you were in, the mascara from your light makeup you applied earlier on in the day, now smudged under your eyes and faintly across the apples of your cheeks. Your chest heaved as you gasped for air, unable to comprehend everything that had just happened. You didn't even feel the arms that had wrapped around you and brought you to their lap, cradling you into the safety of their warmth.
"Miss, please, it's ok, she just got here, she's safe, I think, ummm, do you want to come to our dorm? I can send the address?" Chan hurriedly spoke into his phone as he glanced over at Jeongin holding you tightly to him, the other boys around you trying to provide you with enough space but their comfort at the same time.
"I, I think it's better if we don't," the voice of your mum sighed from the other side of the phone.
"What? But- oh," Chan was ready to convince them to come over and ask what had brought you to such a distressed state, but the call had already been ended from the other side.
"It's ok, you're ok, Y/N, just take some deep breaths ok? Ok?" Changbin whispered into your ear, trying to help you slow down not only your breathing, but your mind too as you were clearly in your own head.
Jeongin rubbed your back in soothing circles, and after a while, you felt yourself slowly calm down, alongside Jisung's instructions to breathe deeply, and the soothing feeling of someone scratching your scalp, who you found out later was Felix.
The boys were the only people who could ground you in this moment, providing you with the comfort the rest of your support system failed to do. Your thoughts were still in a whirlwind yet you managed to tune back into your surroundings.
"You're ok, that's it, well done love," Chan's voice broke through, as your tight grip on Jeongin's t-shirt lessened and your body was ever so slightly less tense.
"We should move her to the sofa," Hyunjin spoke quietly, as if he was afraid to break the calm you began to feel.
And so, you numbly walked to the sofa with the help of Seungmin's hand resting on your back, pulling you down gently to sit next to him. Like you normally would, you rested your head on his shoulder. But this was far from a normal situation.
"Y/N?" Changbin asked tentatively, hoping you'd respond. "Look at me, aegi."
"Mmm?" you made a sound with your croaky throat, sore from your crying which the boys were thankful for their own souls that they didn't have to listen to it anymore. They feared it would permanently leave an imprint on their hearts, so they were worried at what on Earth had happened to you.
"Can you tell us what happened?" Chan slowly questioned you, a gentleness behind his eyes that nearly made you tear up again.
What did happen? What would happen now?
"They... my, my parents, they're getting a divorce," your voice cracked again and you internally scolded yourself for it as the boys looked geared up to protect you at any cost.
"A divorce?" Felix gasped.
"Oh, no, oh Y/Nnie," Jisung sighed sympathetically.
"I just don't get why... why now?" you held your head in your hands. Having to explain everything that happened moments ago would have been more painful had it not been for your members attention on you as you all sat on the sofas in the lounge. The very same ones you had been joyfully skipping around earlier on that day.
"These things... they can be unpredictable sometimes, Y/Nnie," Seungmin squeezed you tighter towards him, leant forward with you.
"That's what I hate... they said it had been four years that they had been thinking about it, four years since they knew," you closed your eyes tightly, anything to imagine yourself not in this situation.
"Y/N, you couldn't have known," Jeongin tried to offer some comfort.
"They said they stayed together, for me. I was the reason that they didn't tell me after all this time," you gritted your teeth in frustration.
"No, no, don't do that, love, you weren't to know," Chan firmly said, the last thing he wanted was for you to feel guilt.
"It's not your responsibility to carry that weight," Minho sternly added, in the same mindset as Chan, hating that you were upset. Sure, he teased you for your hyperactive mood earlier but he much preferred that then seeing the storm cloud hovering above you.
"It is though. They faked their love just for me. How do I know they even love me?" you crumbled once more, tears rushing down your face as Hyunjin immediately crouched down in front of you with a tissue at hand.
"They could never stop loving you. It's hard, but just because they fell out of love with each other, doesn't mean they'd do the same with you," he grabbed your hands in his, before pressing the tissue into your hand for you to use.
It was almost funny. Your mother had dried your tears for you earlier and now you were doing it for yourself, feeling that childlike innocence being ripped away from you as you were forced to feel adult emotions.
"Please don't think that way, no one could ever not love you," Jisung insisted.
"I just... I don't even know anymore," you took in some deep breaths again, looking around you at your brothers who held so much love and compassion in their eyes for you. You could see it in how they sat, turned towards you with their undivided attention.
"You don't have to know, Y/N. You're not going to know how to feel straight away," Changbin validated your emotions that you couldn't sort out on your own. But that was why you were glad they were there, to heal you, to offer you that safety net of their permanence in your life.
"You're not alone, okay?" Minho's soft spoken voice was filled with love, smooth like honey.
You needed some space from your thoughts, some reprieve from the situation you had faced, but, even in your fragility, you could see, no, you knew the boys would forever be there to keep you together. And so what if the cracks showed? You had 8 members more than willing to not force you to be fixed, but to live with those cracks and learn to understand them.
tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain @sakufilms @hanjiquokkaaa @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky
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nnightskiess · 1 year
Text
the dance of death, part one
₊° - 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘞𝘦𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦, 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘢 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘞𝘦𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘥𝘢𝘺’𝘴 𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘥𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘴.
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the dance of death, masterlist
☾ ⋆*·:⋆*·:⠀ *⋆.*:·゚ .: ⋆*·゚: .⋆
𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗽𝗮𝗱 𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝘀. 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸.
𝐖𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐨... rip those damned pink and sparkly headphones off of Enid’s head. Although the cheerful girl had been so kind as to put them on in the first place, to not bother Wednesday’s peace, it didn’t silence the music completely. The loud, happy rhythm and beats along with Enid’s soft singing and jiggling in her seat made the girl want to rip her ears off her own head just to silence the noise. Complete silence was what she needed in order to finish writing tonight’s chapter. Her head was already one chaotic jumble of thoughts after today’s events in Jericho and it seemed that she wasn’t granted to quiet her mind with some writing either. 
She turned around, glaring hard and long at her roommate who danced in her spot on the bed, a pencil in her mouth as she read her textbook. How one was able to concentrate with hideous music overbearing everything, was a mystery to Wednesday. However, it seemed no difficult task for Enid, seeing as the girl was too concentrated to notice Wednesday’s glare, or the fact she was not being as quiet as she had promised. Thing trudged over Enid’s bright duvet covers to hand her an eraser, before he pointed out a mistake in her homework. 
“Thanks, Thing!” Enid spoke, not knowing how loud she had been.
Wednesday flared her nostrils, let out a quick breath and turned back around, immediately ripping out the paper from her typewriter. The few words she had written had not been too gripping anyway. 
When tidying up her desk, Wednesday’s eyes fell on her cello in the corner of her room. It lit up in the moonlight that softly shone through the large window, almost like a spotlight. It looked enticing, as if it was inviting her to play. If writing couldn’t help her clear her mind, she would try something else. The corner of her mouth twitched ever so slightly with the anticipation of probably waking up half the school with her cello playing so late at night, and maybe that was the push she needed to grab her beloved instrument and walk onto their dorm’s balcony. 
Wednesday loved playing the cello, she revelled in the deep, dark sounds it could create, how it made her fingers tremble with sound, how it would then echo through her soul and how certain notes, when played long enough, made her feel exactly like the gloomy emotions tugging at her heartstrings each and every day. 
When playing, she was one with her cello, but often times she still used sheet music to help her learn new sonata. There was, however, one song she knew to heart. It was the sole reason she had wanted to pick up a cello in the first place. Danse Macabre by Camille Saint-Saëns— the Dance of Death. While the violin played the most important role in Saint-Saëns' masterwork, and she loved the sinister sound of strings mending together as one, the high tones of the violins never quite had the same effect on her as her cherished cello. Her parents would waltz to it whenever Wednesday played it again and again in their big foyer back home. It had even become a tradition to play it in their favourite cemetery at midnight on the Night of the Death— what weird people would call Halloween. Although unfortunately no skeleton ever crawled out of their grave for this annual party, it was a lovely family tradition for the Addams Family nonetheless.
Perhaps, somewhere subconscious, because she would never admit it to herself, she was feeling nostalgic. Maybe even longing for home. But when she sat down and straightened her back into the right posture, the first few strings her fingers pushed down, played the depressed signature intro of her favourite song. 
Immediately, a weight fell of her shoulders, and she all but let out a large breath that she felt released everything that had happened today and the week before. There was no past or future, Wednesday was fully living in the moment, not even realising she had reached the end of the seven minute long tone poem before she started again, not caring that several lights had gone on inside some of the surrounding dorms. 
Her eyes were closed as she let her body sway to the music she was creating, but they snapped open when she heard something. Although distant, the melody travelled through the night as an echo and it made her look up when she realised what it was. Somewhere, someone was answering her cello play by complimenting it by playing the violin part. Although slightly delayed because their sound travelled through the harsh wind, it was unmistakable that whoever it was, was answering her playing by playing along to Camille’s masterwork. Instead of stopping out of surprise, Wednesday took the violinist’s reply as a challenge, and upped the tempo sooner than was expected. It was faint, and it took a couple of seconds before the warm but shrill sounds of the violin answered in the tempo she had set. The corners of Wednesday’s mouth softly turned into a crooked grin as she stopped, knowing the next part was meant for a violin to shine. She stared out into the dark of the Vermont night, trying to see where her antagonist was playing from. But not even this night’s bright moon could light up the balconies far away, for the fog was blocking her view. 
Just like she had hoped for, the violinist didn’t stop and hit every mark they were supposed to, making Wednesday catch herself softly swaying along. This was no ordinary player who had only recently picked it up. No, Wednesday’s admiration for this anonymous virtuoso was just and deserved. 
She grabbed her bow, preparing herself to play support for the violin's next few bars of this section. 
They were well into the composition, only having about two minutes left, so Wednesday knew what was to come. She looked down, through her thick lashes, smirked slightly, before once again upping the tempo, as was asked of the song. The cello’s dark, melancholic notes carried through the night and brought back those sinister violin tones. They clashed together, then mended as one. Like fire forging metal into a blade. 
Wednesday’s head bobbed with each accentuated note and her arm and hand almost ached from how tight she had been gripping her bow, adamant on not making a mistake. But she was forced to open her eyes once more when Enid’s voice rang through the night,
“Wednesday!”
Immediately, a glare coated her face at the interruption. So, Enid wasn’t going to grant her wish to write or play the cello? She didn’t know the girl had it in her to be so cruel in her own way. 
Wednesday spoke, lacing her voice with as much venomous annoyance as she could, “I was perfectly enjoying myself before you walked out.” 
“I think the whole school was perfectly enjoying their sleep before you walked out, too.” Enid looked incredulous, as if to ask how her roommate could care so little about others. 
“The night is the best time to be alive. Why would I care about those who don’t appreciate and take advantage of it like I do?”
“Well-” Enid stopped herself, not knowing of a witty or just comeback. She hadn’t known Wednesday for that long yet, but knew well enough that she’d hardly ever come out as a loser in a discussion or quarrel. 
“Maybe you should call it a day for now… well, night, more so.”
Thing’s steps on the wooden floorboard caught both of their attention. Wednesday glared at him, and he immediately crawled behind Enid’s legs. “I’m going back in, it’s freezing out here.” Enid quietly excused herself and lifted Thing off the ground. 
Wednesday let out a sigh once the two had disappeared. Her eyebrows furrowed in disappointment when she realised the wind no longer carried the sound of a violin. Maybe her counterpart had gone to bed as well. 
She begrudgingly packed her cello and walked back to the circular window and opened it, already half stepping in before she heard it— the heartbreaking yet soft and slow solo finale of the violin’s part. She could only hear bits and pieces, thanks to the wind picking up and letting out a howl here and there, but she knew they were still out there. For the first time in a while, she smiled softly. Maybe Nevermore wasn’t so bad after all. 
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© 𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗲𝘀𝘀
𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗽𝗮𝗱 𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝘀. 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸.
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reveluving · 5 months
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don’t know if you’re still taking shy!wife requests but if you are what about soap x shy!wife where he sits her in front of a mirror and makes her watch as he plays with her 🤭 but he stops if she looks away
WHY ARE YOU ENCOURAGING FICTIONAL ME’S ULTIMATE KINK UNPROVOKED
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Includes: mirror kink (minors DNI!), petnames ('baby'), fingering/fingerfu~cking, thigh-slapping, praising, teasing, edging, mentions of overstimulation
COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌
Come & check out my COD m.list!
It should’ve hit you why he had a sinister smile when you suggested adding a large mirror in the bedroom. Just an innocent idea, you wanted to make the space look bigger.
That was until he came up behind you, toying with the hem of your shirt as he purred.
“Y’don’t possibly think we wouldn’t have some fun with it, did’ya? Just imagine; holdin’ ya in front o’me, appreciatin’ these sweet curves with nothin’ coverin’ ya.”
Your wide eyes weren’t from mortification or anything the like, far from it. But it did make your heart jump like crazy. You were already a little ‘skittish’ at the thought of fully exposing yourself under a bright light, though Johnny, bless your husband, never giving up in showing you what he sees in you, body and soul.
And as he kissed your shoulder, judging by your silence, he knew he got you.
He was leaning against the headboard, his legs spread for you to occupy—handing the spotlight for you to dominate as he worked his wonders in the background.
He had a knack for slapping your thighs whenever his touch jolted you into covering your legs. Not painful ones, not unless you were feeling a tad naughty, just surprising ones, but a warning nonetheless. It contrasted with the way he was kissing you, alternating between soft kisses, the ones where he’d leave ticklish smooches on the corner of your lips, and then sliding his tongue against yours, a sign that he could barely conceal his patience.
Sighing in appreciation each time he spreads your lips with his middle and ring finger.
Murmuring praises against your neck in between his kisses.
“Ah-ah. You know the rules.”
“Y’hear that? Fuck. Y’already clenchin’, baby? Just one finger?”
“Eyes on the mirror, baby. That’s it. Such pretty eyes lookin’ a’me.”
“Can y’feel me throbbin’ against ya? If I just… roll my hips… Oh, y’like that, don’t ya?”
The expressiveness of your husband, his eagerness to please you while making you watch yourself didn’t help. Not especially when he doesn’t hesitate to stop, to tease you further whenever your eyes roll back to the point of nearly closing them.
His middle finger was soaked, and so was his ring. The band glistened in the dim light, having played and plunged in your tight heat like his life depended on it so he could hear your whines grow at a higher pitch whenever he’d pick up the pace. Stopping as soon as you closed your eyes whenever it got too much, too good.
His ring played a huge part in it at the start, feeling you jump each time he pressed the initially cold metal against your burning skin.
He found your attempts to wriggle away from his adorable, with one of his muscular arms folding your chest. All while his hand switched between kneading your beautiful breasts and digging his fingers into your soft skin, just enough for you to feel them the next day.
Your voice came out in a long, pathetic whine before you forced out his name, “Nghhh—Johnny…”
Music to his fucking ears.
His fingers were relentless, continuing to rub your clit feverishly, even when you were already three orgasms in. There was something about the way your lips parted every time, or how addictive how juices felt as they smeared most of his fingers or how ruined the sheets were.
Just how he liked it.
And unless you used your safeword anytime soon, he was already planning on laying you on your back, longing for a taste. The mess you had made on his fingers was just the start, shamelessly licking them off by your ear, and with a pop while locking his eyes with your glassy, fucked-out ones in the mirror.
He wanted, hell, he needed to taste you. The real deal. To flick your clit with his tongue, to tease along your lips from your tight hole and up, to nose at the stain you had left on the blankets from just his fingers stretching you.
Oh, his cock swelled just as his mind grew lighthearted just at the very thought of it.
˚ · . f i n . · ˚
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batbabydamian · 3 months
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DC April 2024 Solicitations - Comics Featuring Damian! 🦇
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BATMAN AND ROBIN #8
4/9/24
Written by Joshua Williamson
Art and Cover by Simone Di Meo
Variant Covers: Kael Ngu, Ejikure, Jim Lee, Nikola Čižmešija (1:25)
As Batman finds himself in the clutches of a new cult that worships Man-Bat, Robin continues his own investigation into his High School's connections to Shush! Can the father and son dynamic duo uncover Man-Bat and Shush's master plans before Gotham pays the price?!
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WONDER WOMAN #6
4/16/24
Written by Tom King
Art by Daniel Sampere and Belén Ortega
Variant Covers: Julian Totino Tedesco, Pablo Villalobos, Joshua “Sway” Swaby (1:25)
Wonder Woman vs. The Sovereign! After being captured by a team of villains, Diana finds herself at the mercy of the scariest of them all. Unbeknownst to our hero, the Sovereign has been pulling her strings since the very beginning of our tale, and now it's time for her to see the world his way as she falls under the influence of the Lasso of Lies! Plus, Trinity visits the past and unexpectedly changes the future!
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NIGHTWING #113/Legacy #300
4/16/2024
Written by Tom Taylor
Art by Various
Variant Covers: Bruno Redondo (original cover+1:25), Dan Mora, Jim Lee (Artist Spotlight), Jamal Campbell, Serg Acuna
Since the 1940's, you've seen him go from acrobat to orphan; from Dick Grayson to Robin; from Robin to Nightwing. You've seen him work alongside the universe's most powerful heroes, against existence's most sinister villains. You have seen Dick Grayson do so many things, but now, in his 300th issue, you will see him.. well, you'll just have to pick up the issue and find out. Join us for this legacy 300 milestone!
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*DC’S SPRING BREAKOUT!
*Cover feature - Damian hang gliding in the bg :)
4/30/2024
Written by Meghan Fitzmartin, Cameron Chittok, Joey Esposito, Morgan Hampton, Patrick R. Young, Tom Krajewski, Mike Barr, and more!
Art by Kenya Danino, Vasco Georgiev, Paul Pellietier, Nico Bascuñan, and more!
Cover by John Timms
Variant Covers by Dan Mora
Spring has sprung! Flowers are blooming, bees are buzzing, Harley is breaking King Shark out of Belle Reve prison. all is right in the DCU as both heroes and villains face all sorts of different spring breaks. Breaking out of a coffin? Lex Luthor has that covered. Spring break training? Send in Superman! Breaking out of your shell? Batman and Mr. Freeze explore that possibility through a connection in their shared past. Breaking down a worthy adversary? Katana and her sword of souls might just be able to tackle that. And it wouldn't be a spring break without a Teen Titans beach trip! All these and more in DC's Spring Breakout! -eight breakout stories to put a spring in your step (is there a zit breakout story? You'll have to read to find out!)
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TEEN TITANS: STARFIRE
7/2/2024
Written by Kami Garcia
Art by Gabriel Picolo
Kori Anders' summer job at a ritzy Santa Monica beach club is fun, but she doesn't care about keeping up with the current trends, and she's not interested in rushing around to all the parties. She'd rather explore her inexplicable draw to the stars or hang out with her new friend, Victor Stone. Her sister, Kira, on the other hand, is the most popular girl around. With the hottest clothes, an even hotter boyfriend (the Tate Fairweather), and a take-no-prisoners attitude, she's Kori's opposite in every way. Their summer heats up when Tate's uncle asks the girls to participate in an EDS study his pharmaceutical company is running. During treatment, Kori develops some strange powers she never had before...and she might not be the only one. Can Kori persuade her sister to trust her before it's too late? And when a carload of teens with their own powers come looking for her to warn her about a creepy stalker, she'll learn that trust is a two-way street!
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Spiritual Spotlight: Orcus, the Prince of Undeath
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Chaotic Evil Demon Lord of Death, Necromancy, and Wrath
Domains: Chaos, Death, Evil, Magic Subdomains: Demon, Divine, Murder, Undead
The Complete Book of the Damned, pg. 84~85 The art, however, is from Magic the Gathering, since Orcus’ illustration in the BotD is... laughable.
Obedience: Grind a half-pound of bones from the skeleton of a sentient creature, mix with water to create a gray paste, and then eat it at the end of a long recitation of prayers to Orcus. Benefit: Gain a +4 profane bonus on all saving throws against death and negative energy effects. 
Bet a few of you are surprised to see this lad make it to Pathfinder, eh? Orcus is one of the very few Demon Lords that survived the transition into Paizo’s creations roughly intact without any significant changes, though to Paizo’s credit they’ve stepped further and further away from using OGL content as time has gone on. Orcus suffers a bit from this, as his presence on Golarion is noted to be “remarkably low” due to the prevalence of more popular gods of undeath like Urgathoa, Kabriri, and Zura. Not helping his case is the fact that Orcus holds liches in the highest regard, zombies and skeletons and Constructs made of undead parts in second place, most other forms of undead in one big lump in the middle, ghosts below that lump, ghouls below ALL of those... and vampries in dead last, the “parasitic” undead seen as vermin, creatures to be mocked and shunned as though they were lepers, by Orcus and his flock.
But we’re not here to discuss the unique philosophies of the Prince of Undeath, are we? We’re here to examine the statistical benefits of worshiping a god who wishes to extinguish all free thought and lord over a nation of silent dead! And we start off with quite a benefit here for not much effort! Just a little smack of cannibalism, because it wouldn’t be a god of undeath without it. The average human skeleton weighs roughly 20 pounds (I bear the burden of this question in my search history so you don’t have to), which means one complete pile of bones will last you over a month if you need it to. Half a pound of bones is quite lean for an Evil god, letting you get away with carrying around sacks of bones without anything really identifying them as humanoid. Just a bag of vertebra, or long bones from the arms or legs, or a fractured ribcage and skull fragments, and even inquisitive town guards will have little to go on when they’re waved off as bones taken from animals for soup stock or crafting material. Hell, take up scrimshaw to really sell the illusion AND make your character cooler in one go!
The best part? They don’t even HAVE to be human bones! They can come from ANY sapient creature! Dragons, Magical Beasts, Aberrations, anything with an Int of 3 or more is your Hearty Breakfast! And there’s even LESS of a chance of you being outed as an evil monstrous freak because of that! And, to top it all off, the recitations to Orcus can be easily disguised as prayers to a more mainstream faith if someone crawls up to you and listens too closely.
The benefit is decent. Death AND negative energy effects crop up only occasionally, but having protection from them isn’t something you should ever turn down, given the fact death effects tend to... well, be deadly. However, this benefit loses almost all of its bite in an Evil vs Good campaign, as Good-aligned creatures aren’t likely to be throwing around Inflict Critical Wounds and Finger of Death... but if you’re regularly going up against other Evil creatures--and ESPECIALLY Evil Undead--this bonus will give you an incredible advantage against them.
Boons are acquired slowly: the first once you reach 12 hit dice, the second at 16, and the third at 20. However, the Evangelist, Exalted, and Sentinel Prestige Classes can be entered as early as level 7; doing so grants you the Boons at levels 10, 13, and 16 instead. Servants of demons may also take the Demoniac Prestige Class; you don’t get the Boons any faster than E/E/S, but you may select which set you want, and you get cool demon-related powers!
------- EVANGELIST -------
Boon 1: Power of Death. Gain Inflict Light Wounds 3/day, Death Knell 2/day, or Animate Dead 1/day.
We’ve been over the likes of Inflict Light Wounds and Death Knell before, with the latter having a function that’s too overly narrow for my liking. If you want to use a standard action to execute an enemy, just walk up and stab them! Though, like every time I’ve mentioned before, Death Knell does shine against creatures with Regeneration or abilities like Ferocity and Diehard that you otherwise have no means to easily kill.
Inflict Light Wounds is basically worthless as damage by the time you get it, useful only as a quick patch-up job for any ally of yours healed by negative energy... Like the veritable army of zombies you’re going to create thanks to Orcus being kind enough to give you Animate Dead as a spell-like ability. Without the restriction of the expensive material components cost, you can freely raise an endless number of zombies in your thrall and completely, utterly shatter action economy for the rest of the campaign, something you may want to consider NOT doing for the sake of your DMs sanity.
Animate Dead allows you to command 4 HD of zombies or skeletons per caster level you have, typically allowing you 36 HD of additional allies by the time you achieve this spell, more than enough to raise the bodies of all the hapless commoners you just slaughtered and unleash them upon the survivors. The standard action casting time is especially heinous when it requires nothing more than a thought to activate the spell, letting you immediately turn the site of an enemy’s slaughter on its head
If you want to be a bit more economical (and more game-breaking), you may be able to convince your DM to use the expanded rules and double the HD of a specific corpse or two to make them rise as Bloody Skeletons, unkillable Undead that rise from their mangled remains an hour after being destroyed. They make excellent recurring siege engines, rising from their destruction again and again to work at a single task until it’s complete. The same expanded Animate Dead rule allows you to create Burning Skeletons, which set all they touch alight, Plague Zombies, which carry a lethal infection that creates more free zombies for you, and Fast Zombies, which move with supernatural swiftness and can attack more often.
It boggles my mind thinking of all the uses for Animate Dead as a spell-like, especially for a character in service to Orcus, who wouldn’t have much of a moral stance against killing small villages they cross to add to a hideous undead army. The only limit is the HD leash, but even that just means the zombies and skeletons wander off to do their own thing, they aren’t destroyed!
Boon 2: Destined for Undeath. You are damaged by positive energy and healed by negative energy, as if you were Undead; the bonus on saving throws granted by your Obedience applies against positive energy effects instead of negative energy effects (you retain the bonus on saving throws against death effects). In addition, you gain immunity to exhaustion, fatigue, and nonlethal damage, and you gain a +4 bonus on saving throws against death effects, diseases, mind-affecting effects, paralysis, poisons, stunning, and effects that cause damage, drain, or penalties to your physical ability scores.
i
hm.
y’know, maybe working with a demon isn’t bad, actually.
The negative healing is a pretty hefty downside if you’re trying to pretend to be a good person, though. If you’re not AND you have access to an Evil Cleric or similar, you’re perfectly fine. Antipaladins can give you a big chunk of health via their Touch of Corruption, and you no longer have to worry about being caught in the blast of your friend’s Channel Energy. You can even heal yourself with the Inflict Light Wounds from the first Boon, if you need!
It is, honestly, just a small roadbump when compared to getting... well, what is basically a +4 flat bonus to your saving throws. The sheer number of status effects this ability protects you from covers almost every indirect avenue of attack an enemy could possibly level at you, and since it’s an UNTYPED bonus it will stack with everything else you grant yourself (which means you have a +8 to saves versus death effects!), making it VERY hard to get any ailment to truly stick if you use even minor additional enchantments. Constructs and Undead are typically balanced by the fact they die at 0 HP instead of going unconscious, but you have the benefits of undeath without the downside!
The most important note here is that it guards against any status ailment that would affect your physical ability scores, anything that affects mental ability scores can slip under this ability’s protection! ... provided it’s not mind-affecting, of course, since you ARE warded against those as well.
This is an incredibly strong defensive bonus kept in check by its lack of scaling, preventing you from relying on it alone. As you level up you should be scaling it up through other sources, because again, an untyped bonus will stack with everything! The biggest downside is that if you ever DO become an Undead, as your god encourages, this becomes a blank Boon. But by then you’re an intelligent Undead with an army at your disposal, so it balances out.
Side note: immunity to nonlethal damage technically means you no longer have to eat or drink (or at least can fast without consequence), so take that as you will.
Boon 3: Word of Finality: 1/day, you can cast Power Word Kill as a spell-like ability. However, it becomes a Necromancy [death] effect, not an Enchantment (mind-affecting) [compulsion] effect.
Power Word Kill is an interesting spell. especially if you get it two levels earlier than other casters. With no saving throw, you instantly snuff out the life of a living creature with 100 or less HP, letting you bypass any normal death-prevention the creature may have (Diehard/Ferocity, Regeneration, etc). As most NPC people won’t have HP approaching that amount, using it as an intimidation tactic is especially viable if you don’t mind blowing a powerful 1/day for style points.
Side note: while normally spell-likes have no components, Word of Finality’s description states it requires you to speak “a single word of unfathomable dark power,” so people WILL know you’ve used it.
The downsides of Power Word Kill, and all the other Power Word spells, are painfully known and talked to death. The biggest one is that, aside from extremely specific and narrow-use spells or magic items, tracking an enemy’s HP is more or less impossible. The best you can do is ask the DM how rough the monster’s looking or keep a running tally of numbers you’ve dealt in combat so far and take a guess (HINT: Most creatures hovering around CR 15~16 range have between 150~250 HP, with it rising by an average of 40 per CR), but as many will note: 100 HP is not a lot to cut through by the time you’ve reached level 12 or so and have a decent few DPS players. At level 15, 100 HP represents approximately 1 round of work once the team sets up, but sometimes you NEED to shut down an enemy at 100 HP immediately and with no saving throw, such as if its turn is coming up next and it’s about to kill everyone else in the room. Don’t think of it as saving just one round, think of it as saving the turns of your 3~5 allies so they can deal with any OTHER hazard in the room.
There was also the fact that, as a mind-affecting effect, almost every creature worth using it on likely had some level of defense against it, especially since Mind Blank starts showing up around this time. Changing it from a mind-affecting effect to a Necromancy effect is a double-edged sword, as it allows the spell to affect far more creatures than it could before... But, as a death effect, it’s actually easier to defend against (with Death Ward) and has a harder and harder time striking down boss-level enemies as your power grows. It’s best used for mopping up lesser enemies during big battles and, again, intimidating civilians.
------- EXALTED -------
Boon 1: Necromancer’s Secrets. Gain Detect Undead 3/day, Command Undead 2/day, or Vampiric Touch 1/day.
As is the usual for Evil deities based around death and destruction, these first few gifts are only really useful if you yourself are frequently fighting other Evil creatures. If you’re in an Evil vs Good campaign, you’ll likely never actually get to use Detect/Command Undead, seeing as how creating zombies is typically something Good people don’t do. They also require a bit of foresight; you’re unlikely to know exactly what you’re going to face in a given day unless you have advanced information (or are, like, heading into a tomb), meaning there’s a chance you may simply take the wrong spell.
Command Undead’s name isn’t exactly indicative of its function; it’s more like Charm Monster in that intelligent Undead suddenly become your bestest friends forever for the spell’s duration... which is one DAY per level, meaning getting an extremely lucky shot on a Lich or a Nightshade may simply bring a climactic encounter to a crashing halt as the party gains a new weapon. Just... just don’t let them cast Dispel Magic on themselves.  
UNintelligent Undead receive no saving throw and are entirely dominated by the spell’s effect, but can’t receive orders more complicated than “go here” or “attack that thing.” I do appreciate that commanded zombies can be ordered to destroy themselves before the spell’s duration runs out, but with its massive duration and the option to just recast it over and over, that likely won’t be much of an issue.
You can’t really go wrong with Vampiric Touch, in the end! A simple melee touch attack siphons 4d6 (+1d6 per 2 levels you have) damage and grants you half of what you deal as temporary HP. It works against everything and tends to give you enough HP to afford tanking the AoO to leave the enemy’s threat radius (unless you want to be there in the first place).
Boon 2: Invoke Death. 1/day, you can cast Slay Living as a spell-like ability. A creature slain by this spell immediately rises from death as a Juju Zombie. The Zombie is not under your control, but it will not attack you.
I mean... Slay Living is alright. It’s 12d6+13 typeless damage which grows by 1 per level. It works against any living target and the fact it’s typeless lets it bypass elemental resistance... but it’s a touch attack AND a successful Fortitude save (which is often the highest save a given creature has) cuts its impressive damage track down to 3d6+level instead, damage that’s okay but hardly worth writing home about. It’s also a death effect, making it utterly useless against many higher-tier foes you’ll begin facing at this point (consolation ribbon: it only works on living creatures, so you never have to run into the frustration of wasting it on Constructs or Undead).
And it’s even a once per day for the extra kick in the teeth! The second half of this ability isn’t even particularly juicy; Juju Zombies retain all of their abilities, memories, and even their personality, and get a suite of new powers, resistances, and ability score increases on top of it all. Since the resurrection happens immediately on death, it can actually be a huge disadvantage to use in combat, because all you may end up doing is giving your enemy a phase 2 as they pull themselves back to their feet with a new healthbar and new powers. The stipulation that they can’t attack you has no expiration date, presumably meaning they cannot harm you directly at all, but they have no reason to serve you and in fact may still hate you viciously. They can’t attack you, but they can attack your allies, and they can certainly escape to set up a plot that allows them to kill you without ever directly attacking.
Good thing you have Command Undead, right? That’ll go a long way to swaying your enemies to your side... or you can skip out on all that nonsense entirely and realize that you now have the power to raise your allies as Juju Zombies that are incapable of betraying you. Remember what I said about your enemies getting a Phase 2? Well what about giving one to your Fighter, who’s on his last few drops of HP? Your service is not yet over. Blast the last few bits of HP off them and give them a second health bar, a new coat of paint, and a tireless body. Then, if they for whatEVER reason don’t like the body you’ve so graciously given them, they can be slain again and raised as normal later when the team is safe. Really, using it on an enemy feels like a waste.
... Y’know, as written, there’s nothing stopping you from using this ability on yourself.
Boon 3: Call the Dead. 1/day, you can summon a Nightwing, 1d3 Devourers, or 1d4+1 Advanced Mohrgs as if you had cast Summon Monster IX.
A Nightwing is a terrifying, bat-like phantasm and member of the Nightshade family of monsters, horrors born in the deepest reaches of the Negative Energy Plane. They are pure death incarnate, and it says something when the weakest Nightshade, the Nightprowler, is CR 10. Nightwings are CR 14, monstrous flying creatures with a swath of powerful supportive spell-likes and an incredibly damaging bite attack (4d10+18 +4d6 Cold and a dispel attempt on any creature or item they bite) that vastly amplify how effective even a small army of zombies can be.
All Nightshades produce an aura of desecrating magic that empowers Undead in the area and vastly amplifies the number of Undead that can be raised with a single spell, AND they’re able to channel negative energy as a Cleric; Nightwings specifically can channel 7d6 points of negative energy eight times a day, letting them patch up your whole army at once. Even if you don’t have a party or army of Undead, the Nightwing can still offer bonuses like Haste, Greater Dispel Magic, Deeper Darkness, Invisibility, and 1/days like Cone of Cold and Finger of Death. The problem is that you’ll have to make your army the old-fashioned way, as Nightwings cannot create Undead and you don’t get Animate Dead for free by being Exalted. You gotta spend actual money!
Of the options presented, the Devourers hardly factor in. They only stick around for a few rounds, certainly not enough to take advantage of their spell-likes like Animate Dead, Bestow Curse, and Suggestion, and especially since they need to eat first. Given they come into play with an empty tank, they’re basically melee-only creatures who, at their best, deal 12d6+18 damage to a living target... and at worst, deal only 3d6+18, which again is restricted only to living targets. Typically, by the time they snap up a worthwhile soul that lets them use their powers effectively, their duration is almost up. The fact you could end up only summoning one is also a major factor, because when that danger is possible, why not summon the Nightwing? It’s more powerful and it doesn’t need fuel to run.
Which leaves the Mohrg... 1d4+1 of them. That’s upwards to five bodies to get in the way of your foes, each of which can force a DC 23 Fortitude save to paralyze a target for minutes at a time? Even boss-level foes can fail those when they’re having to make five of them a round. Mohrg aren’t especially resilient creatures, but they’re basically two to five castings of Hold Monster every round for nearly two minutes, and really, that’s significantly better than anything the Devourer can offer you. Plus, their ability to create Fast Zombies out of anything they kill means you can loose them on a hapless population to stir absolute, unholy chaos... all without revealing it was you, because remember: Spell-likes have no components!
------- SENTINEL -------
Boon 1: Abyssal Rage. Gain Doom 3/day, Sound Burst 2/day, or Rage 1/day.
Nnnnot an especially strong showing to start. The first two are negated by saves, and spell-likes all scale off Charisma; unless you’re dumping points into your Cha as a martial character for some reason, that means Doom and Sound Burst are unlikely to make the impact. While I’m not normally harsh on spells like this being given to the Sentinel, the fact of the matter is the impact they’d have even if the enemy somehow did fail its save is too low to matter anyway. If you had to pick between the two, the potential mass-stun from Sound Burst surpasses anything Doom could ever do.
I’m not the biggest fan of Rage, either. The combat bonus it gives will stop mattering in another level or so, though in the fairness to the spell it is a morale bonus, thus stacking with enhancement bonuses, alchemical bonuses, etc. It’s hard to be mad at +1 to attack and damage rolls and +1 HP/level across all your front- and midliners, though it’s not likely to turn the tide of whatever battle you’re in. It’s more of a tiny, useful bonus than the game-changers I like to see as 1/days.
Boon 2: Aspect of the Prince. You can cast Divine Vessel 1/day as a spell-like ability, but only to assume a Fiendish Aspect. Instead of gaining two claw attacks from this fiendish aspect, you gain a gore attack that deals 2d6 points of damage.
Now this is a game-changing 1/day! Divine Vessel is a spell that ONLY Oracles get to use naturally, and for a damn good reason: because giving it to a martial character like yourself would be downright bonkers. I mean, +8 to Str, +6 to Con, +3 AC, Spell Resistance 12 + your caster level, AND you and all of your equipment increased by 1 size category. Your space and reach go up, and the Fiendish Aspect specifically grants you a fly speed, See In Darkness, DR 10/Good, and 10 Resistance to Acid, Cold, and Electricity.
You go from a warrior to a titan, unburdened by the Oracle’s lack of heavy armor, 3/4ths BAB, and lack of weapon proficiencies. For those who don’t want to do quick math, the spell gives +4 to attack and damage rolls, +3 HP per level and +3 to Fort saves, SR 23 (+1 per level), 10ft of space AND reach, plus the added damage from your weapon size going up (melee only; ranged weapons aren’t affected), AND FLIGHT... You’re a problem that’s impossible to ignore, and perhaps impossible for some foes to surmount, considering DV is an 8th level spell that you’re getting five levels early, at a point where 20+ SR gives you around a 25% to 50% chance to ignore a spell outright, including any attempt to dispel your buff.
With a duration of “one entire boss battle,” I can think of few weapons more terrifying in the hands of a full-martial character like the Sentinel, and it’s a hell of a step up from most 2nd Boons that Sentinels get from the majority of deities we’ve seen! How generous! What’s the catch, Orcus?
Boon 3: Wand of Orcus. 1/day as a swift action upon successfully hitting a creature with a melee attack with a heavy mace, you can cast Slay Living on that creature. You must be wielding a heavy mace when you utilize this ability—while the heavy mace can itself be magical, it can’t be one that bears any form of lawful or good magic (such as a Holy Weapon) or one that has particular power over undead (such as an Undead Bane or Disrupting weapon). 
Wow! That’s quite the catch! So once a day you can tack a burst of 12d6+16 damage to one attack against a living creature? And a successful save reduces it to just 3d6+16? How... generous of our Lord of Death!
It’s ironic to me that the Sentinel’s third Boon is essentially the same as the Evangelist’s second (with the small but still notable bonus of taking your swift action rather than standard), and coming off the heels of such an impressively powerful buff, too. It feels... well, it feels bad that your ultimate reward for being a warrior of undeath is a 5th level spell once per day. It’s an alright spell, sure; the dice average adds up to about 44, plus a flat amount equal to your level for a total average of 60 damage. But... once a day. AND the victim can make a save to make it go from 44 average to 12 average. Power Word Kill is, technically, a flat 100 damage with no saving throw allowed. and the summoned Nightwing or the swarm of Mohrg are a huge force multiplier.
Oh, and it only works on living targets. Compared to those two, this Boon is a severe letdown. You don’t even reanimate the idiot you kill! Terrible way to treat your most devoted warriors, Orcus!
You can read more about him here.
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waltricia · 23 days
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Happy Polin Day!! 💛 I accidentally wrote an essay about the lighting in this two second clip. I guess I found my Roman Empire.
Nicola said in an interview that the theme of the first season was passion, the second was longing, and the third is romance, and I fully agree and believe her because everything about this clip SCREAMS romance.
As perfect as they are, I have to put aside costume, hair, and makeup, and just praise the lighting right now bc it really deserves to be discussed.
Anyone who has ever read a romance novel knows that when the leading man looks at the leading lady ~lustily~, his expression darkens and he has a devilish glint in his eye, while she has a soft, open expression and stars in her eyes. That is EXACTLY what they achieved by angling a single soft fill light on Luke from below, while having him kinda backlit/ side lit by the key light (the moonlight), and angling that harder accent light on Nicola from above and back, while having the full key light on her from the front.
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In classic horror cinematography, characters are lit from below because it casts sinister shadows on their faces. Hell scenes often have characters lit by fire from below (because obviously). This kind of lighting is also great for portraying lust (see Kanthony in the library, season 2 ep 4, both scenes). Lustiness and the devil go hand in hand (because religion lol), and that’s why this slightly sinister lighting looks so good here.
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Colin is every bit the romantic hero, and the way the lighting portrays that is subtle, but intentional. His eyes are shadowed and he has that glint. No doubt he’s about to do something bold and scandalous. Just the way Colin is approaching Pen pretty clearly indicates his intentions, but I really like that you can also derive those intentions from the lighting because it evokes such freakin classic romantic imagery.
And in the same perfectly subtle way, she is also classically lit, but representing the other side of the coin. As he’s lit from hell, she’s lit from heaven. The yellow (😉) light on her has an angelic effect. It’s also a soft spotlight, like how they would light Old Hollywood starlets.
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When you combine that light with the key light (the moonlight) that fills her face and makes her eyes sparkle, you really see her, and she is meant to be worshipped. That’s what Colin is seeing. And, obviously, being seen terrifies our wallflower. Which just adds another layer to the significance of Colin’s lighting because not only does the lighting tell us what’s he’s about to do (😘), it also makes sense to have him in the devilish lighting because she’s scared. But it’s the good kind of scary of course.
And what’s so god damn beautiful about the whole thing, is that the opposition that I’m seeing between the lighting of Colin and Pen in this moment exists so harmoniously with the equivalence that I also see between the characters. The feeling of connection between them is stronger than it’s ever been. And I’m guessing she’s literally on some kind of platform, like a doorstep or something, because their lines of sight are more level with each other. So the contrast between Colin and Pen itself contrasts with the closeness between them.
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I just love how wonderfully complex that is. I am so impressed.
And that’s just the lighting y’all.
THAT’S JUST THE LIGHTING
💡🤯👏🙌😍🐝🌼🪞💛🩵💚✨
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im-a-wonderling · 4 months
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Clumsy, Clumsy ~ George Weasley
This is part two of Is It Still Punishment if It Was Worth It?, so be sure to read that first!
Warnings: bullying
Word count: 2.6k
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“Don’t make the mistake of forgetting your essay on Angel’s Trumpet Draught for next class,” Snape said in his cool snarl, the dim shadows of the potions classroom throwing sinister shadows onto his face. “I expect no less than 24 inches of parchment.” After letting his words sink in, he sat at his desk. “Dismissed.” 
The other Potions N.E.W.T.s students shoved their textbooks into their bags, chatter filling the air as they filed out of the chairs, leaving their cauldrons where they were. 
As I slowly placed my ink bottle into my book bag, I kept my eyes on Cassius Warrington, a massive Slytherin in my year. He had a handsome face, to be sure, but it was his recently updated status as a member of the Inquisitor Squad that I cared about. 
Before my detention with Umbridge, I didn’t concern myself with the Inquisitor Squad. Their blatant Slytherin favoritism added with my natural rule-following tendencies made any concern of them irrelevant. But now, thanks to my detention last night, I’d been thrust into the spotlight, and I couldn’t count on that combination any longer. I couldn’t rely on them to simply take away House points either, because taking points away from Slytherin would punish them as much as it would me. They would likely find other, more creative avenues of punishment. 
“Y/L/N,” said a cold voice. 
“Yes, Professor Snape?” I said, looking up to see the potions master looming next to me. 
“Do you have a reason for loitering in my classroom?”
I immediately put my bag strap over my arm, gathering my parchment and my textbook into my arms. “No, sir, sorry, sir.” I ducked my head and shuffled out of the classroom, subtly glancing both ways before following the rest of the students up the stairs to the Great Hall for lunch. 
I only made it five steps.
BANG!
I fell forward, only managing to catch myself before my nose hit the edge of a stair. The contents of my book bag, however, were not so lucky. The thuds of my books, the flip of my rolls of parchment, and the crash of my inkpot created a symphony of chaos, but the only encore was laughter. 
“Clumsy, clumsy,” said a gruff voice. 
I looked up into the leering face of Warrington. Cheeks burning, I reached for my wand to clean up the mess and hurry past, but it’d been in my book bag and was now likely among the mess. 
“Don’t go and do anything stupid,” warned the voice of Pansy Parkinson, who flanked Warrington on one side with her arms crossed and her nose in the air while Gregory Goyle stood on Warrington’s other side, a menacing smile on his face.
I lifted my hands, showing I meant no harm. 
Warrington’s mouth spread, revealing his perfectly aligned teeth with such malevolence, he looked like a bloodthirsty beast. “Aren’t you going to clean up your mess?” Pansy giggled, looking thrilled at the prospect of watching me collect my stuff. 
They wanted to see me humiliated?
Fine.
When one’s greatest care isn’t pride, it costs nothing to grovel. 
Staying on my hands and knees, I grabbed my empty book bag. My copy of Magical Drafts and Potions had fallen open to reveal a picture of Arsenius Jigger, the author. I reached out for it. A black dress shoe nudged it out of my reach. I crawled forward another step, reaching again, and again it was pushed out of reach, this time accompanied by derisive laughter. 
The third time, the black dress shoe didn’t intervene, allowing me to pick up my potions textbook. After hesitating, I picked up A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration without any intervention from my spectators. And my rolls of parchment. And the few wayward quills. 
Soon, the only thing on the stairs beside my knees was the puddle of ink that was gradually flowing down to the bottom of the staircase. If I could just find my wand, I could clean it up with the Scouring charm.
I looked up to see Warrington twirling a thin hickory stick between his fingers. 
My wand. 
“Oh, d’you want this back?” Warrington asked, feigning as if he’d just realized what he was playing with. 
A show, I reminded myself, give them a show. “Please,” I said, infusing my voice with panic. I considered making my chin tremble but decided that was the wrong kind of pathetic to pretend to be. 
My wand froze. “Clean up the ink first.” 
Mimicking desperation, I looked down at the puddle, as if I hadn’t the faintest idea what to do. Then, I slid my cloak off my shoulders, dabbing at the black cloud. The house elves would be able to clean the ink easily, it was only a momentary situation. I was thankful I left my potion ingredients in the potions room, otherwise it might be frog livers that I was cleaning instead of ink. 
Finally, I stood at the bottom of the stairs, holding my dripping cloak with one hand and my bag with the other, looking up at the deviant expressions far above me. “Can…can I have my wand back?” I asked timidly. 
“Put your cloak back on.”
I lowered my gaze to the floor to contain my glower at Pansy’s order. Slowly, I set down my bag and threaded my arms through the arms of my cloak. Looks like the house elves would be cleaning my cardigan and skirt as well. I looked up at Warrington again with as pitiful an expression as I could muster. 
Warrington’s black dress shoe slid forward. “Kiss it.”
He wanted me to kiss his shoe? I looked down at the article in question. The dress shoes were fairly clean, even if they were clearly polished. The momentary discomfort of the taste of shoe polish in my mouth was tame compared to what I expected them to do, so I knew that wasn’t all he was planning. 
If anything, it was highly likely that when I got my face close enough to Warrington’s foot, he’d kick in my nose. 
Grimacing, I leaned forward, already brainstorming which spell would be best to set a broken nose. 
“What’s going on?” 
The familiar voice from behind me made my spine straighten, and for the first time, I felt the shame that Warrington so desperately wanted me to. 
“Nothing, Malfoy,” I spat before any of the others could speak. “Go away.”
“Malfoy,” Warrington said with a calculating smile, “come join us, won’t you?”
The inconsiderate blond climbed the steps to join the other three, and I glared up at him. “This doesn’t concern you.” Malfoy hadn’t talked to me since he reported me, though not for lack of trying. I didn’t want to allow a conversation until I’d formed some sort of response to his actions. 
Kneeling before Malfoy as he stood beside Warrington, I certainly had things to say, but nothing that would make the current situation any better. 
“Y/L/N just took a tumble on the stairs,” Warrington said, looking at Malfoy. “She was about to thank me for keeping her wand safe.” The four Slytherins all looked down at me, Warrington expectantly, Pansy nastily, Goyle bawdily, and Malfoy confusedly. 
I tried to remind myself that I was trying to keep my head down and of the merits of complying. But it was one thing to comply with mistreatment when it came from notorious tormentors; it was quite another to comply with mistreatment from a friend. And with Malfoy standing above me, all I wanted to do was curse the lot of them. 
“Kiss it,” Warrington hissed, “or I’ll go find that brother of yours and make him do it.”
I forced myself to hesitate instead of immediately throwing myself down onto the stone steps and obeying. While Warrington laid down the winning hand, I couldn’t let him know that particular hand could win all future games. 
I inched myself closer to his shoes.
“Is there a problem here?”
I closed my eyes, denying the possibility that the owner of that voice was interrupting this stand-off between myself and the Inquisitor Squad. But no, when I opened my eyes once more, the Slytherins had parted to reveal the boy at the top of the stairs.
George Weasley. 
“None of your concern, Weasel-bee,” Malfoy snarled. 
George looked down at me, kneeling on stone steps in front of four members of the Inquisitor Squad, and I knew he was planning something dumb. Go away, I ordered him with a stern look. Let me handle this.
George casually stepped down two steps, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning against the wall. “Y/N, I thought you were going to meet me in the Transfiguration classroom so McGonagall can help us with our project.”
Clever to mention a seventh-year class that George and I were in but Warrington wasn’t. Foolish to think that mentioning McGonagall would have any sway with this crowd. 
“I’ll be right there,” I said through gritted teeth, once again shooting him a look to tell him to get lost. 
Once again proving his inability to listen to basic directions, George walked down another step. “I think Y/L/N needs her wand for Transfiguration.”
Did he recognize my wand in Warrington’s hand? Or did he listen before he revealed himself? How long had he been listening? I wrapped my arms around my middle, feeling more vulnerable than I had before.
Warrington let out a short laugh. “It’s four against one, Weasley. Don’t think you’ll win.”
“Maybe I won’t win,” George replied, a cocky grin on his face, “but I can make your winning hurt.” George pulled his wand out. “And it’s four against two actually.”
I shut my eyes, ready to curse every Weasley ancestor for their descendant’s actions. George had clearly allied himself with me. It didn’t matter if I accepted the alliance because the damage was already done. When I opened my eyes again, Warrington, Pansy, and Goyle were still staring George down, but Malfoy was looking at me with a look of betrayal.
“Ten points from Gryffindor,” Warrington drawled. “And unless you want to make it another ten–”
George slipped his hand into his pocket and then raised his hand high. 
BOOM!
The area filled with green smoke and an odor so putrid, I had to cover my nose. A hand seized my forearm, and if it hadn’t had freckles on it, I would’ve clawed at it with my nails. The hand dragged me up the stairs so quickly, I nearly tripped.
Then, once I’d finally gotten my feet under me, the hand dragged me sharply to the right and into a cramped room I’d never seen before.
George slid whatever trap door it was shut, throwing us into darkness.
“Lumos,” George muttered, and a small light threw his face into view. 
“I cannot believe you–”
“Shush!” George leaned his ear against the door he’d just shut. 
“Warrington still has my–”
Without budging from his spot, George held up his hand, showing me my wand. “Now will you be quiet?” he hissed. 
I was getting real tired of getting shushed by George Weasley, but unfortunately, he was always in the middle of misguided heroics when he was doing so. And he was right, now that we were silent, I could hear the shouts outside the door.
I took the opportunity to look around the tiny space. It was about the size of a normal Hogwarts broom cupboard, but there were no cleaning supplies in sight. Despite the lack of contents, the stone interior sported no cobwebs or dust that I could see from the minimal light emanating from George’s wand. 
The voices, still audible, grew farther away, and I saw George relax a bit. 
“I didn’t need saving,” I whispered, grabbing my wand from George’s grip. “I had it all under control.”
George rounded on me. “Were you actually going to kiss his shoe?” 
So George did overhear the conversation before he disrupted it. Suddenly looking in his eyes was much more difficult than a moment before, but I didn’t look away, even as my face flamed. “It’s none of your business.”
His head recoiled, as if physically pushed by my words. “You were.” Anger transformed his face, which I didn't like half as well as the normal easygoing smile. “I can’t believe you’d just lie down and do whatever they say!” His words might not have accused me of cowardice, but his eyes did. 
I folded my arms, exasperated. “I weighed the possibilities and made an informed decision.”
“And so you allowed them to bully you?” George asked. 
“Just because I didn’t do what you would do doesn’t make my actions wrong!” I snapped. 
“Just because you thought about it first doesn’t mean it was the right decision.”
I scowled. “Just because you got to be a hero doesn’t mean that your decision was the right decision either!”
“You’re lucky I showed up when I did!” 
“Oh, of course I couldn’t have handled it myself, could I? Guess what, Weasley,” I stabbed a finger into his chest, “I’ve survived over six years at Hogwarts without you, and I will continue to do so without interference.”
“But now you’re not just trying to survive,” George argued, grabbing my hand and holding it away from his chest. “You’re trying to keep your brother safe at your own expense.”
“And there’s nothing you can do about that,” I fumed. “If I decide that submitting is the best way to keep Clem safe, I will let the every single student in this school walk over me and thank them afterwards for good measure!”
George let out a huff, but the longer we frowned at each other with blazing eyes, the more his mouth curled into a wry grin. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to restock on dungbombs and follow you around for the rest of the year.”
“I’m not some damsel in distress,” I replied acerbically, reaching out to push the door open. 
George grabbed my hand. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Leaving.”
“Not yet.”
I fixed him with a look. “We shouldn’t linger for them to find us. We should go find a better hiding spot, a more secure one that isn’t so close.”
George’s surprise quickly morphed into amusement. “You’ve never been in here before, have you?”
I didn’t like that he clearly knew something I didn’t. “No, why?”
“This door’s enchanted,” George replied. “If the room’s occupied, the door’s charmed not to open from the outside.” George’s words seemed dependable enough, but I didn’t trust the smirk on his face. It was obvious he found something amusing, but the source was not obvious. Unless he was laughing at me. 
“What is this place?” I asked warily.
George grinned, but it wasn’t his regular goofy smile where his whole face lit up with enjoyment. His lips stayed closed, and his chin dipped down slightly as he waggled his eyebrows. 
There’s only one thing that could mean. 
“You dragged me to a make-out spot?!” I shrieked.
The only answer was George’s shoulders shaking with barely repressed laughter. 
Ignoring the butterflies that spontaneously erupted in my stomach, I shoved the door open. “I’m getting out of here.” I stepped outside, eyes darting every which way to spy any enemies. 
“What, is snogging Warrington’s boot preferable to snogging a friend?” George called from behind me as I stormed towards the Great Hall.
“I don’t snog my friends!” I yelled over my shoulder at him, not bothering to turn around fully. 
Maybe I was imagining it, but as I climbed the steps to the Great Hall, I could’ve sworn I heard George say: “Well, that’s a bloody shame.”
-
Read the next part here!
Overall tag list:
@thelastpyle @valiantlytransparentwhispers
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mosquito-queen · 2 months
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“what’s your favorite season?”
“i thought you knew everything about me.”
yelena does know most of everything: kate hates the smell of mint, she broke her wrist and collarbone from horseback riding, the sun always shines brighter when she is around. yelena also knows that she will always be hungry to learn more.
it stings when kate snarks at her. because yelena is attempting to dismantle a fortress she has painstakingly built from her own bones, cemented with her blood. each question claws at the walls, unbinds memories she so carefully imprisoned. each question is a decision to bring the possibility of loss back into her life. so it stings when kate teases, even though yelena does the same.
yelena rolls her eyes. she’s shutting down quicker than kate anticipated. kate blurts: “it’s spring, when everything turns green again. what about you?”
she doesn’t expect a response. everything kate knows about yelena she has carefully observed and deduced. she knows: yelena is afraid of halloween even though she won’t admit it, that she’s probably allergic to peanut butter (not proven, but yelena avoids it like the plague), and that the scrunch of yelena’s nose will be kate’s ultimate downfall. she especially knows that yelena does not like to answer personal questions.
except, a fond, nostalgic smile smoothes yelena’s usual frown lines. her favorite season is ohio in winter. she can hear it now: natasha’s rumbling laughter as she drags yelena towards the ice.
“slow down! my shoes aren’t tied!”
“the sun will set before we even get there!”
the backside of natasha’s head is a blue beacon bobbing against the late afternoon’s pillowed sky. two pairs of bright white skates are slung over her shoulder, bouncing with each stride, sunlight glinting on the blades. the sisters race through the shin-high snow towards a small pond nestled just behind their neighborhood. the ice gleams, beckons them closer.
natasha missed yelena’s recital from the previous evening. so had mama. but papa was there, a bear stuffed between smiling grandmas. he had smelled like their perfume afterwards. he had thrown the biggest bouquet of roses on the rink when she was finished, a toothy smile and two thumbs up gleaming in the crowd. yelena could find her papa anywhere. he was always there for her skating. right next to her sister and mother. but they had missed it.
natasha settles on a stone bench near the pond bank. she turns her head to check on her younger sister (she’s still trudging through the last bit of snow) before chucking off her shoes and stuffing on the larger pair of skates. after a few moments, yelena drops onto the bench. she is much more tame in changing her shoes and making sure the ice skates are laced properly. she pauses, steals a glance at natasha.
the older girl is sporting a new welt just below her eye. it is the color of a summer thunderhead, a sinister purple blotting the sky. yelena knows her sister only flares like lightning, never bears rain. yelena is the crier. she could make a new ocean with the crocodile tears that so easily spring to her eyes. she wants to be like her sister. natasha is always so poised and decisive. a calculated perfection. yelena is her shadow, an understudy. except on the ice. on the ice, she is her own spotlight. she is always costumed in cobalt blue during competition and recitals, tiny sparkling beads sewn meticulously into snowflakes. her mother has spent so much time on this outfit. pricking her fingers raw.
yelena wins every competition in this dress made with love and hurt. she practices until she’s perfect, lands every trick, wins every competition. she says thank you to her mother with each carefully executed leap, and spin, and flourish. her mother says i love you by webbing back together the wear and tear, by gently hand washing the costume and keeping it hung on the outside of yelena’s closet door. she sews a new snowflake for each medal her daughter brings home.
natasha is growing impatient, gives yelena an encouraging smile, “ok snegurochka, show me what i missed.”
and yelena does. she wobbles towards the ice, and at first contact slips into her stage persona. on the ice, she closes her eyes, imagines the music reaching across time and space to curl around her, turning her clothes into her usual costume. she imagines the frosted face paint edging the corners of her face, the deep purple eye shadow and white lashes, she imagines herself as the snow maiden. it is her favorite routine. it is her best routine. it is about a girl made of snow and ice, who longs to be amongst the humans. she is lonely, but with a frozen heart she is unable to know love, until her mother takes pity. she grants her this ability, but as soon as she falls in love, she melts from the warmth of her newfound heart.
the routine ends with yelena curled on the ice, natasha clapping and cheering with the ferocity of their father. yelena lays on the ice for a moment longer, lets the cold seep into her bones. she thinks if she really was the snow maiden, she would only want to know what it felt like to love skating. she wouldn’t melt for a dumb boy.
natasha skates out to her, reaches out a hand and brings her back up. they spin and race until the sun dips down towards the rooftops. it’s a perfect day during an ohio winter.
the memory is a blanket that settles around yelena’s shoulders, makes her sleepy and vulnerable. she answers truthfully: “winter.”
a surprised smile crosses kate’s face, quirks the corner of her mouth. it’s yelena’s favorite smile. and it isn’t lost on her that she met kate during the same season. yelena’s gaze is caught too long on kate’s, her pulse thudding in the hallow of her throat. truthfully, her heart had been thawing since the first time they met. she was melting for a dumb girl.
it’s the snow mush in her brain that makes yelena ask, “do you want to go ice skate, kate bishop?”
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The Bad Batch 3.1 ‘Confined’ Recap
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Image from this post by @isthereanechoinhere96
Fuck you for starting with that line
Why are the captions in a serif font?
Going heavy on the theme of freedom for the clones already in the recap. Foreshadowing?
Rex!
CODY
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Meme by u/No-Needleworker5295 on Reddit
Ah fuck here we go again
Why must I be made to relive this?
Damn the music is really hitting hard and it’s only the recap
Spoilers for Season 3 below!
Mayday! *sobs*
Oh great, it’s fuck face again
Hemlock being a bastard as per usual
Poor Omega
“Prisoner? Omega, you are no such thing.” Said to the child kept in a cage.
Still not trusting and heavily side eyeing Emerie
Why do they let Omega carry around a little lunchbox? That seems like an obvious security risk. As does the cell with a window, even if it has a heavy grate on it.
LMAO Crosshair looks the saddest, wettest, most bedraggled little meow meow in existence
Who are those other clones??? I must know
Why are they taking blood samples from the top of the hand? That seems like the least useful place to take it from
“All of us serve a purpose here” Big oof
The shots and framing are making it pretty clear that the blood, and Omega's blood in particular, is important
So many commandos with the glowing visors
Oh, it’s a door scanner. I thought Omega was sitting in a cell in that shot in the trailer
Nala Se (derogatory)
Lmao that wasn’t even subtle. She just destroyed Omega’s blood sample without even hiding what she was doing
“This research, it’s not like what we did on Kamino, is it?” Pretty sure what you did on Kamino was just as horrific. Though you can’t really blame Omega for that seeing as she’s a literal child who was also probably experimented on
M-count. That’s midi-chlorians isn’t it. Lol they aren’t even being subtle about this. Force sensitive clones ahoy!
“Experiments on the specimens” Jesus H Christ
Vault? That doesn’t bode well
Everything about this episode is very eerie and sinister
Ok that is an excessive, overkill amount of security. Who the fuck is in there?
And straight into electrocuting space dogs. Great.
I knew the lunchbox was for hiding something!
Batcher? Aw, she named them after the Bad Batch
Yes, stick your arm into the cage with the aggressive space dog. That’s a good idea
Nuggies???
He was shivering T_T
Who are all of these clones??? I keep pausing the video and zooming in but I can’t see any identifying characteristics on any of them yet. 
And there he is
Oh fuck Crosshair’s hand is shaking. I know most people have probably watched the clip of this already but I deliberately didn’t. Shaking hands for a sniper is Not Good. That’s his right hand too, so presumably his trigger hand/finger/whatever it’s called? Is this a physical injury inflicted on him by their experiments or PTSD or both?
I’m intrigued at how much relative freedom they’re giving Omega. She’s not being kept in a cell all the time like the other clones. Though I suppose this is part of their plan to make Nala Se cooperate.
Ok the tap dripping in Omega’s cell is definitely a visual metaphor for how repetitive, dreary, and isolating this all is
That’s 21 tally marks
Oh, she made a straw Lula. Ow
[shrieking in distance] – what shrieking? Captions, what are you going on about?
Oh fuck that’s a lot of tally marks. And a hair change. Lots of time has clearly passed. They’ve updated Omega’s model too but I think it’s a tad heavy handed as she hasn’t aged that much.
Wow, she didn’t even look at Crosshair. Is this attitude change Omega being ground down by what’s happening to her or something she’s doing deliberately to try and play along and be more cooperative so she can find out about more stuff? Also, that’s the second time she’s walked past Crosshair in the same spot at the same time of the day. That seems deliberate. 
Lol could you be any more obvious with the lighting in that shot that Omega’s blood is important? It’s like the vial of her blood has a moody spotlight on it. Important plot point here!
Nooooo Batcher’s hurt 😭
Bacta sponge?
“If I get the chance to escape, I wouldn’t think twice about leaving you behind.” Hmmm, you keep telling yourself that Crosshair
“I’m not them.” T_T
“Don’t risk anything for me. I belong in here.” Oooooooooowwwwwwwww
“None of us belong in here.” Damn right
There is some really lovely cinematography and framing in this scene between Omega and Crosshair
Well that was brutal and heavy handed
A successful transfer? A successful transfer of what?
The “specimen” has a high M-count. So they’re force sensitive. Now for the speculation on who it is?
“You should not question my loyalty to science, Doctor.” LMAO bitch what?
Urgh, of course they’re killing the dog once it’s friendly
Ahahaha squished
Aw, she’s setting Batcher free but she doesn’t want to go. 
“I didn’t know you were so cruel, Omega.” Oh fuck right off
Piss weak attempt to help there Emerie
Hemlock getting his evil baddie laugh moment
Clever. Omega knows why she’s here.
Urgh, of course Hemlock would threaten Crosshair to get Omega to cooperate.
Re-education?!?!?! You sick fuck
“Actions always have consequences. Sometimes not in the ways we imagine.” I am really hoping that line comes back to bite him in the ass later on
Oh fuck off with bring back the doll Emerie. That is such a bait to try and get Omega to like her and behave
That’s 164 tally marks. Omega’s been on Mount Tantiss for 5 and a half months
Aw, Batcher made it out. And that’s the crashed shuttle from earlier that she’s howling on the top of. More foreshadowing?
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evermourning · 6 months
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𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 - kim seungmin
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pairing: kim seungmin x reader, lovertober entry v
genre: non!idol au, will they/won't they, enemies to lovers, camp counselors!seungmin and reader
wc: 5.6k
warnings: ends kinda suggestive, making out, language, mentions wooyoung from ateez, yunjin from le sserafim, mina from twice, reader has an ego in the beginning, seungmin and reader were academic rivals in high school
a/n: pretend its still summer
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from the moment you met him in the 10th grade, you absolutely and instantly disliked kim seungmin. with every bone, fiber, and cell in your body.
you had grown up with these people around you, watched as their faces slowly matured into the versions of themselves you saw them as now. however, you couldn't help but pity them.
compared to you, they were essentially idiots.
you were the top of your class, year after year after year. this was probably the big thing that set you apart from them. you spent your days studying, as opposed to partying. you jugged student council, clubs, and your grades so that you could graduate and lead a better life.
this journey was set back the day you met seungmin, though.
you could remember what he looked like as if it was only yesterday that you two locked eyes for the first time. fluffy brown hair and glasses, and braces adorning his pearly white teeth. he looked like an angel. a sweet, quiet kid that all the teachers adored.
but he was something much, much, much more sinister.
"yn, this is seungmin. he's new, so would you mind showing him around?" your teacher asked, and you graciously accepted. he was quiet as you aided him in his tour, making small comments here and there and asking questions if necessary. he became more acquainted with the people around you in the blink of an eye.
but you could feel something off about him. you just couldn't tell what.
he'd been sat down next to you in your math class, and instantly shot up in rank after tests to the spot right behind you. he was naturally gifted, getting almost perfect grades without lifting a finger.
it wasn't just math. it was every single subject. one after the other, they fell to his whim like measly pieces of chess.
he played it off with a simple "oh, i guess i studied this topic a bit extra" but in no time, he was hot on your trail for the top spot.
and you liked the thrill. you knew at the end of the day, you'd place first and everything would be normal, and this kid would learn that you were not to be messed with. you had to admit, as much as you shit talked him to your friends and made tons of claims that you probably couldn't back up, his banter was enjoyable.
until it wasn't.
your 11th grade year, seungmin became mean.
something happened over the summer. he'd grown taller, although he bore the same features, there was something so peculiar about him. he was lean and toned under his uniform, and became the star pitcher of the school's baseball team. immediately he was thrust into the spotlight you'd worked so hard to achieve. you were so annoyed. how was it easy for people to just like him? you made good grades, you tried to be courteous and respectful, and he was over there being crowned king of the school for fucking breathing.
he'd make offhanded comments about you, too, to your face and behind your back. the kinds where you'd just have to awkwardly laugh it off to soothe the aching pain inside your chest and the tears threatening to fall in big, ugly glops.
but you shook it off. you knew that it would only lead to worse events if you let him get in your head all the time. you tried to still be kind to him, but eventually, you gave up. if he was nothing short of an absolute dick to you, then there was no need to waste your energy interacting with him.
your interactions with him after that were minimal. passing glances in hallways, partner project where you simply split it up and didn't communicate at all, short questions in class. you weren't really out for him or anything.
until the end of 11th grade.
it was the time where final rankings for grades were announced. you were sitting at your desk, hardly bothered to check them. you knew you'd be first. you had been so confident, you just went back to work. however, something was off. usually, there would be cheers and groans, but all that you could hear were hushed whispers echoing through the classroom. when you looked up, lazily twirling a pencil between your fingers, you noticed something odd.
they were staring at you.
something wasn't right. these were people you'd known since grade school. they were used to you taking the top spot, right? right? you had to go find out what was wrong.
as you got up to look at the list, the crowd parted. the students looked on nervously as you marched up to the bulletin board where the fated list awaited, a thumbtack keeping it in place. you used your finger to slide up and down the list until you found your name.
next to it was your rank.
2.
you had fucking placed second. for the first time since...ever. you scanned the list desperately again, looking for some sign that it was rigged or faux. but it was the genuine article. you slid your finger up to see the name of the person who had stolen the position right out from under your nose, and you had to bite back a scream of pure rage when you saw it.
Kim Seungmin
that son of a bitch. he finally beat you.
and as you turned, there he stood leaning against the doorframe of the classroom, that smug smile prominent on his face. did he have a death wish or something? you did not like this at all.
later that day, as you were leaving, somebody stopped you, their hand grabbing you by the sleeve of your uniform. it was seungmin. you shook him off, shaking your head as you walked towards the gate.
"what's wrong? cat got your tongue?" he asked you tauntingly. you rolled your eyes with a huff, opening your mouth to shoot back with some sly remark, but he kept talking. "did you know i beat you by a tenth of a point? it's so fucking unreal. one tenth."
this comment sent you over the edge.
"you think you're so fucking funny, don't you? relishing in my pain, acting like i'll joke around with you as if we're friends. well guess what: you don't mean shit to me, kim seungmin." seungmin's eyes widened slightly, but his eyes settled into a hateful glare.
"so be it. just to let you know, yn, you fucking suck. give yourself a high five, you fake bitch."
and just like that, your eternal rivalry with kim seungmin began.
thankfully, your rivalry was cut short when you went to different colleges. however, you knew all about what he was doing. somewhere along the line, his friends became your friends. he was in law school now, studying to become a persecutor. you hated to admit it, but you were honestly impressed. however, you couldn't complain, as you'd received a full scholarship to an accomplished university. you lived in the city during your term, enjoying its lively bustle and bright lights. you'd always enjoyed the summer better, though.
in the summers, you'd drive two hours up to the mountains to work as a camp counselor for a childrens' summer camp, named camp aspen. it was a lovely little place, tucked away near a small town, surrounded by acres and acres of wilderness. it was so serene, the crisp air feeling amazing in your lungs.
this was where you were now. your third summer as a counselor was about to begin. you parked your car on a beaten road near the cabins, walking into a lodge to say hello to the director. the rest of the counselors were sitting in the office, and when they saw you, they excitedly enveloped you in a warm group hug.
there were six counselors at camp aspen, each accommodating one of the three cabins, one for each age range. two counselors would stay in each cabin. the place was going to be renovated soon, but thankfully, the cabins had two large, separate rooms.
it would be the same as always, with your counselor friends. wooyoung and mina stayed with the oldest kids, you and soobin stayed with the preteens, and jisung and yunjin kept an eye on the littlest ones. this is how it always was.
until you only counted four of your friends.
"where's soobin?" you asked, looking around. wooyoung took your hands in his and sighed.
"don't freak out, but..." he sighed, seeming to brace himself for your possible outrage. "soobin is studying abroad this summer, so we had to find a replacement who will be staying with you."
you wanted to scream and also kinda smack wooyoung too. but, you didn't want to lose your job, so you decided to flash a smile through gritted teeth.
"it's okay, woo. why didn't you tell me?"
"well, we just learned today, too. it happened so suddenly, i guess soobin forgot to mention it to the director until the last minute. while you were driving up, it was so scary. mina and i were fucking scrambling to find a replacement. thankfully, she showcased her amazing problem-solving skills to find us a replacement. her friend's friend's...friend, i think. it's weird." mina blushed at his words of praise. "but anyways, he'll be here later, so go get your stuff all unpacked."
you sighed, jisung and yunjin giving you reassuring smiles before going back to their intense game of gamepigeon 8-ball. as you departed, you stole one last glance at your friends. this was going to be the best summer ever.
when you got to the cabin, you immediately began laying the sheets and blankets on your temporary bed, preparing your place of rest for the weeks to come. you'd strung little fairy lights along the bedposts and finished off with comfortable pillows. you loved making this bed your own year after year.
you sat down upon it, laying back and sighing as your head it your pillow. you had time for a quick nap, right? you set an alarm and drifted off. you wondered who your partner would be. would he be kind? would he be rude? he'd be kind probably, if he was somehow connected to mina, a total sweetheart. the older kids loved her. she'd sit with the girls in a semi-circle around her as they listened to her tell stories, interest gleaming in their eyes.
you just hoped he wasn't a total dick.
after your alarm went off, waking you up, you blinked and saw jisung dead asleep at the bottom of your bed, curled up.
"what the hell are you doing?" you asked, laughing. he laughed sheepishly.
"sorry, your bed is comfortable...and i was supposed to be telling you the new guy just got here but i said i'd rest my eyes for a second and now here we are."
you chuckled, getting out of your bed and slipping into the bathroom so you could check how you looked. once you deemed yourself presentable, you walked with jisung out to the parking lot, catching up about how life was. he was always very fun to talk to. jisung had the natural aura of a storyteller, of someone fun. he radiated warmth and kindness, probably why he was such a role model to the little kids.
when you made it to the makeshift parking lot (in reality it was only a wide rectangle of gravel you parked your cars near) there was a new car there, much nicer than the rest. it was sleek and black, although you had no idea why someone would be driving such an expensive-looking car in the mountains. from your current location, you could see awfully well that wooyoung was chatting amicably with the mystery guy as he pulled his suitcase from the trunk. and then, wooyoung turned and called out to you two so you could come down and meet him.
with jisung by your side, you nervously walked over to the car. a head popped out from where the trunk was.
"by the way, wooyoung, where am i stay-" the boy stopped abruptly when he saw you. "-ing."
your blood ran cold.
it was kim seungmin.
of course it fucking was, because without even trying he'd made it his life's mission to completely ruin yours. all your high school memories came flooding back, but something else was there, curdling horrifically in the pits of your stomach.
his hair was a lighter shade of brown now, with streaks of blonde in his bangs. his braces were gone, and his face no longer was cute and round. he was jawdroppingly beautiful. but this was the person you'd wished to avoid ever since that day in the eleventh grade.
wooyoung, that poor boy, grinned. "you'll be staying and working with one of my favorite counselors. seungmin, meet yn. yn, meet seungmin."
"i know who they are." seungmin said quietly. "and they know me. we went to the same high school." wooyoung lit up at this information.
"perfect! that makes things easier. yn, please show seungmin to your cabin."
as you walked alongside him, carrying a few of his things, the tension was so thick you couldn’t cut it with a knife. the heavy silence hung in the air, until seungmin awkwardly spoke up.
“i’m glad i know someone here. it’d be so awkward if i was rooming with a stranger.” he said, a little laugh escaping his lips.
“did you know i was going to be here?” you asked rather accusingly, and he shook his head, readjusting his hold on the suitcase.
“nope. mina, she’s the one who hired me, has a friend, sana, who’s really close with one of my best friends. do you remember him from high school? chan?”
yes, you did. chan was probably one of the most popular guys at your school. he’d been the captain of the varsity football team, the homecoming king three years in a row, and was notorious for being the reason many girls dumped their boyfriends. he wasn’t known as “mr. steal-your-girl” for just any reason.
him and seungmin became good friends seungmin's sophomore year, while chan was a senior and they remained close since then.
"i remember him." you responded, not wanting to hold a conversation with him.
"yeah, well sana reached out to chan, who reached out to me. and i needed some extra money, so here we are."
he was really starting to bug you. how could he just talk to you like he wasn't so terrible to you in high school?
"is this how it's going to be all summer, then?" you said to yourself, but he heard it.
"pardon?"
"you, acting like nothing happened between us when we were younger? like your words didn't burn my skin and mine didn't cut deep into yours? i'm not an actor, seungmin. i can't pretend that the things you said to me didn't happen. i can't just will them out of my head."
he scoffed, his true personality shining through. you knew it was down there. he could only hide it for so long. that son of a bitch.
"you're so overdramatic, yn. name one fucking thing i said about you that was so terrible it ruined your vision of me for the rest of your life." he meant it sarcastically, but he didn't realize you had an answer.
"in our junior year, you were talking to chan, and you called me a stuck-up, airheaded bitch who would cared too much about school. you said...you said i was going to push everyone away and then nobody would care enough to weep when i died. not even my own parents." recognition was prominent in his brown eyes as he remembered his own words.
"...i didn't think you knew about that."
you were on the verge of slapping him.
"how could i not? you texted it to chan. do you know how easy it is for a text message to be screenshotted and sent? chan sent it to minnie, who sent it to me. do you know what it's like to learn someone says shit like that about you? i sobbed for three hours straight." you dropped his stuff down right in front of him. "from now on, only talk to me if you need something." you stormed off, fighting the tears that threatened to fall.
so much for camp being your safe space.
the first week of camp was a little rocky. seungmin stayed true to your ask and only spoke to you if he needed help with something, but other than that, it was like you didn't exist. the kids obviously noticed it too. regardless of the fact that the week went well, at the end of the day, wooyoung still sat you and seungmin down and decided to have a chat with you.
"what is going on with you two? i thought you said you knew each other. i thought you'd have it in the bag, but you're singlehandedly ruining the experience for our campers, and that is not the type of energy we need counselors to have."
"if i may, woo," you said, and he raised an eyebrow. "we never specified if our relationship was good or bad, you just went with us knowing each other."
"and you didn't tell me this to correct me?" wooyoung sighed. "i'm disappointed, yn. you've been here three years. you should've contacted me instantly." you nodded at his words, a little embarrassed that your somewhat childish rivalry led you to not be rash when decision-making.
"i am not the oldest at this camp, but i have the most experience. this is my fifth year as a counselor, and i am sitting here now with authority you two don't have. i'm going to have to ask you to work this out. we are so short on staff that we can't afford for either of you to leave camp. understand?" seungmin gave his confirmation and you shot wooyoung a look (which he returned quickly) before agreeing.
this was how you were sitting cross-legged on your bed across from seungmin. he stared at you, challenging you to speak first. when you didn't, shooting him a nasty glare, he took the initiative.
"we're gonna listen to wooyoung's request and work things out. and if we can't...we'll find a plan b. deal?" you crossed your arms and slightly nodded. "let's see...let's do it like this: you're going to tell me why you don't like me. be raw and honest, and then i'll tell you why i don't like you. if there's any misunderstandings, that's what we'll know."
you sighed, knowing this was rational, and began.
"i'll be honest, yeah. when we were in 10th grade, you felt off to me, but i didn't really focus on that because i liked the adrenaline rush i got from comparing grades with you and our banter. but then in 11th grade...you were so terrible to me. all the things you were saying...and then you beat me. i know it was only by one rank but i lost it. i felt like my grades were the only part of my identity and without them...i was nothing. so that's why i haven't forgiven you, because you said all this shit and i'm still hung up over that." you admitted, staring at your feet.
“even if you didn’t have your grades, it wouldn’t have mattered. you were popular. everyone was always falling over themself to be friends with you.” seungmin pointed out, and you shook your head.
“i was not even close to popular, seungmin. people just used me for homework answers and i was too nice to say no.”
“no, no. that’s not possible. everybody was always talking about you, how kind and funny you were…and that’s why i didn’t like you.” his voice broke. “you had everything i wanted. i came to that school with absolutely nothing. you were at the hub of everything, there were always people around you, and i hated it. i hated how you didn’t have to wear a mask to get what you wanted. i hated how you were like some revered god of intelligence. i hated it so much. and then…the final straw was when i was having a fight with my mother in october of our junior year, because she didn’t like that i had changed so much because i’d grown popular and was spending my time with ‘bad influences’. and do you know what she said to me?”
“no, i don’t.” you were frankly a little embarrassed that this was a whole misunderstanding, but you listened anyways.
“she said she wished i was more like you. i didn’t even know how she knew you. and i wished nothing but the worst upon you after that. and now i learn i did all that on a whim?”
”no, you didn’t. you did it because you were upset, and you didn’t know any other way than to lash out. i’m sorry for how i treated you, and if you’re sorry, then let’s go tell wooyoung we worked it out.” you caught his hands in yours, and he flinched. you kept his palms between your hands as if you were keeping a canary in a cage, and when you let go, he felt free.
“i’m sorry for saying all that shit about you. if i had known you weren’t like that, i wouldn’t have done it. you don’t have to forgive me for that one.” he replied quietly.
“yeah, that one’s going to take a little time.” you laughed awkwardly.
for the first time, seungmin realized what people saw in you. how your eyes crinkled when you laughed, your smile absolutely gorgeous. even if it wasn’t even a normal laugh (you were quite literally awkward as shit), he began to feel something churning in the pit of his stomach. what was it?
thankfully he had time to figure it out before you left him behind.
after working things out with seungmin, you couldn't help but admit that your camp experience got better. he was honestly a perfect choice as counselor. the kids loved him, and he was really sweet and considerate towards them in return. it was noticeable that in the years since you last saw him, seungmin had unmistakably matured into a fine young man. you were glad his dick phase was over.
but something was different about him, now. since he didn't treat you even remotely terrible anymore, you began to enjoy his presence. kim seungmin was hilarious, his smile a ray of sunshine that forced the clouds away. you couldn't help but feel giddy when you saw it, but you reminded yourself constantly that this was your sworn high school enemy.
but would it really be so bad?
one sunny wednesday, you and seungmin took the kids out to play some sports. they voted on a simple game of baseball, which you knew seungmin would gladly agree too. but when they started chanting your name, pleading with you to join the game although you had zero baseball experience, you knew you were doomed.
"alright, yn, you be pitcher." you stared at the little boy who deemed your position incredulously.
"honey, i can't throw at all." you replied, and the kids started laughing. seungmin walked over to you on the makeshift diamond, gifting his teammate a plastic bat.
"i'll help yn learn to throw, okay?" he said, and the kids whined.
"that's cheating!" seungmin chuckled at their complaining.
"okay, so first you're going to take the ball and hold it like this." seungmin explained, his fingers gently sweeping over yours to move them to the right place. his touch was soft and sweet, like a juicy watermelon slice on a warm summer's day. once he got your fingers to a good position, he continued his lesson. "good, now place your feet shoulder-width apart. and uhh..hold on."
you felt your face burning as seungmin's hands slid up and down your body, moving certain parts of you into place. you were like putty in his hands, your heart fluttering when his long fingers grazed your waist. you tilted your head slight to see his face right in between your head and your arm, staring right back at you.
this wasn't the first time you had insane tension with kim seungmin. but it was the first time the energy was like...this. your lips were so close to his. you could feel his breath on your exposed skin and it felt good. if it was in a different setting, maybe...
you stepped back, flashing a dazzling smile to try and ease the uncomfortable silence. thankfully, your campers brought the focus back to them before things got too weird.
the entire game, your mind was somewhere else.
he wanted to kiss you. you'd seen his eyes, staring at your lips like they'd vanish if he blinked. you'd seen the way seungmin looked almost out of breath, his lips parted and his cheeks flushed ruby red.
you couldn't be imagining it. there was no way.
after everything was cleaned up, you snuck away to wooyoung's cabin, where he sat lazily on his bed as a sixteen year-old girl told him about her situationship. he looked relieved as you pulled him aside.
"i'm glad you worked everything out with seungmin." he said, patting your back reassuringly. "i knew you had it in you. i really am the best, aren't i?"
you shook your head.
"not right now, woo. something happened earlier today that was really weird, and jisung didn't want to hear about it so now it's your turn." wooyoung's eyes lit up at the mention of your drama, and he shooed his camper away, eagerly patting the spot next to him.
"tell me all about it."
and so you did. you explained everything: from your original drama with seungmin in high school, to how you solved it, to what went down while he was teaching you to pitch. wooyoung's jaw was dropped.
"you two went through all that tension just for him to not even finish teaching you to pitch? that's so fucking embarrassing. you needed that lesson." wooyoung tsked, theatrically hanging his head low.
"hey! i'm not that bad at sports." you retaliated.
''yes, yes you are. do you remember last year when your 'star pitch' broke yunjin's car window? i don't think she forgot about that." you rolled your eyes with a huff, and he laughed loudly. "but that's not important, because this could be the romance you always read about in your poorly written books. maybe you're having your own enemies-to-lovers trope right now! you'll be with him tonight, correct?" you nodded.
"alright, then shoot your shot? trust me, nothing bad's going to happen if you don't overthink it." he squeezed your hand excitedly. "i believe in you. use condoms!"
later that night, the director was holding a movie night for the kids in the lodge, allowing counselors to get a much-needed break. when the sun dipped below the mountain range in hues of deep blues, you sat at the dock with seungmin, splitting a liter bottle of some soda you couldn't read the title of. the moon was at its fullest, glowing ethereally as it cast a bright light upon the water. you swung your feet slightly, the cool water lapping against your feet a lovely contrast to the summer air. fireflies light up like lanterns all around.
"it's so hot," you complained, swatting at an unwelcome bug as it tried to land on your skin. "ugh, i feel like i'm burning alive."
seungmin took a swig of the soda, simulanteously running a hand through his sweaty brown hair.
"let's go for a swim, then." he suggested. you looked at him like he was crazy.
"in...the lake?" he nodded vigorously.
"where else would we swim? this camp doesn't have a pool. c'mon, it'll be fun. there's nothing that can hurt you in there. no amoebas, no snakes, no nothing. i'll keep you safe." he curled his pinkie around yours in a joking promise.
you sighed as you lowered yourself into the water. it was cool on your skin, resulting in you slightly shivering from the contact. however, once you grew accustomed to the temperature, it was rather nice. there was one problem, though.
the water was pitch-black, and you were still in your clothes. so when you felt something slimy touch your ankle, you let out a screech and jumped higher than a kangaroo.
"easy there." seungmin's voice said into your ear, and you startled at the sound. "relax, it's just me. the only think that touched your foot was seaweed. you'll be okay. it really only grows in one area of the lake, so let's stay away from there. sounds good?"
his words of soft and gentle reassurance, paired with a gentle touch on your waist made you want to erupt into flames even in the water. as he guided you to the center of the lake, you had to start treading water. however, seungmin was completely fine.
it was quiet for a bit, peaceful and serene before you broke the silence with a groundbreaking question."
"hey seungmin...were you planning on kissing me earlier?" the boy in question was silent for a bit, thinking about his answer, before finally speaking again.
"yeah, i was. how could i not? we were so close, and you know i could never resist you, yn. aphrodite herself turns green with envy at the mere sight of you." you felt your heart rate speed up at his words. so you decided to take the initiative.
"i'll be honest, since we became close, i've noticed this tension between us that wasn't there before. you're so handsome, and you know it, and i know it and i want to make out with you so bad, but i've been having all these reservations because i can't get over what you said about me all those years ago."
seungmin spoke up instantly, rebutting your claim. "i can proudly say now that the lies i spewed about you were instantaneously false, the moment they left my lips. see, i said back then that no one would weep if you perished. but now, i would. i would sob until the soil beneath me has turned to mud and it stains my clothes and my hands. i would leave you flowers and gifts every single day. now that i know you, and i know how you truly are, i'd kill myself if i lost you."
the sound of your tears hitting the water's surface, aligning with the incessant chirping of the cicadas, turned the sounds around you into an exquisite and melodious symphony. you threw your arms around seungmin, holding him tight.
"i'll say it now, seungmin. i love you. i'm in love with you. it happened so quickly, i'm scared it's faux. but i want it to be real. i want and crave you with every bone, fiber, and cell in my aching body."
seungmin's strong arms wrapped around you, and he grinned mischieviously.
"well, i'm not to great with my words, but i want you really bad, too. i'd personally like to, uh, ravage you? and you said something about making out that i am quite personally very down for."
you laughed, a smile gracing your features. seungmin wanted to see that face every day for the rest of his life, he decided.
"god, you're such a dork." you giggled, and pulled him in for a kiss. it was warm, fiery as passionate as your lips crashed against each others' like waves crashing against a rocky barrier. the change in gravity from the water made it easy to hop up and wrap your legs around his waist. seungmin's hands drifted down to your ass to keep you in place, and you steadied yourself as your hands held his cheeks. god, you could feel his jawline from there. eventually, your tongues began to battle for dominance.
after ten minutes or so, you parted lips, a string of saliva still connecting you two. the moonlight reflected off of it as it snapped. seungmin watched in awe.
"that was so fucking hot...but um, what are we now?" you asked. seungmin laughed out loud, patting your soaked head.
"let's determine that later. right now...i lowkey want to fuck your brains out. think we can do that?" he teased.
"in a lake??" you shot back.
"there's a first time for everything." seungmin teased. once he was sure you gave your consent, his fingers went to the bottom of your sopping wet shirt, carefully lifting it over your head. "until then, i'll enjoy the view."
"and that's our cue to leave." wooyoung commented from his vantage point. yunjin stood beside him. he turned, grinning as he outstretched his hand. "pay up, buttercup. i bet that they'd get together before the end of the summer, and look at them! that twenty dollars is mine."
yunjin grumbled, pulling a crumpled twenty-dollar bill out of her back pocket and handing it to him.
"seriously though, those one-liners were horrific. the confession was cute though." yunjin laughed.
"oh, hell yeah. just for that, they're on bathroom cleaning duty. and i'm hoping and praying they remember what echoes are so we don't have to awkwardly explain what was going on to the little campers." wooyoung sighed. yunjin looked up at him.
"you are straight-up evil, jung wooyoung. have you seen those bathrooms?"
"exactly why they're on bathroom duty. i may be evil, but i am one hell of a matchmaker, aren't i?" he shot back, playfully nudging her shoulder.
"whatever you say."
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