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chaoticgeminate · 3 years ago

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Allure

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4.1K Content Warnings: Thar be monsterfucking ahead (Din is an alien here), sex pollen/pheromone influence (but consensual), mentions of crazy alien biology for pointless plot and because I'm a nerd, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! Notes: This is a birthday request/gift to @hardc0rehaylz! Hope you enjoy, birthday girl 💙 Reader has the nickname "Miss Fortune" but I tried to avoid any other descriptors.

Something was wrong with you.

For the past week you’d begun waking up overheated, sheets stained from sweat and messy drenched underwear, and you’d wondered if you were having some really good dreams that you just weren’t remembering but never had it been a week straight consistently. The only saving grace was that your new traveling companions, Mando and Grogu, were in the crew bunks while you had your soundproofed Captain’s quarters.

You couldn’t begin to imagine the quick death you’d be given for potentially “corrupting” the child.

Taking on the armored bounty hunter and his green pollywog as a crew hadn’t been in your plans but he had promised good pay and Peli was able to modify the star fighter port on your ship to fit his N-1 without an issue. A scrapper and a bounty hunter, the pair of you were definitely something and as much as his quiet demeanor had been kind of off-putting at the start you’d gotten to know his body language pretty well.

The kid was cute too, so that was always a plus.

You let out the softest sound of annoyance before getting up, taking the coldest shower you could since you were set to land today and drop off some of the higher value scrap stored in the hull. It would have been nice to be able to take care of yourself but that just wasn’t in the cards, instead you willed that ache away as best you could under the ice cold spray. A fresh two-piece flightsuit was thrown on over your compression leggings and thermal top –it wasn’t exactly warm in space, even with environmental controls- and after tugging on your boots you made your way toward the bridge.

You noticed Mando and Grogu sitting in the lounge area, the pollywog was playing with that little metal ball you saw him with constantly while the armored hunter was looking over your spare datapad with electronic schematics in it. His old ship was pre-Empire so he struggled with some of the repairs on yours, his way of chipping in was to handle minor fixes for you since he’d paid to install a mobile carbonite unit, so he’d been determined to learn what he could.

But watching him sit up straighter, the way his shoulders practically jumped, made you pause. His helmet turned slowly toward you and it almost came across as a bashful gesture.

“Mando? You okay there?” His shoulders drooped as he nodded and you decided to ignore his weird behavior, since there was no chance in the Maker that he’d ever actually tell you what was wrong with him. Instead you hit the bridge and double checked the coordinates and autopilot settings, your astromech was in the process of repairs and waiting for you back at the Guild headquarters so everything was manual for now, and Mando was lucky that he could do the calculations in his head after nearly destroying Belt.

You sat down in your seat and smiled when you heard Mando’s heavy steps take the gunners chair, he’d deferred to your flying after a particularly nasty dogfight you’d won while soaring through an asteroid field. With you in the pilot’s seat and him in the gunner chair no other scrappers or smugglers had been able to bully Lady Luck away from a haul again. Added to the repairs and modifications Mando helped fund, after you were introduced to the stubborn and charming –in her own way- Peli Motto, your light freighter was a bounty hunter and scrapper’s dream.

Neither of you spoke as you navigated through the energy barricades, landing in your designated dock at the spaceport, and you waved to a few of the usual attendants after opening the cargo doors so they could begin unloading. Jaxom waved at you and an amused smile crossed the Toydarian’s face as Mando walked just behind you, very close to your back, but your eyes landed on the numerous Jawa convoys that were here to buy up what they could.

The little scavengers weren’t unusual here but they were known to try and steal right out of fresh drops, luckily for you the loading and unloading crews weren’t amateurs.

“Welcome back, Miss Fortune, I already see several high credit items being unloaded as we speak and am quite eager to see what you might’ve brought home.” You shrugged Jaxom’s arm off your shoulder and playfully punched the Guild Coordinator in the arm. His flirting wasn’t anything serious but you still discouraged it where you could, you did not want to give him the idea that you’d ever accept his company.

“Hands to yourself Jax, I know where them mitts of yours have been.”

“You wound me, but I suppose you’re right, I keep telling you not to assume the Hutts aren’t good lovers.”

“Yuck, no fuckin’ way you disgusting slug licker. Is Belt repaired yet?” You nearly buckled at the sudden touch of Mando’s gloved hand on your lower back as he moved beside you, the heat that shot through your body almost made you fall into him, and your everything responded enthusiastically to the contact. Jaxom looked between the two of you and his hands rose in a placating gesture before he stepped aside to go count up your haul, leaving you to head into the workshop where Belt greeted you with a cheerful chime.

The entire walk you had Mando’s hand on you, the heat of it practically radiating through his glove, and as much as you wanted to him ask why he was doing that your tongue had felt like it was swollen and you were almost wondering if anyone could see the effect it had on you.

Belt chimed and the BB-2 unit rolled over toward you with a cheerful little cry, you crouched down and immediately hugged him close. With Mando’s hand off your back there was just enough of a sharpness that returned to you, something was definitely wrong but you couldn’t run a health scan quite yet.

“Belt, look at you, lookin’ real good now. Mando promised not to try and shoot you again, okay? So if he tries anything let me know right away.” The droid hummed and its head shifted to look up into the dark visor, then back to you, before Belt chirped and whistled in agreement. You couldn’t help but smile when Grogu whined and reached for the droid, he’d devloped a quick attachment after all, but it was even cuter as Mando set the child on Belt’s dome head and the droid rolled after the armored hunter with Grogu on him.

You bit your cheek to avoid laughing and waved to Grogu, heading for the cantina for a drink and to meet with Jaxom for your pay as Belt followed Mando back onto Lady Luck. The fact that getting distance from Mando made that strange heat burning under your skin dissipate a little didn’t really clock you as strange, even though it should have, and Jaxom watched the door as you walked in as if waiting for the bounty hunter to follow.

After being grilled about when you’d started sleeping with the tin can –which you hadn’t, even if you wanted to- Jaxom finally paid you and sent you on your way. Mando had two bounties on planets nearby so once refueling was done you were set to leave, your steps were light and you were ready to just lock yourself back in your room for some relief when you stepped into the hull and were nearly bowled over by the sharp spicy musk that practically permeated everything. Your knees trembled and you did go down, after the hull doors closed at least, while you struggled to breathe past the thick air.

Heavy footsteps made you look up and Mando uttered a soft curse, scooping you up with one arm as the other rested just below your ass like a seat as he pressed you against his body and hurried toward your cabin.

“Mando?”

You had a thousand and one questions but your tongue refused to work, everything was starting to feel fuzzy, and Mando continued to utter curses as he set you into your bunk and disappeared. The thick air seemed to follow him, your room suddenly felt too small and your skin was too hot, hurriedly you began to fumble with your flight suit to just get it off. It was like you couldn’t breathe all of a sudden, everything was too tight and your clothes felt itchy and uncomfortable.

“Easy, hey, wait-“

Mando’s return was quiet and the door closed behind him, his hands stilling your movements, and that helmet was practically burning through you.

“You’re okay, it’s not- it’s me, this is my fault.”

“What is it?”

Your voice was hoarse as if you’d been screaming, you felt so thirsty, and Mando took your wrists in one hand before he made you drink from the canteen on his belt.

“My… my species releases pheromones, but they’re not- they become solid for up to an hour on contact with certain atmospheric gasses. Gasses very highly concentrated on this planet. I had to- the kid and the droid are in the bridge and they know not to come out, once we get into the air the pheromones will break down and get recycled out.” He sounded bashful, terrified even, as he explained it to you. The idea that he wasn’t human had occurred to you but not enough to make you linger on it for too long, he looked plenty human and didn’t have lekku popping out of his helmet or horn indents like a Zabrak would need, so learning he was actually not human was only a touch of a surprise.

Mando’s gloved thumb brushed your lower lip, the buttery smooth material catching on your dry skin and you felt that heat return, calling to him. Your soft whimper led to him pressing just a touch harder to your lips, his head tilting just slightly and you clenched your thighs at the gesture because the heat was back. You fel tlike you were burning from the inside but now you knew, it wasn’t the kind of fever you’d suspected.

“So- so y’like turn me on by your pheromones?”

“Only if- only if you’re interested too. It’s- it only takes if you’re also interested in me, somehow it recognizes the biochemical signs of attraction and lust in other species. Otherwise you’d just be sneezing until my mating season ends.”

“Mating- like… like kids?”

“Yes.”

“Not exactly looking to have kids yet, if at all, Mando. It’s why I’ve got an implant.”

“I do too, an implant I mean and I know it works, but my body still thinks- it’s biological to ensure the species continues.”

Your head still felt fuzzy but it wasn’t as bad as before and you found yourself staring into that dark visor wondering, his explanation implied that he could tell you were at least interested in him but not if it went the other way or if you just were the only one in a certain area that was even present to react.

“Does it- why are Belt and Grogu confined to the bridge?” You abandoned your first train of thought, not sure if you wanted to find out that he didn’t want you, instead you focused on the other things going on.

“I don’t want either one of them to suffer any adverse effects, Belt’s internal systems create heat and it might cause the solidified pheromones to gunk up inside his system and the kid is- well we don’t know his species at all. I also- I didn’t want them to hear if… if you wanted help.” The way he grew quiet, nervous, was like lightning down your spine; he was still pinning your arms in place but not in a way that felt threatening.

He wanted you, which honestly just blew you away because he’d never made a sign before, but something was making him hold back.

“Why- why do you sound scared? Are we going to struggle with this if I want you to stay?”

Mando swallowed thickly, so loud you could hear it through the vocoder, and finally he exhaled a heavy breath.

“I only know about this because, well, back when I was at the covert there was another Mandalorian I unintentionally… he reacted to my pheromones.”

“He? Does your species-“

“Sequential hermaphroditism, bidirectional. Depending on the genetic identification of the potential partner my species will… our genitals will change. I have a working set of reproductive organs that are both male and female, but being born male my usual state of being is male and it’s what I identify as.” You blinked and the influx of new information made you struggle against his hands, the hunter letting you go and flinching when you captured one of his hands in yours as you sat up.

“Talk to me, Mando, what happened.”

“He found out- he found out about me and what I was and rejected me. Publicly, at that, before choosing to fight me. Paz was- he was always larger, more strength in close combat than me, and had the Armorer not intervened he may have been able to overpower me and remove my helmet.” The fact that someone who -if what Mando had told you was completely accurate- had some attraction to Mando was even willing to go that far, to beat the brakes off him, infuriated you. He was scared of being rejected, again, and you squeezed his hand in yours.

The gesture made the air grow thick again, your vision blurring a little, but you situated yourself right in his lap after pushing him to sit on your bed.

“I’m not rejecting you, Mando, I want this. You. But only if you want it too-“

His helmet pressed into your forehead, interrupting you with the gesture, the slur of your voice fading into a whine as those large hands of his moved to hold your hips in place and stop you from grinding into his lap.

“You don’t know how long I have wanted this, mesh’la. But you- you deserve-“

“Don’t you fucking start with that, I don’t care what you think I deserve. It’s about what I want you karking idiot.” To emphasize your statement you tapped your forehead against his helmet and tugged on his cowl, looking right where you were sure his eyes were behind that dark visor. Everything was heightened, the feeling of his hands on you and the sharp need that was burning between your legs, you could see the flecks of soft fuzz in the air, and your tongue tasted sweet as he growled behind that bucket of his.

Clearly your insistence that you wanted him was making him release more of those pheromones.

“I’m going to wreck this needy little cunt, I’m going to be the only one able to fuck you the way you need.” There was threat, promise, and desire all wrapped into that one statement and you tugged harder at his cowl to reveal the tanned skin hidden underneath; he moaned long and loud as you gave into your immediate desire to sink your teeth into that newly revealed skin and leave a sign of your claim. You pulled back just enough to tell him to do something, anything, because your skin felt like it was on fire.

“Mando-“

“Din, my name is Din Djarin, and I’m going to have you screaming it.”

“We’ll see about-“

Your challenge excited him, obviously, if the sudden tearing of fabric was an indicator. The chill of air between your legs made you jolt and pull away from his neck, which also gave Din the advantage he needed to shove you off his lap, and before you could even try to pin him down the hunter was on the move. You backed up as your pride screamed to give him a challenge, a chase, but those damn pheromones made your knees weak.

He captured you in his arms with a low chuckle before dragging you back toward him and you yelped when he spun you around so suddenly, his gloved hand dragging through your wet folds as he shoved your upper body over the pull-out table in your room. You keened at the sensation of his gloved fingers on your skin, trying to struggle but his grip on your wrists was firm as he held them against your lower back, and he used his free hand to hold your legs and maneuver his shoulders between them leaving you fully exposed to him as he crouched behind you.

“That’s it, mesh’la, look at you dripping for me. Don’t try to look.” His warning made you shiver but the hiss of pneumatic pressure releasing followed by the hot breath of air on your exposed cunt was enough to make you keen. You hadn’t realized he’d ripped through the multiple layers you were wearing, the fact that he was strong enough to do so only made you throb, and the clatter of metal was the only warning you got before he began truly devouring you.

It took no time for you to realize his tongue was textured, and not like a human, but not in a way that was painful; it was strange but it felt good, really good as he licked through your folds and stopped to circle your clit. The long, wide, stroke made you moan shamelessly into the tabletop as your floor muscles tried to tighten and relax all at once between the impending orgasm and your body’s desire to take more of him. Every slurp, every suckle, and every touch of his mouth was a rocketing you closer and closer to a dazzling end; it had been cycles since a partner had made you orgasm in bed and your chest heaved as you tried to rock back even a little against his face.

Every breath you took was thick, the air spicy and musky, and your head was spinning in the best way as more and more wetness your body made was lapped up like a massiff with a meiluroon. It was to the point that you couldn’t even close your mouth, his name was a prayer and a plea on your lips as you squirmed with your cheek pressed into the flat surface.

The rasp of facial hair, the low moans of delight from Din vibrating against your body, and the feeling of his leather clad fingers pressing into the skin of your ass with his thumb holding you open wider for him was overwhelming and yet not enough. Your body tightened when his thumb dragged down, his grip on your wrists tightening, and as he used his thumb to circle your clit with that buttery soft leather it was like explosions under your skin.

Everything tightened up and you wailed his name as your orgasm slammed through you, writhing against the sensation as he continued to drink you down, and you were so sensitive that he quickly pushed you into a second orgasm that left you drooling a little from the intensity. Between the hazy pheromones and the endorphins now flooding your system you were pliant as he let your hands go, helmet returned to his head, and Din chuckled softly behind you before you heard the unmistakable sound of his bandolier being set aside.

Din didn’t take off much, you caught a glimpse of his fauld and tasset on the floor, before you heard the zipper sound as he freed himself from his flight suit; he kept you on the table, this time taking your hands and holding them both above your head, and you whimpered when you felt the slick glide of him between your thighs. How you had assumed he’d have a human cock, since he’d proven to be very alien outside of a generally human skin tone and frame, was beyond you so feeling the extra ridges and not quite human shape along his shaft as he slicked himself up with your body left you shivering.

The heat was back and your body was practically leaking at this point, you needed him to fuck you more than you needed to breathe, your tongue felt thick and swollen but you didn’t care how slurred and lust drunk you sounded.

“Din, please Din ‘m so wet- need your cock. Please-“

“That’s it, mesh’la, sound so fucking pretty begging for me.”

Your pleas turned into a sharp inhale and a deep moan from somewhere in your chest as Din’s cock finally pressed between your lips and into your body, it felt so good that your eyes rolled back and a full body shiver made you tense up around him, all while your body stretched deliciously for him. You couldn’t exactly picture what his dick looked like based off the feel but it was alien, he was throbbing inside of you, and that dull heat roared to life as you began trying to squirm.

“Please fuck me- shit, Din please-!”

Your eyes clenched shut as you fought, attempting to get some sort of friction, and Din snarled behind you as he pressed more weight onto your hands and thrust down into your body so deep it felt like he was punching through you. At his base he felt bulbous, the squelch of sound that accompanied him pulling himself back echoed in the room from how wet you were, and the head of him was flatter with a flare to it that kept him from pulling out of you entirely before he was filling you again.

That roaring heat was consuming, your skin hot under the layers of clothes you were both still wearing, and each time he filled you Din’s raspy moans and breathy exhales echoed through his vocoder along with a string of filth. Your own attempts at speech were reduced to pitiful whines or long moans, your fingers flexing as Din held you where he wanted you.

“Maker you’re so fucking tight, so fucking wet-“

The slap of skin on skin was only made more noticeable by the slick noises when he filled you deep and your coordination was all fucked up because of the pheromones so all you could do was lay there and writhe against him.

“Your little cunt was made for me, mesh’la.”

“Y-yes Din, s’yours-!”

You agreement made him release your hands and pull you up, one large hand now spread across the center of your collar as his other arm was banded across your waist since your legs were useless at this point, and even now you fumbled to try and get leverage somewhere. You brought one of your hands up to grip his cowl as your other hand fumbled along the outer seam of your body to feel the shape of him.

Your breath jumped when you felt one of the ridges you’d touched flex and you threw your head back when that part of him slipped out of you and up along your seam, the end of it was also flat but at an angle with a divot of some kind and Din shuddered as you touched the tip of it before he captured your free hand and held it flat against your own chest.

“Let me- I’ll cum too soon if you do that.”

You wailed when that appendage found your clit, the divot resting against your swollen bud, and you could have sworn it was sucking with the sudden and overwhelming sensation that made every muscle in your body tighten up as stars exploded behind your eyelids. You’d never come so hard, every part of your body was tingling like it had fallen asleep from the tips of your toes to your scalp, and the wet splatter of your release on the floor made Din snarl as he continued to fuck up into you.

“Din- ‘s too much I can’t-“

“One more, one fucking more, then I’m going to fill this little cunt. I know you can do it.”

Your body was powerless to resist, and the fact that he was fucking you while standing up with your legs basically reduced to wet noodles was enough to make your cunt spam one last time before Din was humping you as he rode out his own release. Your legs were weak when he began to loosen his grip, making you grab his cowl and arm for support, and Din walked you the few steps over to your bunk before he pulled you against him and used his cloak like a blanket to cover where the two of you were still joined.

“Sleep, mesh’la, rest. I’ll be here.”

You wondered if the pheromones could also cause you to sleep, or if he’d just fucked you out so good that you were exhausted, but your eyelids drooped and as you did slip into dreamland you heard him whispering something in a language you didn’t understand and you smiled knowing that he’d be here when you woke up.

All Fics Taglist: @hardc0rehaylz @wordsnwhiskey @pagannightwitch @radiowallet @musings-of-a-rose

Just Pedro Taglist: @maievdenoir @beecastle @littlemisspascal @writeforfandoms

Alt Taglist: @imtryingmybeskar @fan-of-encouragement @grogusmum @sizzlingcloudmentality @deadhumourist @prostitute-robot-from-the-future

#chaoticwrites #din x fem!reader #din djarin x f!reader #read the warnings please #minors dni

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simic-initiate · 3 years ago

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Revisiting Mechanics in Ravnica

Recently someone spoke about a mechanic that would have benefit from two sets instead of one, which led me thinking to how some mechanics could be reused and in particular I thought ‘what if on the next Return to Ravnica they didn’t make a new mechanic for each guild but instead gave them returning mechanics?’

So for each guild here’s what I would like to see come back. None from previous Ranvica sets though, too obvious, plus Convoke and Surveil already show this process can happen the other way around, I’m interested in seeing mechanics not native to Ravnica get used.

AZORIOUS - FORETELL I believe Foretell would suit White/Blue well and it is already the pairing that represents the mechanic most. Azorious often has an instant/sorcery mechanic, Foretell can do both and has a similar name to their first mechanic, Forecast. Runner-up for this slot, Shield Counters.

BOROS - RAID If there is any guild that wants to reward you for attacking it’s Boros, and I know we all can be a bit tired of Boros being the Attack Step color combination, but that’s just the trigger for the ability word, from there plenty of flexibility is available. It can go on sorceries and instants, just limiting them to combat or your turn for maximum value, and further expands the mechanic in White. Runner-up, Bushido.

SELESNYA - ALLIANCE Ravnica’s premiere token loving commune would excel with a mechanic like Alliance, a consistent reward for generating creatures and ways to get very explosive when mass-producing.

ORZHOV - EXPLOIT Undeniable flavor, and one may think mono-white cards could never have this mechanic but there is recent precedent on Angelic Purge, Reaper of Flight Moonsilver, Lunarch Mantle and Extricator of Sin. So for Orzhov I wager we could afford a little bend. A sacrifice mechanic is a perfect fit for Orzhov. Runners-Up, Evoke and Disturb.

IZZET - ENTWINE Simply must have an Instant/Sorcery mechanic for Izzet and I feel there is a lot of untapped potential in Entwine! What could be more Izzet than offering two spells in one, with the option to use both if you can afford it! Not as flashy as Overload but the effects you could use and design effects that interact with each other in interesting ways, I’d love to see Entwine expanded upon, it’s only ever been used on a single multi-color card! Interchangeable for this slot is Escalate, on cards with 2 modes these are almost identical mechanics.

SIMIC - MUTATE This was the mechanic that inspired this fun thought exercise! Mutate seems like a perfect fit for the Simic Combine, modifying creatures using other creatures is their whole schtick. Having a single guild handling the mechanic might make it difficult to hit the as-fan needed to make it usable in draft, but beyond that hurdle this feels like a slam dunk. Runner-up, Modified.

DIMIR - SPLICE Specifically, Splice Onto Instant Or Sorcery, allowing Dimir to repeat effects without having to jump through the hoops of hitting the opponent like Cipher, instead they just need a steady supply of cheap spells. I was debating on Splice being put here or Foretell since laying down face-down trap cards can feel very Dimir.

RAKDOS - MADNESS Harkening back to Hellbent I’d love to see Rakdos enjoy more self-discard and the reuse of Madness on Innistrad has me further encouraged. Reaping extra effects off discarding eventually leading to an empty hand feels perfect, and if we could make the discard symmetrical the downside of being empty handed isn’t so bad when everyone is top-decking.

GOLGARI - PERSIST Surely we all know Persist is better and more interesting than Undying? Obviously Undying is the stronger mechanic but it isn’t anywhere near as exciting to me. Runner-up for this slot was Morbid, and we could still use plenty of death triggers without the ability word itself marking it. 2nd Runner-up is Unearth, but we just got a load of Unearth in Brother’s War and I wanted to feature mechanics with less limelight.

GRUUL - EXERT I’m still shocked Exert has not been reused outside of Amonkhet! An exceptional cost/benefit mechanic and Hour of Devastation showed it can be used for tap abilities as well! I feel there is a lot more space for this very solid combat and creature mechanic. Runner-up, Channel.

#mtg #magic #magic: the gathering #magic the gathering #ravnica #guilds of ravnica

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nerdythebard · 4 years ago

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#28: Awilix, Goddess of the Moon

Greetings once again, Gods and Goddesses!

This build marks the end of a chapter. By making the moon-clad Maya huntress Awilix, we're finished (for now) with the SMITE gods beginning with the letter A. It's been a while, but we did it, friends! Now, back to Awilix; this quick and deadly fighter prowls the night and brings destruction to all who dare oppose her.

Next Time: Gone, gone the form of man...

Now, what do we need to play as the Queen of the Night who hunts and dances with the beasts under the pale moonlight?

The Other Black Panther: Awilix prowls the SMITE jungles with her faithful companion/mount, the panther Suku.

Fly Me to the Moon: High Single Target damage and High Mobility make Awilix a nimble and dextrous fighter, capable of quickly disengaging and repositioning in an instant.

Cirque du Lune: Awilix has two abilities related to leaping/defying gravity: both her Feather Step and her Ultimate.

---

Now, we could go with the usual Variant Human, but we're gonna have a little fun here and also implement Awilix's tattoos. We're looking at the Eberron: Rising from the Last War book to pick Human (Mark of Passage). We get a +2 Dexterity and +1 to one ability of our choice (Strength), 35 feet of movement speed, ability to speak Common and one other language of our choice, and an extra 1d4 to any Dexterity check or saving throw related to operating a land vehicle (mounts included). We are also able to cast the Misty Step spell once per long rest with Dexterity being our casting ability, and if we choose a class with spellcasting (spoiler: we will), we also get some extra spells.

For her background, we're going to make Awilix an Outlander, as she is the moon that wanders unbound. We gain proficiency in Athletics and Survival, proficiency with one musical instrument of our choice and we learn one additional language. The Wanderer feature gives us excellent memory for geographical locations, landmarks, and maps.

ABILITY SCORES

Dexterity will be our highest stat - we're a nimble skulker who wears little armour, we need this to be a priority. Constitution will be next; if we take a hit, we need to make it like Taylor Swift and shake it off. Charisma will be next, we need it as both multiclass requirement and spellcasting ability. What is more intimidating than a jaguar in the jungle?

Strength follows, similarly to Charisma - we're gonna need it for multiclass. Wisdom is next, low but we need other things more. We'll fix it later. Finally, we're dumping Intelligence - not a lot of academic opportunities in the jungle. Just ask Mowgli.

CLASS

Level 1 - Monk: Unexpected, I assume, but we need to limit our magic potential (Awilix is a Melee Physical character), so we're not using Ranger. Monks get a d8 as their Hit Dice, [8 + our Constitution modifier] initial Hit Points, proficiencies in simple weapons and shortswords and with one type of artisan tools (picking tinker's tools lets us repair stuff). Our saving throws are Strength and Dexterity, and we get to pick two class skills; let's get Acrobatics and Stealth.

Monks start with Unarmoured Defence, which gives us AC equal to [10 + our Dexterity modifier + our Wisdom modifier] if we're not wearing any armour or wielding a shield. Thanks to Martial Arts, we gain some benefits to our unarmed strikes and monk weapons: we can use Dexterity instead of Strength for our attack and damage rolls, we roll a 1d4 instead of regular damage, and when we use an unarmed strike/monk weapon as an Attack, we can make one more unarmed strike as a bonus action.

Level 2 - Monk: We gain access to the Ki energy to fuel some additional techniques. Starting with 2 Ki Points, we get three effects:

Flurry of Blows: spending 1 Ki Point lets us make two unarmed strikes as a bonus action after making an attack action.

Step of the Wind: spending 1 Ki Point lets us take Dash and Disengage actions as a bonus action (and our jump distance is doubled) on our turn.

Patient Defence: spending 1 Ki Point lets us take the Dodge action as a bonus action on our turn.

With Unarmoured Movement, we gain extra 10 feet of movement permanently as long as we're not wearing armour or wielding a shield.

Level 3 - Monk: We can now Deflect Missiles. If we're hit by a projectile, we can use a reaction to reduce damage by [1d10 + our Dexterity modifier + our Monk level]; if the damage is reduced to 0, we catch the projectile and can use the same reaction to make a ranged (20/60) attack.

At this level, we get to pick our subclass - our Monastic Tradition - and for a sneaky jungle prowler like Awilix, we're going with The Way of Shadow. Using Shadow Arts, we can spend 2 Ki Points to cast one of the following spells: Darkness, Darkvision, Pass Without Trace, or Silence without material components. We also learn the Minor Illusion cantrip.

Level 4 - Monk: Time for our first Ability Score Improvement! Let's raise our Strength and Dexterity for this one. We also get Slow Fall. We can now use our reaction when falling to reduce the damage by [our Monk level x5].

Level 5 - Paladin: Once again, probably unexpected, but there is a reason. Stay with me. Multiclassing into Paladin gives us proficiencies with light armour, medium armour, shields, and martial weapons. We start with Divine Sense. Once per long rest, until the end of our next turn, we can sense the presence of celestials, fiends, or undead within 60 feet of us.

With Lay on Hands, we have a pool of healing energy equal to [our Paladin level x5] which we can use (as an action) to heal a creature we touch. Alternatively, we can spend 5 healing points to remove one disease or poison from the target.

Level 6 - Paladin: With Divine Smite, whenever we hit a creature with a weapon attack, we can burn one spell slot to deal extra 2d8 radiant damage (+1d8 for every spell slot, up to 5d8). If the target is a fiend or undead, they receive extra 1d8 radiant damage. We also get to pick a Fighting Style. For Awilix, who wields a single spear, the Duelling style will be best; when we use our spear and no other weapon, we get a +2 bonus to damage rolls.

At this level, Paladins also get Spellcasting. Charisma is our casting ability, and we can't learn cantrips or rituals. Paladins have access to their full spell list and can each day prepare [Charisma modifier + half of Paladin level rounded down] spells. We start with two 1st-level spell slots:

Divine Favour gives us quick empowerment. For 1 minute (concentration), our weapon attacks deal 1d4 radiant damage on a successful hit.

Cure Wounds is always useful when roaming the jungle. A creature we touch regains [1d8 + our casting ability modifier] Hit Points.

Thanks to our Mark of Passage, we also have the following two spells:

Expeditious Retreat lasts for 10 minutes (concentration) and lets us take the Dash action as a bonus action on each of our turns.

Jump triples our jump distance for 1 minute.

Level 7 - Paladin: Thanks to our Divine Health, we are now completely immune to any disease. At this point, we also get to pick our second subclass, our Sacred Oath. None of the subclasses presented seems to suit Awilix to the T, so we shall take the least harmful one - Oath of the Watchers for the huntress in the dark. We start with two Oath Spells (they are always prepared for us):

Alarm puts up a surveillance barrier for 8 hours in a 30 feet area. We can designate a number of creatures that do not trigger the barrier and we get an auditory cue whenever anything else enters the premises.

Detect Magic lets us sense any magical activity in a 30 feet area for 10 minutes (concentration). We see a magical aura on objects and people affected by spells, but we cannot identify the spell (only its type, i.e. Transmutation but not the Polymorph spell).

Paladins also get access to the Cleric's Channel Divinity feature; once per short or long rest, the Paladin can call upon one of the following effects:

Watcher's Will: For 1 minute, a number of creatures equal to our Charisma modifier (that are within 30 feet of us) have an advantage on Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma saving throws.

Abjure the Extraplanar: Each aberration, celestial, elemental, fey, or fiend within 30 feet of us must succeed on a Wisdom saving throw or become turned for 1 minute (they must spend their turn to get as far away from us as possible, and cannot get closer than 30 feet to us).

Level 8 - Paladin: Time for another Ability Score Improvement. Let's cap our Dexterity to a 20. Additionally, we can add another Paladin spell to our repertoire: Command lets us utter a one-word order to one creature within 60 feet of us. If the target fails their Wisdom saving throw, they are compelled to carry out the instruction to the best of their ability on their next turn. The command cannot be related to inflicting harm onto the target.

Level 9 - Paladin: This is our final Paladin level for the build, and we get the Extra Attack feature. It lets us attack twice instead of one time during a single Attack action.

We now get access to 2nd-level spells: with Find Steed we can finally get our companion/mount, Suku. The spell summons a spirit for 10 minutes that takes a shape of an animal we can use as a mount. Although panther is not one of the options, the description states the DM might allow another animal (or just reflavour one of the options).

We get two more spells from both our Mark of Passage, but we do already know those, and from our Sacred Oath:

See Invisibility lasts for 1 hour and lets us see invisible creatures and objects. They appear ghostly and translucent.

Moonbeam calls down a cylinder (5-foot-radius, 40-foot-high) of moonlight that lasts for up to 1 minute (concentration). Creatures that begin or end their turn in the moonlight must make a Constitution saving throw or take 2d10 radiant damage (half damage on a successful one). Shapeshifters make the saving throw with a disadvantage. On a failed save, they also return to their original form.

Level 10 - Monk: Halfway through the build and we return to the Monk. Our Martial Arts die becomes a 1d6 now. We would've also get Extra Attack here, but we do already know it.

We do, however, get Stunning Strike. When we successfully hit a creature with a melee weapon attack, we can spend 1 Ki Point and attempt to immobilize it. The target must succeed on a Constitution saving throw or be stunned until the end of our next turn.

Level 11 - Monk: Our Unarmoured Movement now becomes a +15 feet bonus. We also get Ki-Empowered Strikes, to make our attacks magical for the purpose of overcoming resistances and immunities.

From our subclass, we get Shadow Step. When we're in dim light or complete darkness, we can use a bonus action to teleport up to 60 feet to an unoccupied space that is also shrouded in the dark. Additionally, we get an advantage on the first strike before the end of our turn.

Level 12 - Monk: With the Stillness of Mind feature, we can use our action to end one charmed or frightened effect placed onto us. We also get Evasion, which is arguably one of the best abilities in the game. Whenever we're forced to make a saving throw that would result in us getting half damage on a success, we instead take no damage (and half damage on a failed throw).

Level 13 - Monk: With our next Ability Score Improvement, we're going to raise our Constitution and Wisdom by 1 point.

Level 14 - Monk: We get an improvement to our Unarmoured Movement. We can now run across liquid surfaces and vertically across walls without losing movement speed.

Level 15 - Monk: Our Unarmoured Movement increased by another 5 feet to a total of +20. Purity of Body gives us immunity to disease (which we already have thanks to our Divine Health) and poison.

Level 16 - Monk: Our Martial Arts die becomes 1d8. From our subclass, we get the Cloak of Shadows feature. When we're in dim light or complete darkness, we can use our action to become invisible until we attack, cast a spell, or move into an illuminated area.

Level 17 - Monk: With the final Ability Score Improvement of the build, we're going to increase both Constitution and Wisdom to a nice and even number.

Level 18 - Monk: Thanks to the Tongue of the Sun and Moon feature, we can now speak any language. Plus, any creature that can understand a language can understand what we say.

Level 19 - Monk: Our Unarmoured Movement reaches its peak with additional 5 feet, for the grand total of +25. With Diamond Soul, we are now proficient in all saving throws; if we fail a saving throw, we can spend 1 Ki Point to reroll it. We must use the new result regardless.

Level 20 - Monk: Our capstone is Monk 15, and we get Timeless Body. We no longer need food or water to survive, we do not age and we cannot be aged via magical means.

---

And that is Awilix, the Moon Goddess of Mesoamerica. Let's see how we did:

First off, we're the master of agility. Speedy, jumpy, and with 20 Dexterity. We can get in, sneak around, and move around the entire battlefield before the enemy even gets a chance to react. And get out equally as fast. We start with immunity to disease, which later evolves to include poison and we can communicate with pretty much every living thing.

We have the AC of 16, +5 to our Initiative, the speed of 60 feet per round, and the average HP of 150.

Unfortunately, we need to carefully manage our resources (Ki Points, Paladin spell slots) and we did not remove the negative modifier of our Intelligence. Our spells also mostly use concentration.

---

Okay, this is it. With Awilix, we're finally done with the first letter of the alphabet for SMITE gods! I'll see you in the next one, lovelies!

- Nerdy out!

#hirez smite #smite gods #awilix #paladin #monk #oath of the ancients #way of shadow #shadow monk #dnd #dnd build #dungeons and dragons #maya #d&d build #dnd 5e

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sadachmesarthim · 4 years ago

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towers for your honeycomb chapter 3: no i do not condone underage drinking i just think it's a good plot devic-

content: the boys have One Beer Each™, peter both sets and completely ignores his own boundaries, author remembers the communion chapter from "how to read literature like a professor" and bastardizes it, both of them have anxiety but neither say anything about it, smoking

words: 2k song: outskirts of paradise - bad suns

Looking Tony in the eye was like staring at the sun. Peter could barely hold his gaze, always finding an excuse to turn away.

He was sat in front of the other man a few weeks later, sharing drinks and pizza at a new brewery down the road. It’d cost him his liquor license, and potentially a clean record, if anyone found out, but Richie (their most beloved regular) offered to let the pair try the latest house brew if they ever swung through.

Peter wasn’t one for beer, but he’d accepted Tony’s invite anyway.

He wasn’t entirely sure why. Since their fight, they’d worked all of maybe three hours together. No other shifts, they avoided each other at meetings, and neither were particularly willing to reach out off the clock and apologize.

It was like the world was screaming at them to stay away from each other.

Peter wasn’t sure he wanted to listen.

After his shift that morning, Peter found Tony outside, leaning up against the hood of his car & working through his second cigarette. He drummed on the side of his thigh, keeping his empty hand busy as he waited for Peter to come out. Tony jumped at the sight of him, tossing the half finished cig down a storm drain.

“You know those lead straight to the ocean, right?” There was more amusement than anger behind his words. Peter wasn’t entirely sure what Tony was up to, but he was too tired to start shit. He crossed to the passenger side of his car, tossing his belongings to the floor.

“Even if it didn’t go through the city’s filtration system – fuck the fish.” Peter rolled his eyes. Funny as he was, Tony always had to be contradictory.

“Don’t you have, like, a school of them on your shoulder?” Tony’s normally visible salmon tattoos were safely tucked away behind a denim jacket Peter’d never seen before.

“Irrelevant.” Peter rounded the hood and turned, facing the other man. “Did you need something or were you just here to argue about my town’s plumbing system?” He huffed the words out, arms crossing in front of his chest expectantly.

“I, uh…” He suddenly went silent. The ground crunched under Tony’s feet, gravel scraping asphalt under his shoes. They were a rattier pair he owned – more tape than sole, oil staining the canvas.

“I wanted to know if you’d come to lunch with me. Today. Like, right now?” He hesitated at the last few words, like he wasn’t sure he could say them out loud. “I, uh. I’m pretty sure I have some things to say to you, and Richie’s got some good stuff waiting for us at the Pub House…”

Peter was astounded. “Who are you, and what have you done with my Tony?” My Tony? What? “I- why should I trust you? I’m sure as hell not getting in a car with you.”

Tony’s face fell. A bit of- what, disappointment? flew across his face. Peter would’ve missed it had he not been staring, impatient for his answer. Tony, floundering at the rejection, couldn’t give him one.

“Okay, maybe- how about this. I’ll think about it. Give me five minutes to go wash up and I’ll be back.” He turned & headed inside, not waiting for a response.

The cool water felt good against his burning, salt-stained cheeks. Peter hadn’t realized just how tired he was – opens had always taken it out of him, and the early spring temperatures didn’t always prevent the stand from turning into a heater during rush hour.

The soap in the stand was always too fragrant for his taste, but it did the job – it felt good to wash away the day’s work and come back looking like a new man. He smoothed his eyebrows down and dried himself off, wetting his hair a bit as he finished.

He wound up with grind in it again, brushing it out with a comb he found in the first aid kit. One of these days he was going to have to start wearing hats to work. Shampooing his hair every single day was taking its toll on his curls, and he wasn’t a fan of burnt coffee smell.

Stepping back, he squinted into the warped mirror in front of him. Much better.

Back outside, Tony’d lit up his third cigarette of the day. The shakes’d largely abandoned him, allowing his anxiety to drift inward. The sticks only did so much – he missed the higher, stronger hit of his Suorin, but he was trying to quit (ironically enough).

He was actually able to finish this one by the time Peter made his way back outside, looking significantly better without $5 worth of product on his face.

“Okay, some rules.” He came up, stopping just short of Tony. “You’re paying for both of us. We leave whenever I want, without complaint. We go straight there and come straight back - it’s eight blocks, I don’t want any bullshit scenic routes.” His tone was firm – something Tony’d never encountered with him before.

“Yes. Yes, anything. Okay.”

Tony’s car was a lot nicer than Peter anticipated. He’d recently sold his truck, swapping it for a silver Mini Cooper instead. It was a pretty little thing, just up his alley.

It was also fucking obnoxious. He’d bought it with a modified exhaust and had plans to make it even louder. You could almost always hear him coming, little pop pop pops audible for quite a ways.

It was… less clean than Peter expected. Tony was always so well put together, so well-maintained - seeing stray gum wrappers and drink cups littered around the interior was almost jarring. He didn’t realize he was staring until Tony spoke up.

“She’s nice, isn’t she?” Peter nodded. He silently took in his new surroundings, nerves on fire. He’d never done well around strangers, in new places. His mind’d always screamed at him, danger unsafe bad run, overriding his sensibilities.

“Hey, are you good? I can take you back if you need.” They’d barely left the Outback parking lot.

“No- no, I think I’ll be okay. Just… not where I thought I’d end up when I woke up today, y’know?” Peter tried to laugh it off, but he’d always been pretty transparent.

Tony turned a corner, cutting back into the lot they just came from and turning the car off. “Seriously, Peter. If you don’t want to come to lunch with me just say so. I’ll take you back to your car and we can pretend it never happened.” Okay, seriously, who the fuck is this guy and what did he do with Tony?

“No, I- I think I’m okay. Seriously. Let’s just go and get it over with - I kinda want to hear you grovel anyway.” He settled further into his seat, failing to shake away the agitation.

The flatbread was actually really good. It was more of a hipster take on pizza - white sauce and pearl onions definitely making it stand out - but it wasn’t a bad lunch by any means.

The beer definitely wasn’t Peter’s favorite. He was barely sipping by, trying hard to keep a straight face as he swallowed. Damn Richie anyway.

It’d started off awkward enough - discussing where to sit, small talk about their week, the weather. It felt more like a bad first date than an apology, but-

“I really am sorry. For what happened in the fridge.”

Oh.

“Okay. Why?” Peter tightened the hand around his glass, bracing for Tony’s next words.

“I.. I was kind of an asshole when I was younger, too. I figured I could make a fresh start here with a brand new town of people that didn’t know or assume anything about me.

“I was doing okay for a little while, too, but I don’t know man I just.. something happened and I just- I don’t know why I’m a dick to you. But I’m trying not to be. This is that, like, ‘first step’, I guess?” Peter nodded along, attentive.

"So, I don't know. I'm sorry for being a dick to you at work. I'm sorry for being a dick to the girls. I shouldn't yell at you or drag your family into this bullshit - I'm sorry, Peter."

There it was again, that name. His first fucking name.

“I- thank you, Tony. It’s a start, and I certainly haven’t forgiven you, but… thank you. Seriously.” Tony sighed, shoulders visibly relaxing. Peter let go of his glass and wiped it off, standing and walking around to Tony’s side of the table.

“Okay then, time for a do-over! Hi, I’m Peter Parker. I’m 19 and I’ve worked at Outback North Espresso for a little over 9 months. What’s your name?” He stuck his hand out, waiting for Tony to make the next move.

Tony laughed, pushing his chair back and standing to meet the other teen. “Okay, uh, I’m Tony Stark, I’m 18, and I’ve worked at Outback for almost 6. Nice to re-meet you, Peter.” He shook Peter’s hand, awestruck at just how soft it was. He quickly steeled his face and sat back down, releasing Peter and allowing him to do the same.

Once he was sat back down at his side, Peter looked up, confused. “Wait, you’re still 18?”

Tony laughed. “Not for long. My birthday’s at the end of next month.”

“Wow, I can’t believe I’m older than you!”

Tony rolled his eyes. “That’s - it’s literally three months, that barely counts.”

Their debate lasted well into the afternoon, alongside several other discussions. Peter’s childhood in Richland, and what it was like growing up there. What Federal Way was like, and why Tony left. Peter could tell he was remaining intentionally vague, but didn’t push it.

Their beers were warm and the pizza was long gone by the time they abandoned their table. Tony guided him out the back, hand high on his arm.

Once they were back in the car, Peter’s anxiety returned. It was like he’d spent the last few hours speaking to a completely different person, and now that he was sitting mere inches from Tony…

He wasn’t scared. He wasn’t. He wasn’t… sure, exactly. What it was.

Tony spoke up when he noticed the tension in his passenger seat.

“Hey, we’ll get you back to your car soon, I promise. Eight blocks, remember?” His right hand made its way to Peter’s knee, digging soft circles into the denim. Just like in the fridge.

“Please don’t- don’t touch me. Without asking.” It came out harsher than intended.

“Okay, all good. No worries. We’re like, two minutes away.” Tony eased off the clutch, turning right out of the parking lot and onto the road. The windows rolled down and Peter let his head fall back in relief. Fresh air always helped him clear his head.

It really was a short drive - right turn, left turn, right turn - and they were back at Peter’s car. The doors unlocked, and he was out in an instant. A bit too fast to be respectful, if he was being honest, but he knew he needed out. Tony stopped him before he was able to get in his car.

“Hey, for real. Thank you for today. I’m sorry if it was too much.”

Peter looked over and down to meet his eyes. “I- yeah, of course. No, yeah, thank you. For the apology. I’m sorry I freaked out on you. But no this- it was good. Yeah. Thank you, Tony.”

He turned, unlocking the door and closing it before either could say anything else. After turning the key he sped off, without throwing even a glance behind him.

Tony watched as Peter peeled away, reaching for the box of Pall Malls in his cupholder. He lit one, shifting into first and heading in the opposite direction.

Not bad. Not good, but not bad.

lmk if u want on or off the tags list!

@snowstark @kaleidoscopeluli @parkerrbitch @carelessannie @bluestarker @longlivestarker

#starker #peter parker/tony stark #.mine #peter parker x tony stark #ironspider #coffee shop au #.text #.fic

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luxekook · 5 years ago

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chapter seven.

⇥ pairing: ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 3.6k

⇥ warnings: 18+, lots of cursing, general chaotic energy, poly relationship, a short confrontation, mentions of slut-shaming, switch!reader, dom!joon, switch!jin, sub!jimin, library shenanigans, an abundance of coffee, punishments, spanking, bad puns (jin is in this chapter, DUH), many nerd references uwu

Chapter Seven

Quinn Library – 3:54pm

The end of September passes in a blur of studying, partying, volunteering, and spending time with friends. The month’s conclusion also includes the increasing presence of seven boys in my everyday routine.

Since giving Taehyung the suck of his life in the bathroom of Hannigan’s, I have been basically fighting off the seven of them for a moment to breathe. But, sometimes breathing is overrated when being smothered by affection.

Going from being single to essentially dating seven people is quite the adjustment. I found myself growing attached to them – something that both excited and scared the shit out of me. We haven’t discussed labels or anything, but I figure it’s only a matter of time. The boys have apparently been planning an elaborate first date for this upcoming weekend, and I feel like they’ll probably ask to make it official then.

My stomach erupts in butterflies at the thought, and I take a calming breath. No need to overthink such things.

While it might be unconventional by some societal standards, polyamory is simply a way to love. Why should love come with confines? With binary expectations? The saying ‘love is love’ gets thrown around a lot, but I believe it bears repeating.

Jenni and Luna have been nothing but supportive to me over the past two weeks. They even came with me to volunteer this past weekend because they - and I quote - wanted to ‘check out our vibe’. But, I wholeheartedly expect that the real reason had actually been for them to feel out the boys’ intentions.

Why did I suspect this? Well, because Jungkook had come up to me within the first fifteen minutes at the worksite quivering in fear over how ‘scary my friends were’ and how ‘Jenni had cornered him to interrogate him while Luna hovered behind her, menacingly holding a nail-gun’.

I had never felt more loved and supported by my friends.

My phone dings, and I quickly hasten to put it on silent, shooting an embarrassed and apologetic look around the library. It seems like most people have headphones in, and I let out a sigh of relief. No one wants to be that one loud person in the library.

Checking my notifications, I smile when I see it’s a SnapChat from Hobi in the group chat the boys created a few weeks ago. My thumb swipes it open, and I barely contain myself from announcing to the whole library how vibrantly handsome one of my potential boyfriends is.

I quickly send a SnapChat back of me and my stack of books in the library with the caption ‘send help in the form of coffee’.

Immediately, Taehyung sends a flurry of heart eyes emojis in the chat, Jungkook sends a ‘noona is so cute’, and Yoongi sends back a picture of a black screen with the caption ‘come nap with me’.

God, I would love to nap with Yoongi right now… Alone time with the older boy is so elusively precious. One day last week at their house, I had mentioned wanting to learn piano. Yoongi had just grabbed my hand and tugged me to his room. We had spent a couple hours together in the small corner of his room playing on his keyboard.

Well, he had been playing; I had been fumbling around like a buffoon - half uncoordinated in general and half flustered by how good Yoongi looked playing. His hands had been so nimble as they flew over the keys, crafting melodies I could only assume he had composed. His focus had been so fucking hot as he nodded slightly along to the tempo in his head, his eyes shooting over to look at me every once in a while.

My hand kink? Activated.

My willpower to not kiss the shit out of Yoongi? Nonexistent.

When Yoongi had paused in between songs, I may or may not have grabbed him by his shirt collar and kissed him. His blushing attempt to dodge me had been so cute; and when I had stopped trying to kiss him, he had pouted and then kissed me instead.

What a cutie…

A giggle draws my attention from my reminiscing. At first, I pay it no mind, taking it as a directive to dive back into my studies. But then, the whispering starts.

“I heard she’s fucking her way through the whole house.”

“Isn’t there a term for that?”

“Yeah, a frat rat.”

I slam my 500-page textbook closed and stand, leveling the duo of gossiping girls with a glare that could make grown men cry. It had before when I had to properly eviscerate my uncle in defense of feminism at our last family gathering. What a time that had been.

“Is there a problem?” I force the question through gritted teeth, stalking over towards their nearby table. I relish in the way they gape at me, eyes wide and pupils quivering, “I’m sorry. I’m afraid my complaint jar is at capacity. Please don’t try again later.”

The girl on the right gulps, “No-nope, there’s no problem! We were just leaving. Right, Janika?”

“No,” The girl who had called me a ‘frat rat’ just moments before crosses her arms and stands, “I do, like, have a problem.”

“Janika,” The other girl tugs on the sleeve of the one standing, “Don’t.”

“Yeah, Janika,” I smile, “Don’t.”

I can see the moment she snaps.

“You’re, like, such a fucking bitch! I don’t know what they all see in you. Oh wait, yes I do. You’re fucking easy.”

I consider myself to be a patient person, but having to endure this type of rant against my character - and against women’s sexual freedom in general - has pushed me well past my limits.

“Now, listen here, Janika,” I take another step forward, “You can keep talking your shit. I really don’t give a flying fuck what you think about me. But I really advise you to google ‘how to stop slut-shaming for dummies’ because it seems like you need a crash course.”

Janika’s face darkens, “Whatever. They’ll get tired of you anyway.”

“Yeah,” I let out an amused laugh, “I’m sure they’ll get real tired of me choking on their dicks every night.”

Letting out a gasp, Janika whirls back around to face her silent friend, “Let’s go. I don’t want to, like, be around her any longer.”

“Buh-bye now,”I wiggle my fingers in their direction as they shuffle out of the library.

Smiling in satisfaction, I head back towards my table. Without hesitation, I gather my books and belongings and head upstairs to the quiet floor. Any more distractions or confrontations would probably make my blood pressure pop off the charts.

The quiet floor, as one of my safe havens, is home to several small private study rooms. Peering into each, I start to lose hope that any would be available. Finally, the very last room proves me wrong, and I swing open the door and almost in tears over the sweet, sweet solitude.

This particular study room is tucked away in the very far corner of the library’s second floor. Not many people are aware of its location, and it seems that paid off for me today. Plopping my things down across the table in the center of the tiny room, I follow suit and drop down into one of the two chairs adjoining the table.

What a clusterfuck of an afternoon… This sadly isn’t the first time I’ve heard some comments being made about my association with the BTS boys, and I knew it wouldn’t be the last. Yet, part of me knew all along that this would be the trade-off.

After all, what are a few irrelevant opinions to seven gorgeous and loyal partners? Inconsequential - in my opinion. That is the reason why I haven’t breathed a word of the backlash to anyone.

Sighing, I flip open my textbook to where I had been before being rudely interrupted.

The amygdala plays a key role in emotion and behavior…

“Noona?”

I jump a half-mile out of my chair, slapping a hand over my pounding heart. Jimin had somehow managed to enter the room without my knowledge. Had he fucking teleported?

Holding a giant iced coffee in one hand and a cinnamon bun in the other, Jimin beams at me and ignores the fact he just scared the living shit out of me. “Hi, noona! I saw your SnapChat while I was in class, and I came here as soon as I could.”

I stare dumbfounded at the angel before me. Jimin is slightly out of breath with reddened cheeks and a sweaty brow. His black track-pants are slung low on his hips, his long-sleeve white t-shirt clings to his torso, his black duffle bag thrown carelessly over one shoulder. He must have run over straight from dance class.

Standing abruptly, I stalk over to where Jimin is still posted up by the doorway to the study room. Toe to toe with him, I blurt out while still half in a daze, “You really brought me coffee and food?”

He eyes me warily like I might suddenly jump on him at any moment. Shifting his weight back and forth, Jimin hesitantly replies, “Um, yes?"

I take the coffee and cinnamon bun from his hands, place them on the table, and then tackle him with the biggest hug. "You absolute sweetheart!" I murmur into the crook of his neck, "This made my day. Thank you, Jimin-ie."

His hands tentatively wrap around me, pulling me closer. "You're welcome, noona. I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

“Well, I really appreciate it, baby,” My lips brush over the crevice of his collarbone and relish in his shudder. Bringing my head up to face his, I smile widely at him, “Can I kiss you, Jimin-ie?”

“Yes,” He sighs out, eyes already closing in anticipation. I press my lips to his, still smiling softly against his mouth. His lips are plush under mine, velvety soft. My tongue swipes across his bottom lip and— Is that coffee I taste?

I pull back, “Jimin, did you sip my coffee on your way here?”

The boy looks rightfully alarmed, “I– y-yes. But only a little, noona!”

Cute.

“Hmm,” I trail my fingers down his chest, “I guess I’ll make an exception for you this time since you were the one to bring it for me.”

Jimin relaxes slightly, but his expression is strangely disappointed. I stare at him quizzically, and he blushes.

“What is it?” I lean against the table, facing him.

He clears his throat, staring intensely at the ground, “You can still punish me if you want, (y/n)-noona.”

My eyebrows shoot upwards at his offer, and then I let out a slight chuckle, “Oh, Jimin… That would be a favor to you, wouldn’t it? My baby boy wants to be punished, hm? Did dance practice make you all hot and bothered? Jungkook tells me that has been happening to you lately.”

Jimin’s face explodes in color as he mutters, “That little bitch will pay for this.”

Suddenly, the door swings open with a resounding thud, nearly clipping Jimin in the shoulder.

“Your savior has arrived!” Kim Seokjin announces loudly in spite of the studiously silent atmosphere of the quiet floor. His hands hold two steaming hot travel mugs, which I can only guess are filled with the elixir of the gods (aka coffee).

Seokjin’s eyes glance around the room as he takes in the fact that I’m not alone as he obviously had expected. “Wait, Jimin-ie? What are you doing here?” Jin’s eyes flick down to the coffee and cinnamon roll that lay on the table. “Goddamn it!”

“You were too slow, hyung,” Jimin smirks happily as he takes a seat in the chair I had previously vacated. He slouches smugly as he stares up at the fuming older boy.

“Too slow?!” Jin roars.

“Jin,” I chastise, circumventing around him to shut the door.

“Sorry, babe,” Seokjin says while still glaring daggers at the all-too-pleased Jimin. Suddenly, his expression changes into a sneaky look that makes me both want to run and jump his bones. “Well,” He waves the two coffee mugs around in the air, “I made these myself - with love. I didn’t buy that generic shit; I brewed it, baby.”

It’s Jimin’s turn again to look disgruntled, and I can’t help but laugh at their antics.

“Any and all coffee is appreciated and loved by me – the more the merrier. So, thank you both,” You say, taking one of the travel mugs from Seokjin. Kissing his cheek, you turn back to sit opposite Jimin at the table.

“She kissed me on the lips!” Jimin bursts.

“Park Jimin!” I cry as Jin splutters some sort of incoherent rant about fairness and equality.

Jimin holds eye contact with me, still leaning back in his chair like he’s the king of the fucking universe. But, he’s not; I am.

My chair hits the wall behind me with a bang as I stand, planting my hands on the table to loom over Jimin. “Do you think it’s fun to push your hyung, Jimin? Does it amuse you to be a little shit?”

I can see the moment that Jimin decides to be a brat. His eyes heat up in a challenge, and he firmly answers, “Yes, noona.”

“Get up.” The change in my tone is apparent. Jimin gulps. Getting to his feet, he stares back at me expectantly.

“Jin,” I address the older boy while still maintaining eye contact with Jimin, “What kind of punishment do you think I should give our Jimin here?”

Seokjin rounds my other side, grinning, “Well, (y/n) darling, I believe he should get spanked.”

“Interesting choice,” I murmur, turning to face Jin, “That’s what you’re going to get then.”

“What?” Jin squawks, arms waving rapidly around in the air, “But I didn’t do anything!”

“Nothing is what you should have done, Jin,” I push him against the wall, “You know better than to let Jimin rile you up like this.”

Those plump lips of his pout dramatically as he whines, “But, (y/n)…”

“But nothing,” I say and then whirl around to face the other boy. He’s still standing where I left him with his eyes glued to the pair of us. “Jimin,” I hold his gaze, “You’re going to watch. You’re not going to touch yourself, your hyung isn’t going to touch you, and I’m not going to touch you.”

His eyes widen comically, “No! That’s not fair!”

“Do you want to be gagged, too, baby boy?” I ask, cocking my head slightly. Seeing his emphatic head shakes, I grin. “That’s what I thought. Now, stay.”

Turning back to Jin, I smirk slightly as I ask, “Punishment now or later?”

Seokjin’s eyes scrunch cutely in confusion, “What?”

“You see,” I move closer to him, my body brushes his, “I think you earned a punishment, but I think you also earned helping me punish Jimin.”

A wide grin crosses Jin’s face as he glances back at the corner Jimin is stewing in. “I would be honored to help you punish him, babe.”

“That’s what I figured,” I smile briefly at him before slowly sliding my hands up his chest to rest on the nape of his neck. Holding them there, I press the lightest of kisses to the corner of his lips.

Jin’s breath hitches in his throat.

I run my tongue against the seam of his mouth, taking my time and savoring the sweet taste of him. His lips part to let me in, my tongue sliding across his. I grind against him as we kiss, moving my hips in such a way that makes him groan and lean back harder against the wall.

“What the fuck is going on in here?”

Ripping my mouth from Jin’s, I turn to face the newcomer.

Namjoon stands in the doorway holding yet another cup of coffee, his face thunderous. "What do the three of you think you're doing? This is the goddamn library, you heathens!”

Seokjin jumps out of his skin in fright, pushing me away faster than I can anticipate. Stumbling back, I crash into Jimin – who apparently had ventured out of his assigned corner. Brat.

“The shades were open!” Namjoon continues to rant as he flicks the aforementioned item down to cover the door’s window, “Did you want people to see you?”

He reads the expression on my face correctly, “Oh, but you did, didn’t you, (y/n)?” Namjoon approaches where I’m still captured in Jimin’s embrace. Glaring down at me, he taunts, “So quick to stake your claim; but, make no mistake, they were mine first.”

Shaking out of Jimin’s hold, I straighten, raising my chin to meet Namjoon’s gaze full-on, “That’s interesting. I didn’t realize you were so lenient with your partners.”

Jimin makes a choking noise behind me. Jin stands behind Namjoon, waving a hand in front of his throat to clearly tell me to stop talking. I keep going, “Perhaps I need to teach you how to discipline.”

Namjoon flips me around, shoves Jimin out of the way, and bends me facedown across the table.

“Jin,” He says, his voice growly, “Stand in the hall and let me know if you can hear us.”

The sound of the door opening and closing alerts me that Jin followed Namjoon’s instructions without a word.

“Jimin,” He continues, “Hold (y/n)’s hands out in front of her.” Jimin ascquieces, staring apologetically down at me as he tugs my hands towards him.

“This is cute,” I say, “I always love holding Jimin-ie’s hands.”

Thwack. The stinging imprint of Namjoon’s palm on my ass burns deliciously. I arch my back, looking over my shoulder at him with a half-smile. “Do it harder, daddy.”

A breath sucks in between his lips as I utter the word I know will get him feeling as hot as me. “You’re playing a dangerous game, baby girl,” Namjoon grits out, his jaw clenched tightly.

“Oh, daddy,” I say, “Don’t you remember? I’m the fucking Queen.”

“Was that a chess pun? Nice.” A muffled voice followed by a squeaky laugh sounds through the door.

“Seokjin,” Namjoon seethes, flying over to open the door and drag the older boy back inside, “I thought I told you to let me know if you could hear us.”

I tug out of Jimin’s gentle hold, straighten back up, and then situate myself into a sitting position on the table.

I watch amusedly as Jin shimmies his way out of Joon’s grasp, “Yah! It’s not my fault I get intense FOMO. Don’t hate the player, hate the game. Besides, I only heard you because I had my ear pressed to the door.”

Jimin stifles a giggle. I let out a full-on laugh. Namjoon mumbles what sounds like a plea to some higher power under his breath.

“See what I have to deal with?” Namjoon turns to me, shaking his head. “Are you sure you want to sign up for this?”

“That depends,” I swing my legs back and forth as I stay perched on the table, “Are you going to keep spanking me?”

The boy who had just unhesitatingly bent me over to punish me now blushes and rubs the back of his neck. “I mean, probably? You have quite a mouth on you, baby.”

Hopping off the table, I laugh, “Good answer. Ten points to Gryffindor.”

“Woo!” Jin cheers, “Nice job on the House Points, Joon-ie!”

“I am in love with idiots,” Jimin sighs.

Grabbing my phone from my backpack, I let out a slight yell as I read the time. “Shit, shit, shit, shit!” I scramble to shove all of my textbooks back into my bag.

“What is it, noona?” Jimin worries, appearing next to me. “Are you late for class?”

“No,” I cry, “It’s so much worse. I’m late for my weekly Animal Crossing discord chat! Heath is gonna kill me…”

“Heath?” Jin scowls, “Who is this Heath you speak of?”

“Chill, fam,” I shrug my backpack onto my shoulders and stare contemplatively down at the three different coffees. “You can’t get jealous every time I mention a new person. What’s next? You’re gonna come for Tom Nook?”

Namjoon - who must play Animal Crossing - stifles a laugh as Jin pouts. “She has a point, Jin.”

“And so does a pencil. Big whoop,” Jin scowls with his arms folded.

“Aw, Seokjin-ie,” I coo, reaching over to pinch his cheek, “Don’t be mad. You’ll get to spend all day with me on Saturday after volunteering! What are we doing, anyways?” I level Joon with my best side-eye as I ask that question, knowing he is more likely than not the mastermind behind our planned date.

“It’s going to be great, noona!” Jimin pipes up, hugging me from the side, “You’re going to love it…You’re going to love us.” He murmurs the last part, probably not meaning for me to hear; but, I do.

God, I do.

“We’ll pick you up before volunteering,” Joon says, “Just bring yourself and a change of clothes.”

“What?” I decide - fuck it - and attempt to grab all three coffees, “No overnight bag?”

Jin, who had just taken a sip of his own coffee, spews it everywhere. “Pack one,” He gasps out in between coughs.

Laughing, I walk to the door, which Jimin kindly opens for me. “Okay, I’ll think about it. Ah, I’m so late. Jimin and Jin, I’ll punish you at a later time. Joon, you can try to punish me at a later time.” Living for their astonished expressions, I wave as best I can with three coffees in hand, “Bye, babes! Text me-e-e.”

As I make my way out of the library, it hits me that I only have one more day to prepare for this date. Fucking hell…

a/n: this is such a filler of a chap with a tinge of drama mixed in, hehe. the next one is gonna be that date tho uwu stay tuuuuuuned and thanks 4 reading

taglist: @catsandstrawberries @h5naaa @meowmeowyoongles @leftflowerprunedonut @rjsmochii @athletes-of-god @karissassirak @cage7241 @weallhavesecretsinthebestway @cvbachacbitch @honeyspillings @valiantcollectorofsandwiches @fivesecondsofsarang @oii-f-eli-x2 @joonsroses @theevilyouknow @jooniescupcakes @expensive-grl @i-dont-even-know-fck @doingmybestalltheftime @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh @laced-brds @breeeeh17 @lpayne612 @peachyharmoney @rilakoya @chulchuchi @tabula-rasa0 @guccishookv @nomimits7 @i-like-puppy-mg @s-noir @anna-sorel @im-a-space-child @yeontanismypresident @drowning-in-oxygen @team-wang-puppy @lvvegood @anongirl007 @may114 @r-e-d-i-s-h @unatempesta-dipensieri @dragon-rider-with-a-book @blueberrygeniejam @wondrsblog @vi-hoshi @kirbykook @katemwatson @kawaiikpoplover268 @amsteramyy @sami4life @a-feeling-of-euphoria @the-jackals @bubbletae7 @platinum-grenade @bunnyboyenthusiast @brightly-byun @oofmeintheheadpls @sadboibts @lidda @goldenwidow3 @t-mel19 @lmkjimin @psiphidragon @jeon-joker @sathom013 @lustremyg @ggsmashgg @justyouraveragerando @shadowstark @our-little-meow-meow @baby-hobii @toddsgirl27 @mythicalmeep @asifetch7 @kassandravictoria @eltrain80 @briannasthings @bumblekey93 @ohmwreckr @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @softchimmee @kookoo-kachoo @lenuminous @ass-hole-in-one @peaches-422 @spacejooon @sleepyje0n @uxwi @tellmeyoulovemepls @yady24 @lovesick-heart0 @redirect-min @hopetookourvibe @noonaduck @mini-coop25 @multifandomgirl29 @rhd31 @yoongixvevo @sweetnspicy93 @kuppyjiminie @love-and-other-possibilities @fuckyouandtheboatyoucamein @rvnchr4nd4 @geminidrawsstuff @livorna @naajix @minjoonhome

another a/n: if u asked to be added to the taglist and u did not get tagged, u might be one of the couple ppl that i couldn’t tag [check ur settings, fam!]

#bangtanhq #ficswithluv #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #hyunglinenetwork #180knet #kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #bts #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts series #kings of campus

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tigerkirby215 · 4 years ago

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5e Olaf, the Beserker build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Phroilan Gardner. Made for Riot Games.)

youtube

Olaf sounds like ProZD’s Archibald voice. Especially Olaf’s voice lines for using his Q it sounds exactly like ProZD’s “Huah! I think that enemy got the point!” Like I’m not crazy right? Please tell me I’m not the only one who hears this.

Anyways Olaf has been on my To Do List ever since I realized that I haven’t made a single champion whose name starts with the letter O. My desire to make Olaf was only further accentuated by the Sentinels of Light event, even if his inclusion in that event could best be summed up with...

But I won’t ignore Olaf just because the Sentinels of Light event was a flop. He’s still a compelling character that I have actually gotten some requests to make. After all: the dual-axe wielding Barbarian is an iconic image!

I mean, Olaf is probably just going to be 20 levels in Beserker Barbarian so I don’t know why you need me to make a build for that.

GOALS

C'mon, I won't hurt you - We’ll need ways to heal when we harm in the middle of combat.

Death by steel! - Swing axe, throw axe; unga bunga me play Olaf.

The might of Lokfar approaches - I didn’t manage to do so with Mundo but Olaf is going to need to have CC immunity.

RACE

Olaf is a human; feel free to pick a different race like Goliath or even Custom Lineage to justify him being Iceborn but Variant Human is still the best option. Increase your Strength by 1 as well as your Constitution, grab any skill proficiency of your choice as it honestly doesn’t matter much for Olaf (maybe you should’ve been Custom Lineage for Darkvision after all?), and the Primordial language because I’m sure you picked up on the language of the wild.

For your feat you have a choice: Dual Wielder will let you wield two d8 Battleaxes (instead of d6 Handaxes) and also increase your AC by 1 while dual-wielding, but the Fighting Initiate feat will let you grab Two-Weapon Fighting which will let you add your Strength modifier to your second axe’s swing. I persually opted for Dual Wielder as it gives you more benefits overall, and we’ll be getting ways to throw axes without having to hold onto them first.

ABILITY SCORES

15; STRENGTH - I mean, you’re a shirtless Barbarian running around with two axes. You thought this would be a DEX build?

14; CONSTITUTION - The reason you can’t die is because you’re so hardy. Sucks!

13; CHARISMA - Despite Riot’s great attempts at writing you as poorly as possible you do still have some sort of Charisma. Remember that Charisma is force of personality, not necessarily good looks or personal hygiene. Charisma is needed for Intimidation as well as multiclassing.

12; DEXTERITY - You need to be quick on your feet to run at your enemies with reckless abandon.

10; WISDOM - If you were wise you wouldn’t be trying to kill yourself.

8; INTELLIGENCE - You stopped caring about education the moment you were born. Battle is the only thing in your blood!

This build is also quite viable with Point Buy, going for a stat array like 15 / 12 / 14 / 8 / 8 / 14 if you want lower mental stats but higher combat stats.

BACKGROUND

The Uthgardt Tribe Member background from the Sword Coast Adventurer’s Guide is basically the Outlander background but you actually belonged to Freljordian society once. Regardless you do get proficiency in Athletics as well as Survival (”Survival” as in finding food to eat, not as in keeping safe on the battlefield!), a musical instrument or artisan’s tool of your choice (choose whatever you fancy and make your own Olaf, as long as it’s something a warrior would do! I personally opted for Smith’s Tools to sharpen your axes), and a language of your choice (pick whatever language they spoke back in the villages.)

Your background Uthgardt Heritage is the Outlander’s Wanderer feature with extra steps: along with being able to find food and water you are also treated well by nomads and wanderers who have heard of your glorious battles!

(Artwork by Marie Magny and West Studios. Made for Riot Games.)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - BARBARIAN 1

Starting off as a Barbarian because what else would we be? You get proficiency in two skills from the Barbarian list: Intimidation is an obvious must and Perception will help you find good fights to take!

As a Barbarian you get Unarmored Defense equal to your Dexterity plus your Constitution, which is currently a 13... Well Medium Armor is an option if you want to finally put on a shirt. And of course as a Barbarian you can Rage to deal more damage and resist incoming damage! You can’t cast spells while Raging, but that won’t matter, right? It’s not like I’m about to give you caster levels.

LEVEL 2 - FIGHTER 1

Quickly hopping over to Fighter to further your martial skills. You can grab a Fighting Style like Thrown Weapon Fighting to draw weapons in the same action you make to throw them, and also do +2 damage with thrown weapon attacks. See? Told you we’d be able to throw axes easily!

You also get Second Wind for some not-quite-Lifesteal to keep you in the fight to claim even more glory! Certainly not to stay alive.

LEVEL 3 - FIGHTER 2

Well another Fighter level for Action Surge is certainly worth it, as you can push yourself to destroy your foes!

LEVEL 4 - FIGHTER 3

But we need one more Fighter level to be able to get our axes back after we throw them. Eldritch Knights get Weapon Bond, allowing them to always keep two weapons on hand and never lose them. While bonded with a weapon you can’t be disarmed of them, and you can use a Bonus Action to recall a weapon if it’s not in your hands. My suggestion would be to bond to a Battleaxe and a Handaxe, so you can’t be disarmed of at least one of your main weapons and can also call your thrown axe back to throw it again!

You also get Spellcasting as an Eldritch Knight: You learn two cantrips from the Wizard list, and three spells as well. You may be thinking “wait; didn’t you dump Intelligence?” That is correct, but you don’t need Intelligence to cast Light to see with your dumb human eyes (I mean technically you need Intelligence if you want to cast Light on someone else but it’s probably easier just to light up your axe and throw it at them) or Prestidigitation, which is a better spell for creating bonfires than the actual Create Bonfire spell.

Your leveled spells have to be from either the Evocation or Abjuration schools, but thankfully Absorb Elements and Shield are both from the Abjuration school and also don’t need Intelligence. Protect yourself from damage to have a truly glorious death! Because it’s not like blocking attacks will keep you alive.

You can also learn one spell from any school and uhhhh... Pick your poison between Jump and Longstrider, to make it easier to chase your foes. Are there probably better spells? Yeah, but do they fit Olaf?

(Artwork by Xiao Guang Sun and West Studios. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 5 - PALADIN 1

Jumping over to Paladin for a few abilities, such as Divine Sense to find some things that will put up a good fight like Fiends, Undead, or... Celestials? I’m sure they hit hard! You can also find a good desecrated (or consecrated) battleground with this ability, as I’m sure there will be good enemies there! You only know of an enemy’s type however, not their name. And if they’re hiding from you this ability won’t make it any easier to find them.

You also get Lay on Hands, which is like lifesteal you can give to allies! You have a pool of hit points equal to your Paladin level times 5, and you can use it to either heal (at a rate of 1 point per hitpoint) or neutralize a poison or disease affecting a target. (5 Lay on Hands health to neutralize one poison or disease.) Dying to natural causes isn’t a glorious death, brother!

LEVEL 6 - PALADIN 2

We’ll also need second level in Paladin to get a Fighting Style, but since Wizards of the Coast hates fun you can’t can’t take Two-Weapon Fighting, and since we’re running around in our birthday suit Defense also isn’t an option. The best official Fighting Style you can take is Blind Fighting (Blessed Warrior is okay too if you want Guidance I guess) but talk to your DM about potentially letting you take Two-Weapon Fighting? It’s not like it’s OP or anything (in all honesty it’s kinda shit.)

Paladins also get... more Spellcasting?! Disgusting! Well this spellcasting is based on your Charisma modifier instead of your Intelligence, which might be why we have it at a 14. But even so you can’t prepare that many spells: Divine Favor will let you empower all your attacks with more damage for some Vicious Strikes, Cure Wounds will again be acting as life-not-quite-steal, and Shield of Faith will let you or an ally absorb more blows, not that you want to live or anything. Also remember to check the Player’s Handbook to see how many spell slots you’d have after mixing two casters together.

But I still think the best course of action for your spell slots is to use them for Divine Smite! Throw caution and magic to the wind to make a Reckless Swing that does extra Radiant damage (depending on the level of the spell slot used.) The Smite deals 2d8 of damage for a first level slot, and an additional d8 of damage for every slot above first. (The simple way to remember this is that you roll a number of d8s equal to the spell slot used plus one.) If the enemy is a Fiend or Undead the damage increases by a d8! The maximum level spell slot you can use for this is a 4th level slot (for 5d8 damage, or 6d8 against a Fiend or Undead), but I doubt we’ll get spell slots that big.

LEVEL 7 - PALADIN 3

We may as well take a third level in Paladin for a Sacred Oath, and you swore an Oath of Glory in battle! Along with Guiding Bolt and Heroism being added to your spell list (as if you can cast spells lmao) you get two Channel Divinity options: Peerless Athlete turns you into... well, a Peerless Athlete with advantage on Athletics and Acrobatics checks. You can also carry, push, drag, and lift twice as much weight as normal, and to top it off the distance of your long and high jumps increases by 10 feet. This boost lasts for 10 minutes which should be more than enough to give it your all in battle!

Alternatively for some more not-quite-lifesteal Inspiring Smite can be activated after you Smite to give yourself or nearby allies within 30 feet temporary hitpoints. The total number of temporary hit points gained by this ability equals 2d8 + your Paladin level, and you can distribute them amongst yourself and your allies however you wish. Technically the most gameplay-accurate way to split the Temp HP would be to take it all yourself but being helpful has its benefits. A battle is truly glorious if fought alongside an army of companions!

You also get Divine Health, because Glory doesn’t die on sick days!

LEVEL 8 - PALADIN 4

It’s about time to take that 4th Paladin level to finally get an Ability Score Improvement: +2 to Strength for stronger axe swings is an obvious choice!

You can also prepare another spell like Bless, which will make it easier for you and your allies to smite your foes and survive their blows! Wait, what was that about surviving?

(Artwork made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 9 - PALADIN 5

Since it’s so close we may as well take the 5th level of Paladin so you can finally make an Extra Attack. That means you have two attacks normally and a third attack with your Bonus Action thanks to Two-Weapon Fighting!

You can also prepare second level Paladin spells now, and the Oath of Glory gives you Enhance Ability and Magic Weapon as spells you can cast. Believe it or not these are actually useful, even with your low spellcasting modifier!

LEVEL 10 - PALADIN 6

The 6th level of Paladin is honestly too good to pass up: even though Aura of Protection is only adding +2 to all your saving throws (since your Charisma is kinda uhhh... not good?) that’s still +2 to all your saves, as well as the saves of your allies within 10 feet. That’s like, two whole Rings of Protection!

Speaking of rings: Warding Bond was added to the Paladin spell list thanks to Tasha’s and it’ll let you take damage for your allies to die in their place! As long as you don’t mind wearing some platnium rings in your beard, at least.

LEVEL 11 - PALADIN 7

What we’re really here for is the 7th level of Glory Paladin. Aura of Alacrity will increase the speed of you and your allies within 5 feet (not 10, because Wizards of the Coast are weird) by 10 feet, so you can charge at your foes with the might of Ragnarok!

LEVEL 12 - PALADIN 8

But we may as well take the 8th level of Paladin for another Ability Score Improvement: cap off your Strength for the deadliest strikes possible.

You can also prepare another spell but it would be wise to wait for...

(Artwork by JoJo So. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 13 - PALADIN 9

9th level Paladins can prepare third level spells like Crusader’s Mantle to give all your nearby allies the Divine Favor buff to rush into battle with you! But the main reason we’re dipping this deep into Paladin is for the two spells from the Oath of Glory: Protection from Energy perhaps isn’t all that fitting, but Haste is insanely useful and powerful. More attacks, more speed, more... armor? Well, it’s no matter. More glorious battle!

LEVEL 14 - PALADIN 10

10th level Paladins won’t be swayed by magic swaying their hearts! Aura of Courage will let you (and your allies within 10 feet) laugh in the face of death as you gain immunity to the Frightened condition!

You can also prepare another spell like Aura of Vitality: you can use it to heal yourself but healing your allies will lead to a far more glorious story to tell of your death.

LEVEL 15 - PALADIN 11

I promise that we’ll go back to Barbarian levels soon but 11th level Paladins get a huge boost to their damage output thanks to Improved Divine Smite. This ability affects all your attacks (not just your Smites despite the name) to give them an extra d8 of Radiant damage. This has obvious synergy with your choice to swing two axes since your Two-Weapon Fighting attack will also get that extra d8 of damage!

LEVEL 16 - PALADIN 12

Okay but let’s quickly grab the 12th level of Paladin first. You can either increase your Constitution for more health and AC, or your Charisma for better saving throws and spellcasting. I personally opted for Charisma but if you value health and AC then Constitution is good too!

Oh and yeah you can prepare more spells, but there aren’t really that many other third level spells I want.

(Artwork by Alvin Lee. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 17 - PALADIN 13

That’s because 13th level Paladins finally get 4th spells which most importantly means Freedom of Movement! There you go you finally have Ragnarok’s CC immunity! You also get Compulsion which sure would be a good spell if you had any Charisma to actually cast it.

But you can also prepare more spells like Aura of Purity so you and your allies can shrug off whatever your foes might throw at you to stop you from reaching them, or Death Ward which you ABSOLUTELY WILL NOT USE ON YOURSELF.

LEVEL 18 - PALADIN 14

Okay but the 14th level of Paladin gives you Cleansing Touch, letting you cleanse spells without spell slots to cast Freedom of Movement. You can use this feature a number of times equal to your Charisma modifier and regain all expended uses at the end of a Long Rest.

You could also perhaps prepare another spell like... Aid? I don’t know really by this point the magic is secondary. We’ll be going back to Barbarian soon anyways.

LEVEL 19 - PALADIN 15

But 15th level Glory Paladins get Glorious Defense, and we can’t pass that up! When you or another creature you can see (technically an enemy if you so desire!) within 10 feet of you is hit by an attack roll, you can use your reaction to grant a bonus to the target’s AC against that attack equal to your Charisma modifier. If the attack misses you can make one weapon attack against the attacker as part of this reaction, provided the attacker is within your weapon’s range. You can do this a number of times equal to your Charisma modifier, and regain all uses at the end of a Long Rest.

LEVEL 20 - PALADIN 16

But since it’s so close one final level in Paladin would be good for one final ASI: again more Constitution means more health and AC, but more Charisma will boost all your Paladin abilities!

Speaking of Paladin abilities you can prepare one more spell before we start taking more Barbarian levels... honestly you can pick your poison as it won’t matter much when your Raging!

...Wait.

WHY NO BARBARIAN LEVELS?

There’s a lot of things that I can’t do as a Barbarian. The most notable option that would be restricted if I went pure Barbarian would be Freedom of Movement, and while crowd control is somewhat rare in D&D being able to ignore it is far more important to Olaf as a character.

There’s also no Barbarian that has lifesteal besides Path of the Beast, and the only Barbarian that can throw its axe easily is Path of Wild Magic. Obviously neither of these fit Olaf.

Ultimately Paladin gave us more of Olaf’s abilities. The only ability that Barbarians have which fit Olaf other than Unarmored Defense and I guess Unarmored Movement would be Feral Instinct. But even the Barbarian subclasses don’t fit Olaf with the only ones which make any sense being maybe Totem Warrior? (Despite Olaf’s title Berserker wouldn’t fit him well, mostly because Berserker is a bad subclass.) But we miss out on so many of Olaf’s actual abilities by making him a Barbarian.

tl;dr Barbarians can’t do magic and Olaf has a ton of abilities that can only be recreated in D&D with magic

FINAL BUILD

PROS

Urge to kill rising... - Two-Weapon Fighting really doesn’t get the respect it deserves by the D&D community. You wouldn’t be able to get three attacks as a level 11 Paladin in any other way, meaning that you can truly capitalize on Improved Divine Smite. Not to mention the general increased DPS of 3 attacks and 3 chances to Smite!

Faster to battle! - It was not my intention but Glory Paladins are surprisingly good team players with a variety of spells and abilities that can keep your team alive and increase their strength in battle.

Obliteration! - You’re fairly hard to kill... oops. But between decently high health, spells to defend yourself, and damn high saving throws no matter how you increase your Charisma you’ll be quite a challenge to eventually take down! Sure your AC might suck... we should probably talk about that.

CONS

The worth of a man can be measured by the length of his beard, and the girth of his belt buckle - Hey remember that one Barbarian level I took pretty much entirely so you could have Unarmored Defense? Yeah honestly it’s gimping you hard, to the point that even Mage Armor would give you more AC. Honestly playing this build as Fighter 4 / Paladin 16 would be far better as you’d get one more ASI at the cost of actually having to wear armor. Hell going full Paladin 20 would give you the Living Legend capstone which is crazy strong, and while the loss of Action Surge would hurt you can grab the Thrown Weapon Fighting Style with a feat. (Or just take Two-Weapon Fighting style with your Variant Human Feat and run around with Hand Axes.)

If you’re really dead-set on going unarmored beg your DM for a Barrier Tattoo: either a Rare one (you’ll still need 14 DEX for something something legally-not-Medium Armor) or a Very Rare one (so you don’t even have to worry about Dexterity.) You can even go the Tahm Kench route and grab Eldritch Adept for Disguise Self to look unarmored if it’s really that important to you.

Well that was a pretty long con to say “Barbarian Olaf bad.” What else is there?

Chop chop! - Who would’ve guessed that dumping both mental stats would make you a dummy? While Aura of Protection saves you to some extent the party won’t be turning to you for any History checks.

Finally, some fun! - You have a rather silly amount of spells relative to your spell slots, and a good number of them are Concentration as well. Throwing all your slots to the wind to Divine Smite with reckless abandon sounds fun but managing both your Concentration and your spell slots will take some effort.

But your choice to go in without armor is just a self-handicap after all: you really want to die, and prove yourself in death! Fight the toughest fights and take down the strongest foes until you finally prove your prophecy wrong and fall before the blade of the mightiest foe! But perhaps you should instead sit down and have a muffin, and think about why you truly want to die die die.

(Artwork made for Riot Games.)

#dnd #dnd 5e #dnd build #dnd guide #dnd barbarian #definitely a Barbarian #not any other class #dnd paladin #League of Legends #League of Legends Olaf #Sentinels of Light #was bad #As if on cue Olaf releases gas from every bodily orifice #Youtube

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libermachinae · 4 years ago

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Fault Lines Under the Living Room

Part III: Watch - Chapter 8: Registered Purple

Also available on AO3 Chapter Summary: Drift thinks he has the situation on Vitrious handled when he receives unexpected support. Chapter Word Count: 3134

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Wing had taught him a mantra.

Many mantras, in fact, a few glyphs composed to hold him to the path of redemption and humility, charity and strength. Most he had deleted moments after being taught, having witnessed by then the intangible, transient nature of words, but this one he’d kept. He had never recited Wing’s version in full, his bastardization of the lines one of the few acts of rebellion he could get away with, but like most of the training he had received in Crystal City, he had discarded the substance and retained the structure.

In the years since, he had modified it as his circumstances changed and his path wound out of sight. Its recitation had proven one successful method to ground himself, so he focused now on the words, the shape of the glyphs against his thoughts.

My name is Drift.

He dodged behind a pillar as the spot he had been standing on exploded, a hail of blasterfire igniting the organic soil in his wake. The shots followed him, peppering his defenses, and he knew he had only a moment before the porous material gave way.

I’m not an Autobot.

He ducked, rolled, and unfurled into a sprint out the other side. Grit’s crew hesitated, their aim swinging wide before locking onto their target, giving him enough time to dive behind a larger building, a step closer to the cliff wall the city backed into. A lucky shot clipped his shoulder pauldron, sending him stumbling, but he was back behind cover before they could follow it up with a more decisive blow.

I’m not a Decepticon, either.

He pressed his back to the wall and waited for the barrage to let up. Rogue Decepticons tended to go heavy on ammo and light on fuel and medical supplies, but even Deathsaurus’ storage capacity was limited, and these runaways had nothing on that mammoth. The shots eventually petered out, replaced by footsteps.

“That’s it? You think you can just sabotage my operation and run?”

Drift’s spark burned at the reminder of Grit’s business on this planet: non-aligned organic labor procurement. Slave trade. They did not deserve their Deceptibrands, to count themselves among a movement that had fought for freedom. It was an effort to remind himself that he had already been stripped of his badge and was no longer obligated to defend it, and further effort to convince himself, again, that the symbol no longer represented the ideals he had sworn himself to. The people of Vitrious, they were the ones who needed his anger right now. Not a long-dead dream.

He braced his hands against the ground.

What I am is in trouble.

Drift sprung as the muzzle of a pistol appeared around the corner. Pushing off, he lobbed himself over the wall, onto the roof. Two strides and he landed on the other side, crouching to absorb the impact. He was up and sprinting again before Grit could register which way he had gone.

He was looking for an opportunity to catch one on their own, but the trio stuck together and moved as a unit. Hoping he might force them to spread out, Drift jumped for a narrow ledge, sacrificing a moment of vulnerability for the sake of speed. From his new vantage point, he spotted the pier. He considered it, adjusting his plans.

I’m also—

His thoughts were cut short by the roar of a shuttle’s engine.

Drift leapt from the wall and landed back on the rubble strewn street. Not as maneuverable, but like Pit he was going to stay up top to be fried by Grit’s reinforcements. Or the Galactic Council executive force, come to cleanse this system of its Cybertronian problem. He kept moving with his head down, not wasting the seconds it would have taken to look up and confirm. Either presence meant things were about to get complicated.

He stole into an alley just as heavy artillery formed the percussion over the engine’s bass with the Decepticons on vocals, the onslaught driving them to panicked shouting. Galactic Council, then, Drift reasoned. Decepticons gave each other a chance to posture before they started blasting.

Drift’s opinion on the Galactic Council was complicated. He trusted their judiciary system, insofar as he doubted there was anything better. Certainly not where his own kind was concerned. Cybertronians had failed at holding each other accountable for their crimes, given that judge, jury, and prosecution tended to be guilty of actions one step removed from those of the defendant. Their shared history had resulted in societal biases, and while Bumblebee and his enemies might have been trying to reestablish their sense of justice to one another, there yet remained a galaxy of people who did not have the luxury to wait for Cybertronians to realize they were incapable of convicting themselves. The victims of their atrocities deserved control over their justice, and the Galactic Council courts had structures and precedent to provide it.

Galactic Council defense squads operated on a precedent of eliminating Cybertronian threats at any cost. Its structures included battle cruisers, drone swarms, and mobile tactical arrays. They were not lawless entities, but they had been granted all necessary privileges to apprehend those who were, and had, in Drift’s opinion, become that which they had been commissioned to destroy. A single recon squad versus a handful of desperate rogue Decepticons could level a minor metropolitan neighborhood, and most of their standoffs occurred in locations with significantly less infrastructure than that. Drift never called the Council before all combat capable Cybertronians were subdued and removed from vulnerable areas, because otherwise it almost always ended up like the nightmare scenario he was now racing toward.

His priority trees reoriented: he had to get the fight out of the city. He remapped his route and updated acrobatic and combat protocols, shifting stealth to standby. His plating flared out to catch the sun as his pauldrons relaxed, swaying with each step to create a blinking effect. He revved his engine and pushed it into a lower gear, opting for more power, and drew his swords, using them to add volume to his movements as he jumped and spun, landing mid-stride on a roof.

That his optics registered purple when he looked up did not disrupt his momentum and only barely adjusted his plans. A rival group, here for their share of the cube, would be less likely to kill potential merchandise but have no qualms about murdering Grit before the Retins could serve their own justice.

Drift charged forward, up onto a ledge and then across, rooftop to rooftop. The newcomers were staying high and playing cautious, likely because their ship was more transport shuttle than combat vehicle. Offensive capabilities amounted to a single turret lowered from the underside of the ship, but the rapid-fire machine gun was much more intimidating than Grit’s shotgun and his team’s pistols. They were returning fire, but their shots angled wide or fizzled out before they breached the hull, the few that left a pockmark of warped metal the only reason Drift’s acrobatic leaps had yet to gain him any attention.

He got a foothold in the battered outer wall of a tower and launched himself up, arm outstretched. He caught a ledge and propelled himself further, calculating his trajectory in the split seconds he spent with hand or pede on the wall. Up, higher, he flung himself, until he was brushing the sky with his fingertips, brought high by the weight of his frame.

With one final leap, he reached the peak.

From here, the shuttle was still above him, but close enough that he could have seen into the cockpit, had he the time to adjust his lenses that much. Instead, he bent to one knee and retrieved a throwing knife from his lower leg. He pulled his arm back, lining up a shot at the central forward end of the viewshield, approximately where he remembered the pilot’s seat to be. He doubted it would penetrate, but maybe the noise would—

His comm buzzed.

He startled, losing his aim, at the assault of static from a component that had gone too long without use. It was not white noise, though: it peaked and valleyed, following the pattern of speech, until the sound coalesced into recognizable syllables, spoken by a familiar voice.

“Drift, it’s us.”

He almost dropped his knife.

“Ratchet?!”

“And Rodimus,” Ratchet said. “He wants me to say hi. He’d do it himself, but he’s focused on those guys that were giving you trouble.”

“Stop shooting!” There would be explanations later; he had come up here with a purpose, and despite his brief shock, he had not forgotten it. “The Retins are still down there.”

“Got it.”

The turret stopped firing, though it remained engaged and ready, staring down at Grit where he and his crew had been backed into a corner. Their shouting turn to celebratory whoops, assuming their enemies had run out of ammo, and their own assault gained a new vigor as they pressed their assumed advantage.

“No guns,” Rodimus agreed as he joined the channel. “What do we do about them?”

“I’m taking care of it,.” Drift stooped to slot his knife back in, using the familiar motion to calm his scrambled thoughts.

“How do we help?” Ratchet asked.

“By staying out of the way.” He stood and jumped, scaling down the tower pede over hand a fraction faster than he had ascended it. He landed in a roll on the ground, stealth programs back online, and made his way in the direction of Grit’s shouting. There was more rubble the closer he came to the center of town, chunks of walls that had been blown out and shards of glass, and he focused on keeping his movements light and quick, hard to trace as he came closer to listening audials.

“Decepticon ship, fragging answer me,” Grit demanded from around a corner. Drift stilled; he stalled his fans and dropped his engine. “You have some nerve, showing up here without an ident. Who do you think you’re gonna fool, a colorblind Autobot?”

“50 shanix that jerk is dead,” one of the others said. They had stopped shooting.

“What’s the point?” the third asked. “You saw him jumping all over the place like a flashy piece of target practice. I could’ve blasted him myself with my aiming module offline.”

“Just not with your blaster fully loaded, huh?”

“Screw stripper, you weren’t any better.”

“Decepticon shuttle, this is Grit of Polyhex. You’d better answer, or we’ll blast you out of—”

Drift whipped around the corner with an elbow aimed at the back of Grit’s head, where he should have found the exposed juncture between spinal strut and helm. Instead, he hit solid armor, and though Grit stumbled forward a couple steps it was nowhere near the complete freeze Drift had been banking on. He started to reach for a gun, so Drift knocked it away, then danced back as the others realized what was happening and started shooting.

Drift was back where he had started, in close quarters and surrounded. He cursed himself for not realizing how thick Grit’s plating would be while he dodged the incoming fire. He leaned to the side as he hopped out of the way, then back twice and behind a wall. They were following fast, though, he only had a couple seconds to—

“Incoming,” Ratchet warned, before the gunshot.

Drift looked up and saw the shuttle had descended, its hatch lowered with a familiar, flame-like beacon spilling out. Rodimus kneeled at the edge, an oversized Earth rifle perched on his shoulder.

He fired again, the gunshot accompanied this time by the sound of a solid matter bullet hitting plating. Drift peeked around just in time to see one of Grit’s grunts topple over backward with a dent in the front of his helm. Rodimus’ weapon didn’t puncture armor, but it packed enough power to put a bot in stasis.

“Got ‘im!” Rodimus shouted.

It was also concentrated enough to minimize the risk of collateral.

Drift sprung over his cover to the other Decepticon, who had just enough time to shout, “Hey, that’s an Auto—” before a sharp blow with the heel of his hand knocked him back. The Con automatically reached up to his face and Drift took the opportunity to sweep his legs out from under him, ending with a firm kick to the helm that put him out as well.

Grit was alone, swinging his gun between two targets. Drift withdrew his sword as he stepped forward, mindful of the gun but not scared of it.

“Should I shoot him?” Rodimus asked. Drift held up his hand, wait.

“That was a scummy trick,” Grit growled, finger starting to squeeze around the trigger.

Drift moved. Grit fired and he felt the plasma burn the air past his audial, but then he was in front of his assailant, sword pressed to the fuel lines in his neck.

“This was barely a trick,” he said. “Now, enslaving people? That seems pretty ‘scummy’ to me.”

Grit glared at him, optics fritzing. He glanced at the sword, then the gun in his hand.

“You should drop it!” Rodimus called down. “Drift takes things like disarming literally!”

Grit glanced at Rodimus, realized his mistake, and looked back at Drift. Miraculously, his lapse in judgment did not result in getting his head cut off, and that realization seemed to be what forced him to stand down. His optics settled into a steady glow and he set the safety on his gun before dropping it. Drift waited for the clatter before he retrieved his cuffs and fastened them around Grit’s wrists.

“What’s the plan now?” Rodimus asked as Drift set to cuffing the other two. He was surprised the others had not dropped into the fray. Ratchet had the excuse of being confined to the cockpit, but it seemed exactly like the kind of dramatic entrance Rodimus preferred.

Something wasn’t right.

“Same as before,” Drift said. “I take these three to the authorities and we leave the citizens of Vitrious alone.”

“Want us to watch these three while you go get it?” Ratchet asked.

Drift paused snapping on the last pair of cuffs to swivel and side-eye the shuttle.

“Uh, no,” he said. “You do realize how sus that sounds, right? I've had no one but rogue Decepticons for company for," he realized he had no idea how long he'd been out here, "a while, and that’s still the second sketchiest offer I've been made.” He glanced at Rodimus, and this time zoomed in. His face was pinched, frame stiff with tension. “What’s going on?”

He was not looking for an answer, though, his processor already generating the scenario and inserting it into his queue like it was fact. It laid out the team: a back-alley medic could retune a vocalizer, a gifted outlier could copy a frame, and enough living people were owed vengeance against Deadlock to fund the venture. Well honed instincts had him standing up, hands moving to clasp the hilts of his swords.

“We’re here for you,” Rodimus said.

“Then get down here.”

Rodimus stared at Drift. He set the rifle down behind him, at the top of the hatch, but he made no move to disembark, nor did Ratchet lower them to the open street.

“Why are you here?” Drift demanded.

“It’s complicated,” Ratchet and Rodimus said simultaneously, and Drift bristled. He drew his swords and put himself in front of the prone Decepticons, senses cast outward in case this proved to be a distraction.

“Whatever business you have with me, fine, we can deal with,” he said, “but that’s personal. You’re going to leave these bots and this planet alone.”

“Fraggit, of all the lousy—we’re not here to hurt anyone, Drift,” the voice that sounded like Ratchet’s said. “Least of all you.”

The tips of Drift’s swords came up as his grip tightened.

“We need your help,” Rodimus said. “Have you ever heard of the Enigma of Combination?”

Drift’s guard did not waver, but he combed through his archives for anything relevant and was surprised when several files were flagged. Those were old memories, from well before he had joined Turmoil’s squad: a decade in which his service was turned over to Shockwave to act as a research assistant. Test subject might have been a more accurate term, but since he had been designated Subject A and assigned to pull the trigger, Deadlock had stuck around long enough to earn a more permanent title.

Shockwave never mentioned the Enigma outright. Deadlock discovered it while flipping through research materials, trying to pass the boring period between trials, a few entertaining horror stories hidden within the precise jargon. Long lost and, he had assumed, made up.

“Where did you hear about that?” Any potential impersonator could flip through a copy of the Lost Light Insider and gather he had history with Ratchet and Rodimus, but these details were top secret, and he doubted Shockwave cared enough about Subject A to send experienced hitmen after him.

“It’s an ancient artifact, from what we’ve heard,” Ratchet said. “It’s…”

“It’s weird,” Rodimus said, glancing toward the cockpit.

“We have it onboard.”

Drift sheathed his sword, though he kept his position in front of Grit.

“You didn’t—”

“It’s complicated,” they repeated.

“Frag,” Ratchet swore.

The story was outlandish and the circumstances suspect, and Drift’s logic centers were trying to work through his complex feelings even as he shoved them down. It meant something, that the latest reminder of his old life came in the form of these two bot specifically. There was a story here, and it seemed he was intended to hear it.

He glanced at the Decepticons, then back at the ship.

“There’s a clearing west of the city,” he said. “Don’t go anywhere else. I’ll meet you there.”

“Okay,” Rodimus said. “Will you be alright with those guys?”

“Yes.” He turned his back on Rodimus and finished clamping on the last set of cuffs, focusing on keeping his hands gentle while he handled the unconscious prisoner. The other was starting to stir, and Drift debated whether it would be easier to let him wake up or put him back into stasis.

“We’ll see you there, then,” Ratchet said.

They waited to leave until Drift was standing again, one body lugged over his shoulder and the other supported with an arm around his back, Grit walking out in front of them. He heard the raise, then the engines fire, and the shuttle gently peeled away from the city. Drift watched it to confirm its direction before he grunted to Grit to start moving.

“Fraggin’ Autobots,” Grit muttered. Drift was inclined to agree.

#maccadam #transformers #ratchet #rodimus #drift #dratchrod #my writing #fault lines #longfic #ghhh it took a while but we MADE IT

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sundancetarot · 4 years ago

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“Red Lights and a Suit” Kirishima x ENBY Reader // SFW COMFORT FIC

Hey Guys!! This is my first fic- I quite literally wrote it for my partner but if you want some of that comfort Kiri love, THEN COME GET YA’LL JUICE LMAOO

Description: After recieving news at school pertaining to a school dance, Kiri helps lift your spirits.

Pairing: Non-Binary reader x Eijiro Kirishima

Word Count: 2279

Includes: Loving relationship, affection, pet names, hugs, and appreciation.

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"Grab my hand and keep your eyes closed tight, I don't want the surprised spoiled!".

Hesitantly, you grab a shaken Eiji as he steers your blind eye somewhere you've never experienced but, it feels familiar... somehow, but how? Two steps turned into four, four into six, six into nine, and so on.

"Okay- one more step... watch out for the step.. another... a third- OKAY! Open.".

You want to see wants behind these hands but your brain is having trouble communicating with your bones. You're not nervous but... envious, in ways. Finally, after your self-to-self speech, your hands lower to come in contact with a foggy image of-

{BEEEEEP}

"SHIT-" That was all that could leave your lips... well, there was also FUCK, DAMN, ASS, and your personal "I've been awakened into a frightened state" favorite- CUNT!

You turn over to your phone to finally shut off the constant ringing of your most recent anime binge watch's opening credits song- not your favorite- your most recent.

After, the all too familiar urge of procrastination, you finally manage to shut off the CORRECT alarm this time. Even so, shutting off an alarm has never had many benefits besides reducing the antagonizing screech of above the volume music... however, until now, you have never been greeted by a sleeping Kirishima on your screen behind the alarm window.

That's right... we fell asleep on Facetime together.

You're not surprised that eventually, you'd have these moments- you find the idea of him next to you somewhat comforting.

His blood red-like hair falling onto his pillow has always been a pretty sight to you. His pointed teeth exposed to you, no one knows what he dreams, as he tends to forget but- the way he smiles, even in sleep... No, especially in his sleep, is behind adorable.

You could see from the angle of the phone he had his red LED lights on the highest setting, (typical, was your immediate thought), he has self-drawn art of him in his Red Riot costume with "MANLY" written in comically large lettering under, above, or to the sides of each portrait, this is too cute.

Eiji mentioned last night that he sleeps without a shirt on, he decided to give you this information the moment you started to dose off. Fortunately, waking up before him grants you the pleasure of finally witnessing his rock-hard exterior (I'm so sorry.).

{BEEEEEEEEEP}

"CUNT-" told you. Once again you mistake snooze for the off option. You pick your phone up off the carpet, after launching it several feet in the air. Luckily, your side of the facetime's audio is off and Eiji didn't hear the exaggerated explosion of sounds.

Picking your phone up off the ground which was disconnected from your charger immediately, makes your gut sink deep into your ass, your brain catches up to what you're seeing and pushes your body to practically fly into the bathroom seeing as you only have 40 minutes to get ready now.

That seems like plenty of time if you would have actually showered the night before. Rushing back into your room for your towel, you place Kiri on the sink's counter.

Starting up the shower was a difficult task when you're removing your clothes at the same time, you eventually set it to the right temperature and successfully remove your oversized hoodie with boxer briefs underneath with ease.

After washing your body, you manage to carefully launch yourself back into your room to moisturize and get dressed- you place Kiri on your dresser with a view of you after putting on your underwear.

"Well- aren't you glowing Bubbles?". That humbled cockiness in a person's tone can only come from one person and only this person can make you jump out of your skin in excitement. You turn to face him putting on his shirt because, unlike you, he takes a shower the night before to avoid a rush.

"fuc- don't scare me like that Red!". You definitely miscalculated the emotion there because that was NOT fear, it was a sentiment of emotions on how what he said made you feel inside. Nearly dropping to your knees you tighten up your composure and continue with your routine.

"Sorry babes, you do look unbelievable this morning though." Blushing was definitely out of the question, ain't nothing burning through that melanin babes. Instead, your stomach burns in butterflies as you muster up the words...

"You missed a button on your shirt, Red.". Cool, that was cool.

No, it wasn't.

You can see he wants to make another remark but you notice the new arrangement of numbers on your clock.

[7:27 AM]

Eiji notices your expressions and the faster tempo in your steps as you go from rushing to being quicker than the speed of light. As you reach the door you hear Kiri clear his throat in a way to tell you about the one thing you forgot... HIM! Nearly, slipping under your bed you grab your phone in one swift motion and bolt downstairs.

You don't have time to eat the breakfast your parents teamed up to make so you grab toast and a Capri Sun, hug your parents, pet Rubble; your St. Benard, and bolt for the door.

You hear Kiri's radio in his car blare indistinctive lyrics from his favorite genre "Rock-N-Roll" (I'm so sorry.). You finally start to make your way to school where you pass the place you and Kiri had your first date.

As you ponder the thought of the first time you ever saw him cry, the moment you saw him smile, and the day he said he's his happiest with you casts an unbreakable spell around you. A spell you would never want an antidote for.

After a handful of minutes, you pull into the parking lot across the street from the UA entrance and began the new day. You walk past your classmates greeted with the usual "Hey, Y/N!". From Shoji, "HEY KISSES!". From the always bubbly Uraraka, "Alright boo, heyyy- AH, mwah!" from your favorite person in this school (besides Red of course) Mina.

Speaking of favorite people...

"Guess who?" A pair of hands appear over your eyes and an obviously forced high pitched voice lets you know exactly who it is.

"Hmm... Koda!"

"YE- wait, huh?" Kiri stands there confused arms unraveled from you. You turn with a gigantic smirk plastered across your face, eyes slanted, with defined smile lines signifying your humorous poke at him.

"Oh- haha, laugh out loud- super manly of you." You can hear his sarcasm bursting through his lips. You quickly place your arms around his waist giving him the tightest squeeze letting him know without words how much you miss him. Almost as if without any effort, he grabs you and lifts you into the air, wrapping your legs around him you give him an even tighter hug.

This day, like most, was pretty uneventful so, you zone out... as usual. When you finally come to, you find yourself wrapped around Ojiro's tail, who doesn't mind the immense affection. After your third class period, you meet up with your friends in the cafeteria.

Like any other day, you offer to pay for Uraraka who happily accepts; even when she has enough for a meal you still insist. I mean- why not? Kiri always has your bill.

[2:38 PM]

We finally reach last period and the class president Tenya, announces the school's annual Sadie Hawkins dance. [Brief Sadie Hawkins dance explanation: A dance in a tradition where the girl asks the boy out.]

"Well- what are Y/N and Eijiro going to do?" huh.

"How is Y/N going to ask out Eijiro- they're not a girl therefore how will they find a date to go?" Stupidity graced this one early but, embarrassment graced you immediately.

You couldn't form your words properly to explain or defend, you could only leave. Eiji tries to come after you but you signal him to stay there.

"You're such a douche you know that, right?" Kiri says dropping his almost permanent grin.

"LANGUAGE!" Iida screeches while flapping his limbs completely missing his faults.

[8:13 PM]

You sit in your room foolishly stumped by Iida's uncalled for questions. It doesn't make sense, honestly, you would never let Iida's "no thoughts, just speak" way of speech get to you.

You pause your binge of "Criminal Minds" to go down to the kitchen for a quick snack when you see a bright flare of red pass by your kitchen window wrapping around to the front of your house.

Your immediate thought is that this must be a police car making its way to a crime scene- being a hero in training gave you the instinct of potential bad around every corner. So, this was not a threat nor surprise to you.

{My Red Riot❤️ one (1) new message}

You were wondering where he's been all day. You haven't spoken to him all day, you even tried texting him, and you were left on read by red (I'm sorry once again.) with no response. You are curious as to what he has to say though.

{My Red Riot❤️ : Come outside.}

I won't say I'm nervous but I am definitely confused. I make my way to the front door and take a deep breath while turning the knob...

"Hey, Bubbles." standing there in a grey suit with a red tie, red handkerchief in the left chest pocket, maroon shoes accompanied by burgundy calf socks, and a rose pinned to his suit to top it all off next to his Jeep Wrangler with modified red headlights was your Red Riot.

"We don't need a school dance to strengthen our relationship when we have each other to look at and each other to embrace- I promise to never have this become a rocky relationship..."

You chuckle at the very thought-provoking joke. "... I love you Bubbles." How could anyone be so lucky? You can feel the tears forming already as he walks towards you.

Lifting your chin up to face him he asks you one question...

"Can I kiss you?". You meet his eyes, you feel equal.

"Yes- Of course, you can Red...". He lifts your face up higher and your lips meet he has just confirmed that you are equal- more than partners, but lovers.

You don't know where to put your arms, what to think, or what to feel but it doesn't matter. You feel safe, you feel protected, you are loved.

You pull apart from each other for a moment before getting another quick peck before a grin paints his face, it resembles The Cheshire Cat's smug grin. You don't know whether to be comforted or genuinely terrified by the devilish stare.

"Well- aren't ya gonna get dressed?"

"For?". What has he planned?

"For our Sadie Hawkins- Bubbles, DUH!"

"Oh- I mean, um, YES; of course! Our Sadie Hawkins!". You don't know what he's talking about but, You trust what he does. You rush back inside to my room... time to do the damn thing.

After a while of searching for combinations, You walked out the front door in a black turtleneck, burgundy blazer with black buttons and lining, matching dress pants, and black Doc Martens for footwear to a stunned Kiri.

"Wow- you look... stunning, Y/N." You haven't heard him say my name since we started dating, it's such a genuine feeling. Kiri pauses and rushes back to the car, in a hurry he returns with a small box... this isn't a- right?

Kiri falls to his knee and lifts up the box to a petunia corsage that he slides onto your wrist, completing your look. He picks you up and carries you towards the car door where he reaches out his right arm to open it and places you inside with his left.

The car ride is smooth, no bums in the road and if there were you didn't notice- you could only pay attention to Kiri's presence. You feel a breeze sweep your hand and look down to Red's hand comfortably resting on yours.

He's warm and his hand is incredibly soft definitely the opposite of his Unbreakable form. Being with him in this car feels almost sheltering to you, like a second home of love.

While you were off daydreaming, the car stopped in front of Kiri's house. Your door opens to fully red Kirishima, clearly embarrassed by his blush, you don't react to it much. A sharp feeling strikes your brain as soon as his hand gently grasps yours... you've lived this before.

"Grab my hand and keep your eyes closed tight, I don't want the surprised spoiled!".

Right- your quirk of future vision. It feels dreamlike but as soon as it's put into motion you can pinpoint everything that'll occur after the first stage, it helps with catching villains in the act of their crimes.

"Okay- one more step... watch out for the step.. another... a third- OKAY! Open.".

You let down our hands to a bundle of streamers, lights, and a painted canvas of you and Kiri with a message written on the bottom of it "RED RIOT'S REASON TO RIOT". You don't even give yourself time to process before leaping into his arms with a kiss, you both fall back onto his lawn where you spontaneously combust into laughter.

This night has been the greatest you've ever had- he knew your favorite movies to watch, shows to binge, and music to dance to the entire night. He knows you.

"I love you, Red."

"I love you, Bubbles."

⬇️PLAYLIST BASED ON FIC⬇️

#kirishima eijirou #kirishima #bnha #myhero #my hero academia #boku no hero fanfic #my hero academy fanfiction #enby #nonbinary

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mikeohreally · 4 years ago

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LinkedIn Strategy Every Marketer Should Use

LinkedIn is a perfect channel employed by businesses around to grab the eye of potential prospects worldwide. an area engineered for all the professionals has currently become a most valued platform to execute promoting campaigns. it’s aforementioned to get a lot of leads compared to alternative usually used social media channels like Facebook and Twitter.

With solely twenty profiles in its initial days, LinkedIn took a big leap in social media platforms by exploiting the trust of a substantial variety of firms and job seekers step by step. Currently, it acts as a robust B2B tool employed by marketers across the world. sixty-three of the marketers rated this platform as the best business social media kit. you’ll be able to bank on this channel since it stands out as the best compared to alternative tools. There are specific ways one ought to follow to leverage LinkedIn to its fullest. allow us to see however these ways augment the promoting combine and increase their target reach.

Use LinkedIn As A Lead Generating Page

Most businesses use LinkedIn as a platform to spice up their merchandise and recruit workers. But, to face tall within the market area, one must do over this.

Instead of posting plain content associated with the merchandise, try and utilize this platform within the absolute best approach. Let the generated content be participating and visually spectacular. continuously embody Associate in the Nursing applicable and pleasing banner image as a result of it creates a lot of profound imprint on customers. excluding the image, the contents ought to even be without delay perceivable by the reader and showing intelligence convert them as a possible lead.

Other than content associated with the merchandise, the companies may specialize in promoting exciting offers, sponsoring new events and alternative activities. ensure the materials you post ought to be stimulating and create the reader faucet on seeing a lot of possibilities.

Regularly update your feed to interact with the followers in your activities. it’ll assist you to differentiate your page from the other normal LinkedIn pages. you’ll be able to share any relevant knowledge, statistics, infographics, or journal contents in your skilled profile.

Provide necessary links to any best journal, articles, Whitepapers, webinars, or eBooks on your page. It helps in generating a lot of incoming traffic wherever guests could end up to be a possible lead in the future. Leave valuable comments on the influencer’s content to make exposure in your space and additionally gain a lot of internet traffic.

Reach Audiences With Showcase Page

To target the correct prospects, LinkedIn offers you showcase pages wherever you’ll be able to highlight any specific product or service. By following this segmentation strategy, you’ll be able to reach the correct audiences at the correct time and build a loyal relationship with them. Segmentation is alleged to extend the conversion rate by ninety-six. One will simply promote the individual complete with this intrinsic feature. Follow this link to make showcase pages for your business and increase incoming traffic.

Some firms use multiple showcase pages to portray their merchandise within the market. you’ll be able to additionally analyze the performance of contents on every page and take the necessary action to improvise it.

Stop worrying if prospects don’t approach you. you’ll be able to reach them directly by victimizing the advanced search possibility in LinkedIn. rather than creating use of primary search possibility, businesses will dig a touch deeper to search out advanced options during this column. Here one will notice quality leads by looking out for completely different criteria like location, current company, industry, past company, school, profile language, and plenty of alternative advanced filters. Once you filter the necessities, you’ll be able to save the search to access these leads anytime. One will keep active within the search method with the assistance of saved criteria.

Initiate Personal Interaction With Prospects

Many business profiles found on LinkedIn create the use of intrinsic tools to modify most of the tasks. If you follow these business ways, you’ll lose some potential leads in the future. Customers continuously wish to act directly with the licensed person to clarify or verify their questions. In such cases, promoting automation could hinder your business growth. So, try and utilize some quality time with the consumers and speak with them concerning your product. simply be there whenever a client desires to achieve you through this channel.

Be a locality Of LinkedIn teams

Isolating your business on the LinkedIn platform won’t do any smart in reaching your target. It’s continuously preferred to decide on active teams with similar interests and participate in them. Try and create yourself as a locality of such teams to become knowledgeable in your phase. This strategy additionally helps you to be in reality with the like individuals around you.

One is a locality of solely fifty teams on the LinkedIn channel. So, businesses need to opt for the cluster with wisdom before jumping into it. you’ll be able to additionally produce a gaggle to face out as a pacesetter in your business. Here you’ll be able to post discussions and discuss you’re complete to broaden the target reach. It helps you to connect with the correct audiences in less time simply.

Build Loyal Relationship With Customers As customers play a necessary role within the growth of any business, each company has got to maintain a loyal relationship with them. rather than keeping them aside, you want to try and involve them in your LinkedIn activities to the maximum amount as attainable. you’ll be able to share your data and additionally take their recommendation reciprocally to boost the merchandise worth. This validator community can create those customers who stay loyal to your company and then build a healthy relationship between them.

Conclusion

One will create use of all of the higher than ways to reap the good thing about the LinkedIn platform. you’ll be able to with success convert results to invaluable customers and improve your language and engagement rate. Being a perfect resource for B2B promoting, it’s up to the business to trace the correct path during this phase. try and utilize this channel to its best and gain a lot of opportunities across the world.

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anomander-dragnipurake · 5 years ago

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Possessed Chapter One: Possession

I've become quite fond of the 'King Boo possessing Luigi' concept, especially with all the angst potential it brings with it, so much so that I became filled with the intense need to write a fic about it and so I have. This is also my first fic for the Mario Bros. fandom and it's honestly one of the angstiest things I've written in a long time which is not what I would've expected my first fic for this fandom to be but it was a *lot* of fun to write. Enjoy! :)

Luigi wasn’t sure what woke him but something had. Sitting up, he looked around the room for it. He’d fallen asleep on the living room chair again, watching TV. It was off now though, so were the lights, only the moonlight flittering in through the window allowed him to see that the room was empty.

With a hand that was only slightly trembling, he grabbed the remote from the coffee table and pressed the power button because if he’d fallen asleep watching TV it should’ve been on. Nothing happened though. Pulling on the switch for the lamp next to his chair also did nothing. … The power was out. … Was that what had woken him

The power going out was a fairly normal thing. It happened sometimes and was nothing to worry about, it’d probably be back up soon. … But why did it have to happen in the middle of the night? It was too dark!

Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to stand and start carefully making his way towards the hall. He was going to go to bed and sleep and not be afraid of the dark. Even if there could be ghosts hiding in it there probably weren’t and even if there was, he’d defeated more than enough ghosts by now that he shouldn’t be afraid of them anymore. … He still was though because his brain apparently wasn’t into the whole being logical about this stuff thing.

He paused upon reaching his bedroom door. Thankfully it was the first door near the start of the hall because it was dark further down with now windows to allow moonlight to leak in. It was like staring down into an abyss, he hated it.

“Puppy,” he called down it anyway, lifting his voice as loud as he dared. He braced for Polterpup to race out of the darkness and jump him but nothing happened. Normally a single call was enough to get him to come running, apparently not today though. He was probably out back, digging holes again. Luigi should go stop him because he wasn’t supposed to do that but… he’d barely made it to his bedroom door, no way did he want to go all the way to the backdoor, outside, and then all the way back here when it was so dark. … He did have a flashlight in his room though so…

Turning back to this bedroom door, he opened it and… screamed. King Boo was waiting just inside, grinning wide and laughing. Luigi only managed to backpedal a few steps as the light in King Boo’s crown grew and then with a sound much like a thunder clap flashed, replacing the utter darkness with blinding light. There was a vague sensation of falling as something pulled Luigi’s consciousness down. Something was terribly wrong about that but…

He came to laying on the floor, facing the ceiling. It wasn’t completely dark anymore, there was a light coming from… somewhere, it had a purple tinge to it. That was odd, what was…

King Boo’s laugh, though very similar to other boos’ was still distinctly his and unmistakable for anything else. Luigi screamed and… nothing actually came out of his mouth, nor did his body move to scramble away as he oh so desperately wished to do. More laughter from King Boo.

‘This worked so much better than I thought it would.’ His voice came from inside Luigi’s head. How? Why? What was happening?

Luigi sat up but much slower than he would’ve liked, his face twisting into an evil grin. He looked down at his hands, flexing them and closing them into fists as if he were working out stiffness. He wasn’t in control of this or himself in anyway. But if he wasn’t in control of his body than who…

“I am,” King Boo said out loud, using Luigi’s mouth. It was a horrible, gross, awful realization that would’ve had Luigi shuddering with revulsion and horror if his body were still his to control. This kind of violation was something beyond anything he’d ever even considered a possibility let alone something that someone would do to him.

King Boo laughed as he stood up and stretched. An echo of his glee about a plan of his finally be successful hit Luigi, making him feel almost sick. Which only furthered King Boo’s delight. He took a breath as if to say something, probably a taunt about Luigi’s revulsion and horror but a sound drew his gaze to the left.

It was Gooigi. They’d come out of their room and was now staring at Luigi and King Boo. Their face was nearly expressionless as always so what they felt about whatever it is they saw was impossible to guess but Luigi wanted more than anything to beg them for help. It… didn’t seem to be coming though.

King Boo grinned and took a menacing step towards them… or tried to. He stumbled instead, landing face first on the carpet. Even though it hurt and despite the circumstances it was kind of funny; big bad King Boo couldn’t even walk properly.

‘SHUT UP!’ King Boo shouted internally, making Luigi do the mental equivalent of a flinch, all mirth gone from the situation. ‘It’s not my fault you’re stuck with an inferior way of moving around. I can fly remember? I don’t need legs.’ He pushed himself back to his feet and brushed himself off. “What are you looking at?” he said in an almost growl as he glared at Gooigi. “Go away.”

Gooigi stared for a few seconds more before switching their flashlight on. They flashed it but that did nothing but hurt Luigi’s eyes a little. It didn’t seem to bother King Boo any as he tried walking towards them again, this time with more success even if his balance was still very off. Gooigi responded by switching to the dark light which was normally effective against both boos and possessed objects but… seemingly not this time.

Before they could attempt anything else, King Boo was in front of them. He spat on them and as always when even a drop of water touched them, they started melting, making a vague ‘uh oh’ sound. They’d ultimately be fine and would reform in their tank but watching them melt was still unpleasant. … And with them gone, there went Luigi’s chances of immediate rescue because he’d never gotten around to having E. Gadd modify the tank so Gooigi could get out on their own.

“That takes care of that then,” King Boo said with a satisfied simile as he turned away before Gooigi was even all the way melted.

W-what are you going to do to me? Luigi dared to venture at him, his inner voice quivery with fear. He wanted to be angry and he should be but… anger was hard even when he wasn’t terrified.

King Boo didn’t respond with words of any sort, just a spike in that echo of his evil delight as he started making his wobbly, careful way further down the hall. The purple light coming from somewhere on Luigi’s person wasn’t much of a light source, it barely illuminated anything but it was better than nothing. Though when they reached the hall mirror in a few steps, Luigi would’ve preferred it not be there at all as King Boo stopped to look into it.

Luigi’s hair and mustache were now a stark white. His eyes mostly empty white except for a tint of purple around the edges; very reminiscent of King Boo’s eyes. The purple glow was from King Boo’s crown, it was smaller on Luigi’s head but still unmistakable as anything else. This… was probably the worst thing to ever happen to Luigi and that was saying a lot.

“I like it,” King Boo said with an evil grin that looked wrong on Luigi’s face. “Your outfit is gross though; we’ll have to fix it before we go talk to your friends.” He pulled the hat off and tossed it aside so the crown would rest more naturally on his head.

‘Talk to your friends’, that could only mean…

“Yep,” King Boo interrupted the thought. “You really think I’d possess you and not drag you around in front of your friends? What would the fun be in that?”

No, no, please no! Luigi hated to beg but he did not want his friends to see him like this and… most of all he didn’t want Mario to see him like this.

“Too bad! His reaction is the one I’m most looking forward too. But before that, it’s been a long time since I piloted a meat suit, I apparently need some practice.” So he wouldn’t trip at a bad time again… if only Luigi could appreciate the humor in that thought.

A short time into King Boo’s ‘meat suit’ practice he decided to make everything worse by taunting him ruthlessly. Luigi did his best not to react because that’s what King Boo wanted. He was doing mostly okay at it for a while… until King Boo found a button to push anyway.

‘What do you think Mario will think of you when he sees you like this?'

That… was a good question? What would he think?

'Maybe he’ll be happy.'

Luigi really shouldn’t respond but… Why would he be… happy?

'Because, I’ve defeated him three times now. Each time you’ve had to save him. But normally he’s the hero, right? And you’re just a sidekick at best. Thus, by saving him, you make him look like a fool. So maybe he’ll be happy to see you’ve finally been defeated by the one foe he’s never been able to best.'

Logically Luigi knew that couldn’t be true; Mario was his bro, he’d never be happy to see him like this. But… what if it was true? He’d never indicated he had resentment towards Luigi for having saved him three times now but what if he was just good at hiding it? Mario had always been better and stronger than him, it made sense he wouldn’t want to be saved by someone like Luigi, right?

'Exactly! Heck when he finds out maybe he won’t even want to…’ King Boo tripped over the coffee table, banging Luigi’s shin and landing on it hard.

Despite not being in control of his body, Luigi felt the pain just as strongly. It sucked but it did serve to knock him out of his spiraling worries. Of all times to worry about Mario possibly secretly hating him, now was not it. He was not going to let King Boo taunt him into worry about that.

With an annoyed huff, King Boo straightened and resumed walking practice, seemingly unphased by the pain. The fact that his coordination was so bad was the only mercy in the situation, hopefully it would take him a while to get past it.

Polterpup finally decided to return from outside a short while later, interrupting another taunt from King Boo. He froze, his glowing eyes locking onto King Boo and Luigi a half second before he started growling. Luigi had never heard him growl like that before, it made him want to pull back. But instead of course, King Boo approached.

“Go ahead, attack me.” He grinned as he held Luigi’s forearm out, the perfect target for a Polterpup to jump up and bite.

He looked like he was going to, rearing back ready to pounce, but faltered instead, his angry growl petering out. He barked and ran in a little circle a few times. When he stopped, he sat down on his hunches and whined up at Luigi rather pitifully. After a few seconds of King Boo waiting and probably hoping for him to attack, he barked again before turning and bolting back through the front door. Well… at least he didn’t attack so Luigi wouldn’t have to add that to the list of traumatic experiences he was going through tonight. Maybe… he was going for help?

'He’s probably abandoning you. But even on the off chance he does go for help, it’ll be in vain. You’re my hostage now and I don’t intend to give you up anytime soon.'

#My writing #super mario bros #Luigi's mansion #Booigi #King Boo #Luigi #Possession

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starstwinkleplanetsshine · 4 years ago

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The Call of Resistance Chapter 5

Posting this one early for y’all :)

Read on AO3

Chapter 5: The Two Strangers

To say that I was afraid while riding alone on a speeder through the dangerous Tatooine night, with nothing but a staff and my abilities to defend myself, would be an understatement. In the darkness every bush was a lurking animal, every pile of rocks was a sentient laying in wait, and every sound meant danger. I seriously considered turning back to the safety of the village when I began to smell burning, and not seconds later I saw the warm light of flames in the desert ahead of me. They weren't raging or very high, so I knew I had found the crash site.

I slowed the speeder as I neared, and what I saw was not what I was expecting. Crashes on Tatooine weren’t very common, since being so far on the Outer Rim doesn’t bring us many beings just passing through, but they weren’t completely unheard of. But those crashes were usually small crafts, either damaged or out of fuel. I had never seen a large, smoking freighter crash before.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” I called out in Basic, wondering if I should try other languages as well. When I got no response, I called out again in Huttese and Bocce and waited for a response. Still nothing. “Hello?” I called again as I slowly neared the crashed ship, whose flames had gone out and was now just smoking. My heart nearly jumped out of my chest when I heard a voice call back from inside the ship,

“Hello? Yes! I’m in here!” Almost as soon as I heard the voice, a dark haired man came stumbling out of the ship, his face dirty and his clothes disheveled. I instinctively tightened my grip on my staff.

“Are you alright? I saw your ship crash and wanted to make sure no one was injured.”

“Yeah, we’re alright. Thank you.” Whoever this man was, I could tell he was nervous by his body language and the way he kept glancing backwards behind him, like he was looking for someone in the ship. But his voice didn’t display this, instead he sounded cool and collected. I didn’t know what to make of him.

“We?”

“Me and my co-pilot.” As if on cue, the distinct sound of a Wookiee could be heard coming from inside the now-smoldering ship. I had never met a Wookiee, but I knew their reputation, and it complicated things.

“Is your co-pilot...a Wookiee?” The man shifted slightly and rubbed the back of his neck before flashing a dashing smile. Even in the dim moonslight, I could tell he was handsome.

“Yeah, but don’t worry! Chew, um, he would never hurt a flii.” I was slightly reassured at his words, but something about his tone still made me cautious. Add that to the fact that this crash site could potentially be drawing the attention of the Sand People, and I was extremely on edge.

“So, what’s the problem with your freighter?” As I stepped closer to the ship, the smell of smoke rushed into my nose and I had to stifle the cough that threatened to erupt suddenly. Smoke from the inside as well as the outside could only mean one thing, and I said at the same time the man did--

“The motivator.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “How did you know that?”

“I’ve been flying ever since I was a kid, and I’ve been scrapping for the past few years. I pick up on things.” There were more noises from inside the ship which caused the brown-haired man to look back nervously. “Judging by the damage, and the fact that you crashed, I’d say the motivator is broken beyond repair. You may need to get another one.” The man clearly didn’t like this answer, and he rubbed his hand down his face before groaning in frustration.

“I knew it.” He said quietly under his breath. As I stepped closer to the ship, I could see that it was an old model that was extremely beat up. No wonder it crashed.

“Is this a Corellian Freighter? What model is this, YT-1350?” He gave me another quizzical look, as if he was trying to read me, before answering simply,

“YT-1300.”

“1300?! No wonder this hunk of junk crashed, it’s nearly over 90 years old! Why are you even flying this thing?” The man’s demeanor suddenly changed, getting defensive.

“Hey, this may be a hunk of junk, but it’s the fastest hunk of junk in the galaxy, and it’s seen us, and my friends, out of some pretty tough situations, so I would be careful before you judge a starship by its coverings.” I didn’t have time to react before he stalked away back into the ship, presumably to help the distressed Wookiee inside. Something about what he said triggered something within me, like a memory that I didn’t know I had, and I stood there trying to remember. It was so close, if I just thought a little harder….he said ‘fastest hunk of junk in the galaxy’. It was a Corellian YT-1300 Freighter. Why did those things stand out to me? Why were they important? Then all at once, it clicked. I had heard those words before. Spoken by my parents while telling stories of the War. Telling stories of…

Without thinking, I rushed inside the ship, following the path the dark-haired man had taken. I didn’t know where I was going, but it was as if my feet did, and before long I was standing in front of the man and the Wookiee. They were shocked to see me, but they were even more surprised by the words that came out of my mouth.

“This is the Millennium Falcon, isn’t it?” The two shared a glance before the man opened his mouth to speak.

“And why, um, why do you think that?”

“Because I grew up on stories about it. My parents were Rebels in the Galactic Civil War, and would tell me about the “Fastest Hunk of Junk in the Galaxy”, the ship that saved the Rebellion many times. A Corellian YT-1300 Freighter modified so much it was hardly the ship it started out as. They would tell me about the brave pilots who flew it. About Han Solo.” I was suddenly overwhelmed by the possibility that I was actually standing in the ship of my childhood bedtime stories. The ship of my legends. “I know this is it.”

Both the man and the Wookiee looked to the ground, the man letting out a sigh before replying,

“Yes. This is the Millennium Falcon.”

My jaw dropped as he confirmed what I already knew within me, and I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face.

“Holy Banthas,” I suddenly had another realization, “You must be Chewbacca!” My dad never told a story about Han Solo without talking about his right-hand Wookiee, and it was like I was face to face with one of my childhood heroes. Chewbacca nodded and responded in Shyriiwook in response, and I let out a small laugh. I couldn’t believe what was happening.

I didn't have much time to dwell in my excitement, because at that moment a loud popping could be heard coming from deeper in the ship. Swearing, the man took off running, with Chewbacca following him, and instinctively I did too. It was no doubt the motivator, I would recognize that noise any day. When I caught up with them, it was smokier than the rest of the ship, and all three of us were coughing.

“Chewie, I thought you said you fixed it!” The man shouted as he frantically pushed any button he thought would help solve the problem. I couldn’t understand the Wookiee, but it was clear by his tone that he did not appreciate being blamed for this.

“It’s still the motivator.” I said, causing the two of them to turn around. It was almost as if they had forgotten I was there.

“No, the motivator caused the crash. Now that we're not flying, it shouldn’t be affecting the ship.” The man’s tone was annoyed and matter-of-fact, like he was absolutely positive he couldn’t be wrong. But he was.

“Not if it’s overheating, then it would continue to be a problem. Causing smoke and popping noises.” And as to prove my point, another loud POP rang through the cockpit, causing Chewbacca to call out in protest.

“No, it’s not the motivator.”

“I’m telling you, it is.”

“Not possible, sweetheart.”

“Listen, Flyboy, I’ve been repairing ships since I could walk. Especially old garbage heaps like this one, so I don’t know who you are, but I would listen to me if you want to fix it in time to get your ship up and running again.” He opened his mouth to say something else, his eyes blazing, but then decided against it and closed it quickly. His stare held firm, however, and the intensity of his eyes rivalled the fire that was burning minutes ago. Here, in the light of the ship, I could see my speculations outside were correct--he was very handsome.

No time to think of that now, though, as the ship continued to fill with smoke, I knew I needed to cool down the motivator as quickly as I could. That would not be an easy thing to do, however.

The man sighed deeply as I held my gaze firmly on him.

“Sweetheart, I don’t even know your name. So forgive me if I don’t-” He was cut off by Chewbacca, and whatever he said did not make the man happy. “What?!” He nearly shouted.

“What did he say?” The man ignored me, though, and turned towards the Wookiee in annoyance.

“Well why didn’t you say that earlier?”

Another response from the Wookie.

I rolled my eyes, accepting that he wasn’t going to translate for me, and I began to look around for the motivator so I could open the panel and try and cool it. If he wasn’t going to listen to me and fix the problem, then it looked like I was going to have to do it myself.

“Chewie said that you might be right.” It took me a few moments to realize that the man was talking to me, and I turned at him, no doubt my surprise clear on my face.

“Oh, so you’re done ignoring me?” I couldn’t tell if the man scoffed or rolled his eyes.

“He said that the motivator has overheated in the past, and a similar thing happened then that's happening now.” I couldn’t help but smirk triumphantly.

“Well look at that. Turns out the desert dwelling girl from Tatooine was right.” He definitely rolled his eyes at this, getting more annoyed by the second. He stalked over to one of the panels and opened it, causing smoke to billow out more than it already was.

“Is that the motivator?” I asked, not fully expecting a response. At this Chewbacca said something, but judging by the man’s “Shut it, Chewie.”, I guessed it wasn’t something I was going to be privy to.

“Yes, it’s the motivator.”

“Okay, you need to cool it down.”

“Thank you, I never would’ve guessed that since it's overheating.”

I was starting to wonder if I had made a mistake by coming to his aid, as he was making this situation significantly more difficult than it needed to be.

“Just find something to do it.” I said sharply. “Do you have any Cooling Agent on this ship?” The man looked up at nothing in particular, deep in thought. There was silence for a few moments before the Wookiee spoke again.

“No.”

“Well, I’m not sure if you can fix it then. It might cool off on its own, but it’ll take a while. You likely won’t be able to take off ‘till morning.” This caused the man to slam his hand on the console and swear, which startled me.

“That’s what I was worried about.” For the first time since I stepped onto the Millennium Falcon, the man's tone was genuine and, if I listened closely, a little fearful. It was vulnerable, his eyes had softened, and his brow was furrowed in concern. Seeing him like this made something inside me lurch, and I was speaking without fully realizing what I was saying.

“If that is the case, it won’t be safe to stay here with all this smoke. And you definitely can’t camp out outside the ship. You can come with me for the night, and in the morning if the motivator hasn’t cooled we can go into the cityport to try and find something to fix it.” I didn’t know who was more surprised--me at my own words, or the man and the Wookiee. He looked at me as if I had just sprouted Bantha horns out of my head.

“That’s...kind. Thank you. But I don't think-” The man was once again interrupted by Chewbacca, who sounded insistent. This was followed by another sigh from him, who looked more resigned after whatever Chewbacca had said to him. “On second thought, we will take you up on that offer. If that’s not too much to ask.” He said the last bit with a little fire, shooting daggers at the Wookiee, which no doubt was because of whatever the creature had just said.

“Oh, not at all. Plus, it’s much safer than staying out here. There’s no telling what the Sand People might do if they find this ship, and you two had better not be on board if they do.” This made the man raise his eyebrows in concern, but he didn’t make a comment about it.

“Okay then. Let us, um, gather our things. You can wait in the loading bay, we’ll be right out.” I nodded as they left the cockpit and I followed, waiting for them to gather all that they needed for the night.

Once alone, I finally had a chance to try and process all the information I had just learned very quickly. The fact that I was standing on the Millennium Falcon, I had just met Chewbacca, and I had invited him, and his partner, to take shelter in my home. I still had no idea who the man with him was, but I could only assume he was a member of the Resistance.

Despite all the excitement and adrenaline that began to course through me, I also felt that all-too familiar pang of loneliness that followed me wherever I went ever since I lost my parents. How I wished I could share this moment with them, I wished they could see me standing on the ship my father always raved about, talked about as if it were a legend. Now, standing here, it seemed so much more...real than I thought it would. The familiar smell of metal that came with all ships, the comforting beeps and pops of the console. It hit me that with all the tales told about the Millenium Falcon, the countless bedtime stories passed down to younger generations, through all that time, it was still, at the end of the day, just a starship.

Something about this revelation comforted me.

----

“I don’t think I ever caught your name.” I said to the handsome, dark-haired man as I led them through the desert back towards my home. My grip on my staff was tight, and only half of my mind was on the question I had just asked, the majority of my thoughts on our surroundings. I was caught off-guard by the man’s initial response: a laugh. More of a chuckle, and it was almost as if he didn’t mean to release it.

“I guess the two of us didn’t have the best introduction, did we?” I echoed his laugh, although mine felt heavier. I wondered if he was avoiding the question on purpose. “I’m Poe. Poe Dameron.” He stopped walking to turn and shake my hand, which surprised me. After a moment, I took his outstretched hand.

“Novastra.”

“Novastra...I’ve never heard that name before. It’s beautiful.” Poe’s compliment was so sudden I felt a hot blush rush to my cheeks, and I was suddenly thankful for the darkness surrounding us.

“Oh, thanks. Most people just call me Nova, though.”

“Nova.” He repeated, softer. “Nice to officially meet you, Nova.” The bravado and confidence that I remembered from the Falcon was back in his voice and he continued walking. Chewbacca then said something that I, of course, couldn’t understand, but Poe ignored it, so I figured it couldn’t have been that important.

“How much farther until we get to where we’re going?” Poe asked after a few moments walking in silence.

“It’s not much farther. Our farm is on the outskirts of our small village, I’d say we’re only two or three klicks away.”

“Your farm?”

“I live and work on a moisture farm. It’s pretty much the only way to make money here on Tatooine. Well, the only legal way to make money, other than scrapping.”

Chewbacca made another sound, this time longer and more agitated. I could tell by his tone that, whatever he said, he wasn’t happy. “What did he say?” I asked Poe quietly.

“He said he doesn’t like Tatooine, that he told himself he would never come back. Apparently he has some not-so-fond memories here.” Poe looked apprehensive relaying this message, but I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. He clearly didn’t know that nobody hates Tatooine more than the people living there.

“That doesn’t surprise me. Most people who make it off this godsforsaken rock alive never come back. That’s what I’m trying to do, anyways.” The moonslight was dim, but I could see as slight confusion washed over Poe’s face.

“You want to leave?” I, once again, couldn’t suppress my laughter.

“I’ve wanted to leave since I was old enough to know where I was. I can’t explain it, but there’s something about this planet...I just know this isn’t my home. There’s a feeling, an ache deep within me, pulling me away from here, out to the stars. I want to jump in a ship and not look back until Tatooine is a tiny speck behind me.” There was silence for a few moments.

“Where would you go?”

“Anywhere. Everywhere.”

“Everywhere, huh?” The glint in Poe’s eyes was clearly visible.

“Yes. I’ve heard of these things...oceans? Whole vast stretches of water as far as the eye can see. I can hardly even imagine something that beautiful. I want to see an ocean.” I was so lost in my fantasy of escaping this prison of a planet that I almost didn’t notice the lights in the distance.

“Is that the village?” The man’s voice brought me back down to earth, out of the stars.

“Yes, that’s it. You see those lights over there?” I pointed to the lights on the farthest edge of the village. “That’s the farm.”

“It looks...pretty big.” I smiled as I began to walk toward the lights.

“It’s bigger than average. The Mainvins own a commercial farm, so it’s larger than a family farm would be. But it’s nothing compared to the Darklighter farms, we own more than 20 all across Tatooine, the biggest are twice the size of this one.”

“We?” I was starting to see that Poe was very inquisitive, and picked up on a lot of things.

I sighed before starting to explain.

“My last name is Darklighter. My family on my father's side owns all those farms I was just talking about. But when my dad and his brother, my uncle, left the family business to fight in the Civil War, my grandparents disowned them. They wouldn’t even take me in when...when my parents died. That’s why I live and work on the Mainvin farm, they were my parents' closest friends.”

“Oh.” Was all that Poe replied. We walked for a few more minutes in silence as the lights grew brighter and closer. I hadn’t planned on sharing that part of my life with the stranger, or my dreams about leaving Tatooine, but it was as if I were talking without my own control. As if something deep within me was guiding me in what to say against my better judgement. I didn’t like the feeling.

It wasn’t until we were steps away from the door that a wave of anxiety washed over me. I knew Lux wouldn’t like this.

“Okay.” I began as I stopped in front of the door and faced the two of them. “Before we go in, I have to tell you one more thing...I don’t live alone. I live with my best friend, Lux. He’s probably not going to be thrilled about this whole situation, but just leave it to me and I’ll handle him.” The two shared a look before Poe nodded.

“I’ll follow your lead.” He said simply.

“Good.” I tried to put on a brave face and mask the apprehension that was rising in me, but I knew I probably wasn't doing a great job at that.

“Lux!” I called as I slowly creaked the door open. I wasn’t even inside yet before the yelling began.

“Novastra Darklighter! I’ve been worried sick! You were supposed to be home hours ago! Where were you?”

I could hear a small “oh” escape from Poe’s mouth as I stood looking at Lux with my back to the door, blocking my two guests as best as I could. It was pretty hard to block the Wookiee, though.

“Lux, I know. I’m sorry. But I can explain!”

“That’s what you always say, Nova, and I feel like your explanations never actually help.”

“Lux, I-.”

Lux shook his head as he moved closer to me. “Nov, you were supposed to be back from your meeting hours ago. I know you have to walk a long way alone, and you know I hate that. Just thinking about the Sand People, and something happening to—“

“—Lux, please, not now. This time I have a good reason for being late.”

“I’m all ears.” I took a deep breath and mustered the courage I would need to tell him that two strangers needed to stay in our hut tonight. Growing up on Tatooine doesn’t make you a very trusting person.

“Well, right as I was about to leave Calrey and Kagara’s, a freighter crashed somewhere in the dune sea. It flew right over us and we all saw it start smoking. I knew I couldn’t just leave it there, so I went to see if there was anyone at the crash site that might need help-”

“-you did what?” Lux interrupted. “You went into the Dune Sea at night to...investigate a crash site?! Nova! There was no telling who could’ve been on that ship! This is not some peaceful planet like...like....Naboo! This is Tatooine! There could’ve been dangerous bounty hunters on that ship and you could be dead right now!”

“Lux, I know. And I’m sorry for being careless, but I just had a feeling that I needed to-”

“-Oh you and your ‘feelings’ Nova. I swear, I’ll never understand you.” Lux took a seat at the table and rested his head in his hands. I knew he wouldn’t be happy, but I would have never guessed that he would have this explosive of a reaction. It made me worried about what I knew was coming next.

“Well, it wasn’t bounty hunters.” I said in a small voice as I shifted nervously in front of the door that I still had propped open.

“Aren’t you lucky then?” I sighed as he looked up at me, his hard eyes softening ever so slightly. “I’m sorry I’m yelling, Nov. But you know how worried I get.”

“I know.”

“Well, despite it all, I’m glad that you’re alright and that we can just put this behind us.” I took in a deep breath, trying to push down my apprehension. Here we go I thought.

“Actually...we can’t exactly put it behind us. Not yet, anyways.” Lux narrowed his eyes at me and I could tell he was getting defensive again.

“What do you mean?”

“Like I said, they weren’t bounty hunters or anyone dangerous. They were...Resistance fighters.”

“Oh, Novastra.” Was all that Lux said as he put his head in his hands once again.

“The motivator on their ship was overheating and it was unsafe to stay in there with all the smoke, and obviously they couldn’t camp outside in the Dune Sea, so I-”

“-You told them they could stay here, didn’t you?” To my surprise, Lux wasn’t angry. At least, he didn’t sound angry. He sounded more annoyed with just a hint of resignation. But I would take that over anger anyday.

“Yes.” I replied sheepishly.

“Are they standing outside right now?” He still had his head in his hands.

“Yes they are.” At this, Lux let out a deep sigh before slowly lifting his head.

“Wonderful.” He shrugged. “Well, let them in. I guess they can sleep on the floor in here, I’ll look for some extra blankets.” I broke out into a wide smile as I ran over and flung my arms around him.

“Thank you! You know you’re the best, right Lux?” I heard him let out a small chuckle, even though he was trying very hard to keep his annoyed demeanor.

“Oh, I know I am. It’s you who needs to remember that. And you owe me one after this, Nova.”

“Of course! Anything!” I broke away from the hug and walked over to the door, which was still propped slightly, and opened it all the way.

“Okay, you can come in now.” Both Poe and Chewbacca looked incredibly uncomfortable, and I immediately knew they had heard every word that was just spoken. Poe tried to put on a confident face before saying,

“If it’s too much trouble, I’m sure we can find somewhere else to stay for the night.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Poe, was it? There is nowhere else to stay. And besides, it’s really all right. Lux is...well, Lux. But he’s fine.” With that, led the way into our hut and I turned back to them just in time to see Chewbacca crouch down into the doorway.

“Sorry, Chewbacca,” I still couldn’t believe I was talking to The Chewbacca, “it’ll be a bit of a tight fit for you.” He responded while shaking his head, and his tone sounded nice, so I wasn’t surprised when Poe translated,

“He said it’s alright, and he says thank you for letting us stay here.” I smiled kindly at the Wookiee,

“Of course, it’s no problem at all. Make yourselves comfortable, well, as comfortable as you can.”

The two of them began to look around the room, not that there was much to look at, and I tried to think of something to say that could break the silence when Lux reentered with some blankets.

“This is Lux Mainvin, the one I told you about.” I said to Poe and Chewbacca as I gestured toward the man who was clearly uncomfortable with two strangers in his house.

“Here are some blankets, not that I think you’ll be cold or anything. You could lay them on the ground, though, it may make it more comfortable.” He awkwardly handed them a few old, worn out blankets that I had never seen before and Poe took them gingerly, flashing Lux a wide smile. I was caught off guard by that smile every time I saw it.

“Thank you. And thank you for letting us stay for the night. Your friend, Nova, was very kind to let us. I hope we’re not too much of an intrusion.” Poe handed some blankets to Chewbacca and he began to lay them out on the floor.

“Oh,” Lux began, clearly caught off guard by Poe’s civility, “it’s not that big of a problem, as long as you promise not to rob the place in our sleep!” I wasn’t sure how Lux’s sad attempt at a joke would land, especially because he wasn’t totally kidding, but Poe laughed along with him.

“We promise.” he replied as he stuck out his hand to Lux, who took it and shook it firmly. At that moment, Chewbacca also finished laying out his blankets and said something that I could only guess at, but that Poe confirmed a second later. “Chewie says thanks, too.” At this Lux’s eyes went wide, as he was hit with the realization I had while aboard the Falcon.

“Chewie? Did you say Chewie? As in, Chewbacca?” Poe smiled as he let out a chuckle and Chewie said something that did not get translated.

“Yes, The Chewbacca.” Poe flashed another one of his gorgeous smiles, “And I’m Poe. Poe Dameron. It’s great to meet you.”

“You see why I trusted them now, Lux?” I cut in. “They’re with The Resistance. They’re on our side.” Lux nodded his head slowly as he snapped himself out of his star-struck gaze.

“Yes, I understand now, Nov.” There was silence for a few moments before Lux let out an over exaggerated yawn. “Well, it is late. We should all be getting some sleep.” We nodded in agreement and I turned toward the guests before following Lux towards the hallway that led to our rooms.

“I hope you two can sleep well, and if you need anything, my room is the second one down the hall, don’t hesitate to knock.” I gave them a smile, which Poe returned, which made something inside me flutter, before saying “goodnight, then.” and turning towards my room. I found Lux standing in my doorway, which wasn’t visible from the space Poe and Chewbacca were settling into.

“Just when I think nothing you can do could surprise me anymore.” Lux teased as he smiled at me. I playfully nudged his shoulder as I replied,

“Oh, come on. They needed help, so I helped. It’s nothing you wouldn't have done.”

“For a friend, absolutely. But for two total strangers! That’s just plain crazy.” He was smiling, but I could tell there was truth behind his words. As much as he tried to hide it, he was still uneasy.

“I know, it probably wasn't the smartest thing to do-��

“-probably?”

“-But, I just had this-”

“-do not say feeling-”

“-feeling about it.” At this, Lux sighed and rolled his eyes, but his smile never wavered.

“You and your feelings, Nov.” I smiled up at him.

“You know me.”

“Yeah, I do.” He pulled me into a hug that I returned and settled into. Lux was one of the only people I allowed myself to have my guard down around. “I’m just glad you’re safe.” He added, a little softer. A little more...sincere. I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I just stood there, arms around him, until we pulled away and shared another smile. He ruffled my hair after a moment and began to walk towards the door.

“Goodnight, Lux. Thanks for always looking out for me.” He turned to look at me before replying,

“Goodnight, Nov.”

As I settled into bed, I couldn’t stop my mind from racing. Two Resistance fighters were in my living room, and one of them was Chewbacca, best friend of Han Solo, both the legends of my childhood bedtime stories. As I finally began to drift to sleep, one thought kept replaying over and over again,

‘This just may be my ticket out.’

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blacklilyqueen · 6 years ago

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Picture Frame (Wanda x Reader)

Summary: You find Wanda crying in the headquarters. While trying to comfort her, you both start realizing your feelings for each other.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader (non gender specific)

Warnings: mentions of death

Word Count: 1703

Exhausted, you entered Avenger's headquarters. At the last cosy meeting with some of them you mentioned that sometimes you wish you were a little more well-trained. As a former S.H.I.E.L.D agent and unofficial member of the Avengers, you weren't exactly unathletic, but if you compare yourself almost every day to the achievements of Assassins, Super Soldiers, genetically modified heroes, and literal gods, your own skills suddenly start to look very limited. Steve had kindly offered you his help and suggested that you train with him today. At first, you were so excited that the thought, that it might not be the best idea to compete with someone who was literally a super soldier, didn’t even cross your mind.

The bag with your training clothes slips out of your hand as you finally drop onto the sofa. Steve had really tried to be fair and considerate of you, but in the end he couldn't help laughing when you were completely running after him at the end of your strength while he wasn't showing the slightest hint of effort. Now you just lie there and slowly try to breathe normally again. Legs outstretched and eyes closed you just want to rest when you suddenly hear a loud clang. Shocked, you jump up and set off to find the source of the noise.

Normally, you wouldn't be so worried and would have just assumed it was one of the other Avengers. However, you know that the others should all be out at the moment, which is why you are now on high alert. Carefully you lurk around every corner, your hands tightly wrapped around your weapon. The sound came from the upper floor so far that you are sure and are now standing at the landing. Before you go up, you look around in all directions to make sure no one is waiting for you.

You can also feel every cell of your body tense when you reach the top. You are trying to collect your thoughts and think about how best to proceed tactically when you hear a soft sob. In addition to your emotional chaos of fear, caution, and willingness to fight, there is also confusion. Why should a potential attacker sob? Was this a trap? An attempt to get you out of your cover? With a strong kick you push open the door, which fortunately isn’t locked and point your pistol at the spot where the sobbing seems to come from. Your grip around the pistol narrows and your finger is already on the trigger, ready to shoot when you realize who is the cause of the whole thing.

Wanda sits on the floor in front of you and looks at you in horror through her puffy eyes. Immediately you lower your arm and put the weapon back. You had expected a lot, but not this. You've never seen Wanda like this before. Huddled together, trembling all over and with red, swollen eyes. Next to her you can see some broken glass, but she has no injuries of her own. The whole thing just doesn't make any sense, Wanda shouldn't even be here yet. From what you understood she had met a friend a few days ago and was staying with them until later in the evening.

"What are you doing?" worriedly you look at Wanda. You two have only known each other for a few months and yet you started to like her very quickly. It wasn't even the case that you two spent a lot of time together, let alone a lot of time just the two of you. Yet there was something you couldn't describe when you saw each other. You had had these kinds of feelings that you felt only when you were with Wanda. Again and again you had persuaded yourself that it was completely irrational, because you hardly know her. But isn't that exactly what feelings are about? Feelings are irrational. Feelings help us to let go of everything our mind tells us, so that we can finally find out what we really want. So is it really something bad to be irrational? Because your feelings about Wanda were irrational and just felt right, but maybe only you feel that way.

"Are you really asking me that? The question is what are you doing? You kicked in the door and came in with your gun drawn, what's the point?" Her voice tells you that she's insecure. She speaks loudly and clearly and yet it is as if you could perceive a tremor in her voice. She is scared and there is obviously something she doesn't want to talk about. Still, you think it would be best to simply answer her question.

"I heard a noise, and because I thought everyone else was on the move, I panicked. And now you. Why are you here? I thought you were out with that girl from last week. And why are you sitting here crying on the floor?"

Wanda strokes a strand that has fallen into her face to the side and breathes in and out deeply until she finally answers you: "It's nothing. Everything is alright.

As she says, she wipes tears from her face with shaky hands, stands up and takes a few wobbly steps towards the door. But before she leaves the room, you reach out your hand to her. It lies lightly on her arm. Wanda could easily move on and ignore your touch, but she doesn't. Instead, she turns around to look you in the eye. Without really noticing what you are doing, you take a step towards her. The next moment, Wanda's head lies sobbing on your shoulder while your arms are tightly wrapped around her.

It takes quite a while - you can't possibly say how long exactly - until she stops crying. When she lifts her head from your shoulder and looks you in the eye, it's like you can read all her pain on her face. Carefully you try to get her to sit on one of the chairs in the room.

"I'll get you a quick glass of water, I'll be right back, okay?" In response, you only get a faint nod.

As you leave the room, you take a quick look at the glass splinters and realize that it must have been a picture frame. Only when you come back from the kitchen with a glass of water do you discover the picture that fell out. It seems to be a family photo. You can see a man, a woman and two children, boy and girl, each about 9 years old.

You hand Wanda the glass and sit down on a chair next to her. Only when she has finished drinking do you begin to speak: "The picture, is this you with your family?

For a moment Wanda is completely silent, only to suddenly whisper a quiet, "Yes".

"How did you get that?" As far as you know, everything that belonged to the Maximoffs was destroyed when their home was bombed, and you didn't know where else Wanda could have gotten this photo. Again she says nothing and you're not sure if it was a good idea to ask that question, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. Maybe you should just rest and..."

"Ana."

"Excuse me?" You're not sure you understood her correctly. What should "Ana" mean?

"Ana, the woman I met with, do you remember?" You nod briefly, even if you don't quite understand what that has to do with this photo, "I didn't meet her just a few days ago, but about ten years ago. She joined the company where my father worked at that time. Apparently he had this picture on his desk. Ana kept his things when his desk was emptied to tried to bring them to Pietro and me, but couldn't find us anywhere. And then a few weeks ago she apparently saw me on the news and started looking for me. When we met today she gave me the box with all his things. At first I wasn't sure if I wanted to open it at all and when I did, I discovered the photo and just couldn't take it anymore."

You can see her eyes filling with tears again as her voice shakes and she has to gasp for air as if she can't breathe. Again you gently put your hand on her arm, "Everything’s okay. Everything is fine. Take a deep breath."

The rest of the afternoon passes quickly. Wanda begins telling you about her family and starts crying again and again. Sometime in the course of time you’re leaving Wanda's room and wander into the living room. During the afternoon it happens more and more that Wanda is crying on your shoulder. And so you both lay on the sofa, Wanda’s head leaned against your chest, your one arm around her body, while you pet her head with your other hand. As you lie there, you can feel Wanda turning her head to look at you, and her gaze hits yours, only to turn away again.

"Maybe I should go now. I've been bothering you all day with my whining, I don't want to annoy you anymore."

"Bother?" You are completely perplexed. How does she get the idea that this would bother you? "Wanda you don't bother me or annoy me! You are really important to me and I don't want you to feel bad. You had to go through a lot and I would never wish anyone to have to go through all that. I understand how hurt you are and I just wish you were well. Wanda, I don't think you have any idea how much you mean to me."

Without really knowing what exactly you are doing, you stretch out your hand to gently stroke Wanda's cheek with your thumb. Your other fingers are under her chin and slowly lift it to bring it closer to your face. Only centimetres separate you and you can already feel her breath on your lips. Your gazes meet again and you look deep into her eyes before she closes them and your lips finally meet.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch #marvel #avengers

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nerdythebard · 4 years ago

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#10: Trevor Belmont [Castlevania]

Time to finish this little special with the man, the myth, the drunken legend of the series, Trevor Belmont of the House of Belmont. Poor Treffy, saved for last, and with such a long delay. Well, let's see what he brings into the game!

Next Time: Nothing like the refreshing taste of coffee with honey, eh?

Y'all know the drill. Let's examine what we need to make Trevor shine on the battlefield:

Whip It Good: The main weapon of the main man. Trevor's proficiency with the whips goes beyond the bedroom. He's precise enough to poke a guy's eye out. He's also pretty good with, well, anything he can find, including tavern mugs, rakes, or just his very own fists.

Monster Lore & Tactics: Now, Trevor himself said he's not been that keen on learning from his family's library, but we see him dropping bits and pieces of that monster hunter's lore. He also can sense magic and lead untrained villagers against a night creature attack.

Fancy Feet: Trevor is quite agile, able to keep up with Alucard's super-speed, climb up trees with ease, and do some nice tricks with his whip... and of course, reflexes like a cat!

---

There's nothing troublesome about Trevor's race; just like Sypha, he's Human. Humans (Variant) get a +1 to two abilities, let's get Dexterity and Constitution, proficiency in one skill their choice (Acrobatics), they know Common and one additional language, and they can take a feat. Tavern Brawler gives us several benefits, fit for a rough-and-tumble monster hunter:

We increase our Strength or Constitution by 1;

We are proficient with improvised weapons (which means anything from broken glass to a dead vampire can be our weapon now);

Our unarmed strikes now use a d4 for damage instead of our Strength modifier;

When we hit a creature with an unarmed strike or an improvised weapon, we can use our Bonus Action (instead of Action) to grapple a target.

Since Trevor is the last member of the House of Belmont, and stores quite a number of artefacts and knowledge in the Belmont Hold, I think the Inheritor background from Sword Coast: Adventurer's Guide fits him well. We gain proficiency with Survival and one other skill from the list (let's get History), we learn one more language, proficiency in a gaming set or a musical instrument, and we get the Inheritance feature, which lets us create the Belmont Hold. Work out the details with your DM.

ABILITY SCORES

Our main ability will be Dexterity, it will work great when we get our whip. Constitution is next, we can take a few punches and we sober up pretty quick. Trevor loves his ale, much to Sypha's annoyance. Follow that up with Strength; some of Trevor's weapons use that instead of Dexterity.

Wisdom is next, we know what to do when fighting night creatures, even with common household objects. Intelligence is a little low, but Trevor himself said he was never really a fan of learning and doesn't know much about magic. Finally, we're going to drop Charisma... Trevor's social skills are lacking, and there's a reason he's the main himbo of the show.

CLASS

Level 1 - Fighter: We start off simply, as a Fighter. Our Hit Dice is a d10, and we start with [10 + Constitution modifier] Hit Points. We get proficiency with light armour, medium armour, heavy armour, shields, simple weapons, and martial weapons. Although we don't really see Trevor donning any protections (Giggity), we could assume give him leather or studded leather armour, and of course a whip as his main weapon. Our saving throws are Strength and Constitution, and we get to pick two class skills: let's get Intimidation and Perception.

Fighters begin by choosing their Fighting Style, and similarly to Alucard, we're going to pick Duelling. It gives us a +2 to our damage rolls if we're using only one weapon in hand.

We also get Second Wind, which lets us heal for [1d10 + our Fighter level] once per short or long rest, as a bonus action.

Level 2 - Fighter: At this level, we gain Action Surge. Once per short or long rest, we can take extra Action on our turn.

Level 3 - Fighter: This is where we select our subclass, our Martial Archetype, and what else fits a Belmont other than Monster Hunter from 2016 Unearthed Arcana. Starting as a Monster Hunter, we get some skill proficiencies (pick Insight and Investigation), and Combat Superiority feature. We get four d8 Superiority Dice, which we can use for a number of different benefits:

When making a weapon attack against a creature, we can roll a Superiority Die and add the result to the attack roll.

When making a weapon attack against a creature, we can roll a Superiority Die and add the result to the damage roll.

When we're making an Intelligence, a Wisdom, or a Charisma saving throw, we can roll a Superiority Die and add the result to the roll.

When making an Insight check or a Perception check, we can roll a Superiority Die and add the result to the roll.

We regain all expended Superiority Dice after finishing a short or long rest. We gain additional die at the 7th and 15th level.

With Hunter's Mysticism, we can cast Detect Magic as a ritual spell. Trevor was able to smell lingering traces of magic on artefacts and in locations. Once per long rest we can also cast Protection from Evil and Good, with Wisdom as our spellcasting ability. In addition, we learn a language wielded by supernatural creates: Abyssal, Celestial, or Infernal.

Level 4 - Fighter: Time to get our first Ability Score Improvement! Let's put one point in Wisdom, and the other in Strength.

Level 5 - Monk: Jumping into a more nimble class for a moment. At their 1st level, Monks get Unarmoured Defence, which makes our AC equal to [10 + Dexterity modifier + Wisdom modifier], provided we're not wearing armour.

With Martial Arts, we increase our hand-to-hand combat capabilities, which works pretty well with our Tavern Brawler feat. We can use Dexterity instead of Strength for our unarmed strikes and monk weapons. When we use an unarmed strike/monk weapon as an Attack, we can make two unarmed strikes as a bonus action.

Level 6 - Monk: We get access to the Ki energy. Starting with 2 Ki Points, we gain access to the following abilities:

Flurry of Blows lets us spend 1 Ki Point to make two unarmed strikes as a bonus action;

Patient Defence burns 1 Ki Point to let us take the Dodge action as a bonus action;

Step of the Wind doubles our jump distance and lets us take the Dash or Disengage action as a bonus action.

At this level, we also get Unarmoured Movement. Our ground speed increases by 10 feet, provided we're not wearing armour.

Level 7 - Monk: Here, we pick our second subclass, our Monastic Tradition. With Trevor, who is undoubtedly the master of all weaponry, going with Way of the Kensei is an obvious choice. The Kensei Monks take training with their weapons to a whole new level, and the Path of the Kensei feature presents that perfectly. We get to choose two weapons: one melee and one ranged (whip and darts), those become our Kensei Weapons that gain special properties as we level up in this class. We gain three Kensei benefits when we choose this subclass:

Agile Parry gives us +2 on our AC if we have a Kensei weapon in our hand, and if on our previous turn we used it/made an unarmed strike.

Kensei's Shot lets us use a bonus action to improve our ranged weapons (we've seen Trevor using throwing knives, so darts seem to be the best equivalent). When we use our ranged attack, we can add 1d4 to our damage roll. We retain this property until the end of our turn.

Way of the Brush: We gain proficiency with either calligrapher's supplies or painter's supplies.

At this level, we also gain Deflect Missiles ability. If we're hit by a ranged attack (not a spell), we can use our reaction to reduce the damage by [1d10 + our Dexterity modifier + our Monk level]. If we manage to reduce the damage to 0, we catch the projectile, and we can use our reaction to make a ranged attack (20/60) with it.

Level 8 - Monk: We get another ASI! Let's put one point in Wisdom and another in Dexterity.

We also get Slow Fall. If we're falling, we can use our reaction to reduce the falling damage by [our Monk level x5].

Cat reflexes.

Level 9 - Fighter: Coming back to Monster Hunter, we get the Extra Attack feature. We can now attack twice instead of once when using our Action to attack.

Level 10 - Fighter: Halfway through the build, and it's time to get another ASI. We shall put another point into Dexterity and one into Charisma, to slowly get rid of the negative modifier.

Level 11 - Fighter: We get our first Monster Hunter upgrade. With Monster Slayer, whenever we expend one Superiority Die for whatever benefit, we can instead expend two. The Dice are expended as they normally would, but if the target is an aberration, a fey, a fiend, or an undead, we add the maximum number to the damage.

Level 12 - Fighter: Another ASI! Let's put +2 to our Dexterity to max it out (and actually giving our whip decent damage).

Level 13 - Monk: We jump back to Kensei for a second. This level would give Monks Extra Attack, but we already have that feature from the Fighter. If your DM agrees, pick the optional class feature, Focused Aim, from Tasha's Cauldron of Everything. When we miss an attack, we can spend from 1 to 3 Ki Points to get +2 to our attack per each Point, to potentially turn the miss into a hit.

We also get Stunning Strike: when we hit our target with a melee weapon attack, we can spend 1 Ki Point to attempt to stun it. The target has to make a Constitution saving throw (DC = 8 + our proficiency bonus + our Wisdom modifier) or be stunned until the end of our next turn.

It is also at this Monk level (6th) that our Martial Arts die changes from a d4 to a d6,

Level 14 - Monk: Our punches become extra punchy with Ki-Empowered Strikes. From this point onwards, our unarmed strikes count as magical for the purposes of overcoming resistances and immunities to non-magical damage.

We also get an upgrade to the Kensei subclass. Thanks to One with the Blade we now get access to the Morningstar whip.

Our weapon attacks now count as magical, for the purpose of overcoming resistances and immunities. Additionally, once per turn, when we hit a creature with our weapon, we can add extra damage equal to our Martial Arts die roll.

At this level, our Unarmoured Movement gains extra 5 feet.

Level 15 - Fighter: At this level of Fighter, we get the Indomitable feat. Now we can re-roll a failed saving throw once per long rest. We have to use the new roll, even if it is lower.

Level 16 - Fighter: We get another subclass upgrade with Improved Combat Superiority. Our Superiority Dice change from a d8 into a d10.

Level 17 - Fighter: At this level, we get additional Extra Attack. We can now attack three times, whenever we use the Attack action on our turn. That gives us a possibility of up to six attacks when combined with Action Surge.

Level 18 - Fighter: Time for another ASI. Let's put one point into Charisma and one into Wisdom.

Level 19 - Fighter: Our Indomitable feature improves to two uses per long rest.

Level 20 - Fighter: Our capstone is Fighter 14, and we end it with an ASI. We put one point into Wisdom... and I hate to leave an odd number, but we have to distribute it somewhere. Let's put it into Intelligence.

---

We've got Trevor Belmont. Let's see how he turned out:

To start off, we've got a really good defence. With an AC of 18, +5 to our initiative, and 45 feet of ground speed, we have a pretty good battlefield presence. We also have 181 Hit Points on average, so we can take a punch or two from a vampire.

Unfortunately, we have to manage our resources with five Superiority Dice and six Ki Points, making sure they don't fly by. We also are pretty vulnerable to Charisma and Intelligence saving throws.

---

And that is it, that's all for the Castlevania trio. Once again, I am accepting requests for any fictional character you wish to see, and if not - we're going back to SMITE gods. That's it for now, tune in next time!

- Nerdy out!

#d&d #dnd 5e #dungeons and dragons #castlevania #netflix castlevania #trevor belmont #fighter #monster hunter #monk #kensei

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thebiasrekkers · 5 years ago

Text

Sincerely, Yours - JJK

For the @btswriterscorner - Amor Fabula Launch Project in celebration of the month of Valentine’s Day!

Plot: Jeon Jungkook hails from humble origins, his family ranked as Laborers. Since he is the youngest of three children, his time for the lottery has not come. But when it does, he refuses to conform to society’s system and runs away. Disowned, he’s now become a fugitive, taking on odd jobs here and there as a “runner-for-hire”. What he doesn’t realize is that he will find love in the most unexpected place.

Rating: PG-13 // SFW

Genre: dystopian!au/dystopian themes | angst | romance/fluff

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Female OC (Nikita Meyers)

Warnings: Strong language, vandalism, violence, interracial/intercultural relationship

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 7,607

AN: This is the companion piece to my first story, Touch In The Dark. This is the “rebel” view of what transpires in the world that I built. In all honesty, I think I may like the MYG version a little more, but I think it’s mostly from my love of hurting my own feelings. I still had a lot of fun with this one and I hope you all enjoy it. Writing for Jungkookis is always a good time. All reblogs, critiques/reviews, comments and affection are accepted! Happy reading!

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

~ j.j. ~

Jungkook swung his legs back and forth as he sat on the edge of a nearby building. He whistled a tune to himself, a song from a life he could barely remember these days. A former Laborer, now turned Runner, Jungkook could say that he left a life that he knew wasn’t meant for him. The Class system was such a bogus way to create order and balance in the world. The Blue Bloods stayed in the upper tier and those born in poverty or with lesser means were meant to work for the rest of their days. Throw in The Lottery Bill and that was just the cherry on top of a fucked up sundae.

A soft breeze pushed against his form as he watched the sky transform into a mesh of warm colors: pinks, purples, oranges and yellows. The sun was starting to set and the world’s light would dim, blanketed by the cobalt sky littered with the few stars he was only allowed to see as he ran from rooftop to rooftop. Running free, no longer tethered to the rules of the world that dared to shackle him to a life of meaninglessness.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, he scrolled through the messages and noticed the priority one at the very top. Brushing his fingers through his hair, he sighed quietly as he glanced over the message. His newest client was scheduled to meet him in an hour. It was a standard escort job. It wouldn’t be too hard and the pay was decent.

In their society, it was a crime to “fall in love” with anyone. Period. Not even the spouse that was chosen during an individual’s Lottery drawing. Love fueled emotions that often led to the ruins of others. Passion had the potential to overshadow logic and reason. When logic and reason were cast aside, only terrible things happened. Emotions were just bad things and led to bad times.

Jungkook didn’t buy into that horseshit.

It was the main reason he abandoned his station in life and lived in the moment. He didn’t worry about yesterday. He could care less about tomorrow. Today was all that mattered and all that would matter when it was finally said and done.

He slid his thumb over the screen, dialing the number of his new “job” detail. The man answered quickly, interrupting the second ring.

“Is this Jeon Jungkook?”

Jungkook smirked at the hushed tone in the man’s voice. “It is. Is this Min Yoongi?”

“Yes,” he replied softly, as if trying to gauge Jungkook’s own tone, “were you able to secure safe passage for both my wife and me?”

Clambering to his feet, he dusted off the backs of his weathered jeans and knocked a bit of dirt off his boots. “That’s not my area of expertise, I’m afraid. That was taken care of by a different handler.”

He knew he was being a little shit, but sometimes it was all about asking the right questions.

There was a semi-long pause from the other end of the line, followed by a slow sigh of what could be presumed as mounting exasperation.

“So why was I directed to you?”

Jungkook’s grin grew a little wider. “Because I’m the one who’s going to get you out in one piece.”

“I see,” Yoongi said, as if he was mulling over something, “so you’re a Runner.”

It wasn’t a question.

“That’s right.”

“I just hope you’re as fast as that mouth of yours.”

He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. “I’m faster, trust me.” Pushing back the sleeve of his jacket, he spied the time. “I’ll meet you at the Square in half an hour. Don’t be late.”

And without waiting for a reply, Jungkook ended the call. Pulling out his earbuds, he connected the jack to the phone and slipped the buds on. It didn’t take him long to find the song he wanted, cranking up the volume as the intro crescendoed slowly. Inhaling lungfuls of air, he stretched his arms out wide and then raised them up so they were parallel with his head. Once he loosened up the muscles, he rolled his neck and hopped up and down - shaking his arms for good measure.

He always had to psyche himself up for things like this.

As soon as the balls of his feet hit the ground, Jungkook lunged forward. Up and over the edge of the roof. The world rushed by him in a blur of motion, his dark hair flying off his forehead. The night was cool, but the wind stung his eyes - making them water. He quickly wiped at them, curling his body inward and then extending his limbs. The concrete scraped at the pads of his fingers, but it didn’t take him long to realign his body, forcing his lower half to swing off to the side so that he could catch the railing of the fire escape.

The bars rattled violently when his heels planted themselves onto the platform, but he was already climbing up the bars to reach the next rooftop. Once Jungkook made it over the edge, his legs pumped the ground in tandem with his heavily beating heart.

Unconsciously, his mouth spread into a wide open smile.

Free-running. They couldn’t have called it something better if they tried.

Sweat broke out across his brow and the pulse of the song’s bass seemed to reverberate throughout his entire body. With every jump, lunge, catch and pull he performed, Jungkook’s elation only seemed to climb. It would be too soon if he could never run as free as he was now.

Heaving and halfway covered in perspiration, Jungkook arrived at the designated meeting spot within fifteen minutes. It gave him just enough time to grab a bottle of water from a nearby vending machine, emptying half the contents over his head and soaking his hair. Onlookers peered at him curiously, but he didn’t pay them any attention. He almost never did. He drained what was left in the bottle, savoring the feeling of re-hydrating himself.

Craning his neck, he located a nearby waste bin and was about to toss the bottle into it - arms stretched like he was shooting a basketball into a hoop.

He stumbled forward suddenly, his body pushed forward from an unexpected impact. Grunting, he quickly pivoted on his heels to see who was responsible, but all he caught sight of was a ball cap flying in his line of sight as auburn curls flew past him. Jungkook reached out and snatched the hat out of the air as the owner turned to catch a glimpse of him.

Her dark gray eyes glared at him, catching Jungkook off guard. Despite living in South Korea, Jungkook was used to foreigners. But he certainly didn’t remember seeing someone with those eyes and soft caramel skin. Her hair looked dyed, but it strangely suited her.

Jungkook took a step forward, holding her hat out to her. Instead of taking it back, she continued to shift her gaze from him and then to the hat. He grinned.

“Not even a thank you, huh? You don’t want this back?” He waved the cap back and forth, as though he were trying to keep a cat’s attention on him. “Is this mine now?”

He hadn’t seen her move. In fact, he didn’t even realize she’d closed what small distance existed between them. Not until Jungkook felt a soft burst of pain near his stomach. The wind was knocked from him almost immediately and all he could manage was a wide-eyed stare at her.

She grinned, twisting her fist into his stomach a little more. “Not a chance, you fucking tool,” replied the girl.

Jungkook collapsed to one knee when she took a step back, her hat not back in her possession. He struggled to reclaim what air was stolen from him, one dark brown eye glaring up at her. Not to say that women were weak, but he hadn’t expected a punch from a pretty girl to hurt this much.

Hopping back on one foot, she waved the hat at him in a farewell gesture before sliding it back onto her head. She turned and bolted from the square without so much as a second glance at him. He coughed, rubbing at his chest in an attempt to regulate his breathing again.

Wow, what a bitch, he thought, but Jungkook found himself smirking once the pain subsided.

Maybe he was a glutton for punishment.

“Are you alright?”

The voice jarred him from his thoughts and he quickly scrambled to his feet. He was face to face with his temporary charge, Min Yoongi. Standing beside him was a woman with dark brown curls, hazel eyes, and mocha skin. She peered at Jungkook curiously, her hand laced through Yoongi’s. She was also a foreigner from what he could tell, and well-known through the news as the “Charity Selection” picked from The Lottery two years ago.

He folded his arms across his chest. “This might be a little difficult.”

Yoongi lofted a brow. “And why is that?”

“Well,” Jungkook began, taking a few steps toward them before circling around both of them, “your wife’s kinda popular.”

The older man narrowed his eyes. “So you’re not going to be able to help us?”

“I didn’t say that.” He held a hand up and then waved it through the air, as if shooing away a gnat. “I just said that it’ll be a little difficult. Not impossible.” Jungkook met their gazes and grinned. “I got this. Trust me.”

~ n.m. ~

“Nikita, that was reckless.”

Removing the baseball cap, she roughly ran her fingers through her curls while scoffing. She carelessly tossed the parcel onto the table. “What does it matter? I got you what you asked for.”

The man seated at the table steepled his fingers, dark eyes peering over his knuckles at her. Nikita waited for him to say something, but he merely sighed and began to untie the twine wrapped around the brown paper packaging. It was his way of dismissing her, but letting Nikita know that she wasn’t completely off the hook. He’d find a way to pay her back and it wouldn’t be pretty.

She knew this because it wouldn’t be the first time.

Not wanting to press her luck, Nikita quickly vacated the office and closed the door behind her. She rested her shoulder against the door frame, mentally kicking herself for what she’d said. She knew she didn’t mean it, and yet she continued to come off as cold and unfeeling in these situations. Nikita was about to slam her head into the door when someone suddenly cleared their throat beside her.

“Keep it up and you’re going to put Minjae Hyung into an early grave.”

Craning her neck, she cut her eyes at the shaggy-haired individual - his shit-eating grin never failing to irritate her.

“Shut-up, Taegi-ah,” she snipped, walking past him. Predictably, he followed but Nikita ignored him, focusing her attention on the warehouse.

“Aw, don’t be like that, Nikki-ah,” he whined at her back.

She rolled her eyes. Nikita hated that nickname and he knew it. She also knew that he didn’t care that she hated it.

Because that was the kind of person Yoon Taegi was.

A pain in her goddamn ass.

But she couldn’t hold it against him. Because he was the one who helped her break the chains the world decided to put on her the day she was born. Without him, she knew she would still be living the life of a woefully ignorant aristocrat - blind to the truth of society’s agenda. Nikita lived in a castle made of glass and didn’t understand her purpose outside of being a breeding agent for some future husband she would never be able to relate to.

When the day came for her to be matched with her significant other, Nikita was ready to accept that lot in her life. She was prepared to walk down the path that she was groomed for. What reason did she have to believe otherwise; to be aware that there was something else beyond the veil?

The truth wasn’t known to her until she saw a couple being arrested on the streets - cuffed and pulled away from each other. They screamed until their throats were raw, and then continued yelling for each other. They managed to share one final kiss until each were thrown into separate police cars and driven away to be incarcerated.

Their fates were declared on international television.

Taegi was the man she’d seen carted away and three months later, he broke out of prison. As punishment, the woman he loved was put to death. It was their attempt to shatter his spirit, to break him.

They failed.

Sighing, she looked at Taegi’s smug expression and couldn’t help marveling at how far they’d come. A loaf of bread, cheese and meat was all it took to barter for the truth. Taegi gave it to her and Nikita knew she could never go back to her life of privilege. Not if there were people she could help in the process. It didn’t take her long to find herself pulled into Rebel circles - all of them graciously accepting her into their fold.

hree years passed since then and Nikita didn’t regret leaving her family or her “duty” behind. She was free and she was fighting for a cause that meant something. Even if she’d never experienced it for herself.

Love.

Sliding the metal door aside, Nikita stepped into the warehouse. The smell of gunpowder and kerosene instantly filled her nostrils - causing her eyes to water slightly. She quickly wiped at them and sniffed, fishing through a crate on a nearby table. Her hands stilled momentarily as she felt Taegi’s palms slip over her shoulders. He squeezed them gently and she sighed, hanging her head a measure as her eyes stared into the box of homemade pipe bombs and hand grenades.

“Sometimes I worry that the fighting is never going to end,” Nikita said softly.

Taegi rubbed her shoulders in a comforting motion before moving away from her to lean against the table. He folded his arms across his chest, his face lifting to the ceiling. “It’ll stop one day. We just have to stand strong and in solidarity.”

Nikita shrugged, pulling out a few pipe bombs. “I just hope we’re around long enough to see it.”

She checked the fuses, gauging their length, before placing them back in the box. She set one hand grenade out, flicking a finger over the pull pin. After making sure that it was secure, she dropped it into her messenger bag and moved to the next crate. It contained knives of varying shapes and sizes. She opted for a switchblade of decent length, slipping it into her back pocket.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Pulling it out, she scanned the message on her screen. It was from Minjae, as expected. He was sending her on another assignment. There was another potential ally they could have on their side versus running amok on the streets.

Turning to move to another table, she felt Taegi’s hand grasping at her arm. She looked at him and saw the worry lines etched across his forehead. Nikita couldn’t help but smile at him.

“You just got back and you’re already prepping to head out again.” He frowned. “You’re like a machine, woman.”

“Can’t help it,” she said, chuckling slightly, “I’m not one to sit around and do nothing.”

“It’s not about doing nothing. It’s about resting. You’ve been gone for three days.” Taegi sighed, releasing his hold on her. “Hyung can’t pass this off to someone else?”

“Nope.” Nikita shook her head. “Recruitment’s my main gig. You know this. Besides…” She paused, meeting Taegi’s gaze, her own expression softening a bit. “...if we don’t have more people on our side, what good is any of this? It’s never going to stop until every last one of us are either dead or re-educated. Numbers mean everything.”

Looking back at the phone, she opened the file Minjae sent her. It was the most current dossier on a person willingly living off the grid. They had been for some time now.

She recognized his picture immediately. He was the guy she’d run into earlier that day. The same guy she punched in the gut for teasing her when she was in the process of playing “courier” for their group.

Nikita couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped her. Taegi looked at her curiously but she shook her head, slipping her phone back into her pocket. This was going to be interesting. Maybe he’d hear her out despite the terrible first impression she’d given.

My job just got a little bit harder. Great.

~ j.j. ~

Jungkook lazily sprawled himself out on the largest branch of an old tree near the edge of town. Swiveling a toothpick between his teeth, he looked around at the people who passed below him obliviously. It amused him, in a way, how they could mindlessly continue with their lives. They were like sheep to the slaughter, unaware of the truth of things.

Then again, he didn’t really know what the “truth” was himself.

All that mattered to him was no longer having a label stamped on his body as though it were a badge of shame. Society deemed that he was destined to be poor. Society claimed that his ideal match would be someone of their choosing. Society was right and the average person didn’t need to question this.

Well, society could go eat a bag of dicks.

Again, his phone buzzed. He picked it up from where he had it laying on his chest to stare at it - the screen illuminating his face in the shadows. It was another job forwarded by his employer. Sighing, he opened up the dossier of the person he was sent to help this time. When he saw the picture, however, Jungkook sat up so fast that he nearly fell out of the tree.

It was her. The woman who nailed him in the gut without batting an eyelash. The woman whose dark auburn curls and gray eyes failed to vacate his mind.

He was immediately suspicious.

Normally he would forward a job he didn’t want to another Runner. It wasn’t like Jungkook was hurting for money. In fact, he was planning on taking a small vacation soon - taking himself off the grid completely for a few weeks before coming back. But his curiosity was a damning thing and he didn’t mind being damned if it meant knowing who this woman was.

Nikita Meyers. 25. Former Blue Blood. Currently wanted by authorities due to her association with various Rebel factions throughout the world.

Blinking, he read through the short blurb again to make sure that he wasn’t misinterpreting anything. But what was there to misinterpret? This woman had it all and threw everything away to be a fugitive? Like him? He didn’t get it. Wasn’t the high life a life of pleasure and carefree days?

Why would she ever want to toss it away for the gritty life?

Jungkook frowned, thinking back on the life he left behind. He refused to conform to society’s whims and ran away from home when it was time for him to have his partner chosen through The Lottery Bill. He didn’t know what love was and he wasn’t sure if he wanted any part of it if the government was hell-bent on minimizing it throughout the globe. Jungkook could admit that he did stupid things when he was emotionally unstable, hence why he was living the life he currently was in the first place. But he also wasn’t too keen on the idea of bending to the whims of others.

Even so…

Sliding his thumb over the screen, he dialed the number his contact provided for him. It rang three times before someone answered. Her voice filled his ears and he leaned his back against the trunk of the tree as he listened.

“Jungkook-ssi?”

He smirked. “Oh, are we using polite words now?”

He heard a sigh from the other line. “I won’t apologize for what I did. I had my reasons.”

“Sure you did.” His tone dripped of sarcasm, but Jungkook felt his smile growing wider. “It’s alright. I forgive you anyway.”

“You’re so gracious. So, are you gonna help me or are you gonna pass me off so I’m someone else’s problem?”

His lips formed into a small ‘O’ while he scratched the side of his nose. “Is that normal for you?”

Nikita scoffed. “I don’t make it a habit to become a problem for anyone in the first place.”

“That’s a shame,” he replied while shifting his position to stand on the tree branch, “it’s fun to be problematic.”

“I’m sure you’d know that.”

“Of course. That's why I said it.”

“Are you going to help me or not?”

Jungkook was going to help her. He’d made that decision the minute he saw her picture on his phone as the next job he was supposed to take. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to have fun with her about it.

“Well, you’re in luck. I happen to have some free time slotted in my schedule.”

“Good. Now come down from that tree and meet me face-to-face.”

His smile fell from his face and he sat up again, looking around in every direction. He quickly craned his neck down and saw she was standing below the tree he was currently perched in. For a long moment, the two of them just stared at each other - each of them holding their phones to their faces; listening to the other person breathing.

Then he saw her smile up at him. It was a smile that clearly said that she knew more than he did; that she’d gotten the best of him. A smile full of secrets, daring someone to try to discover them.

It was a smile that made his heart twist sharply in his chest.

Hanging up the phone, he slid it into the inner pocket of his leather jacket. Without batting an eyelash, Jungkook effortlessly hopped off the tree branch, landing with an unnecessary flourish in front of her. Nikita slid her phone into her pocket as he slid his palms over the thighs of his jeans.

Again, neither said anything. They just took in each other’s presence.

Now that he got a better look at her, Jungkook was at least half a head taller than her. The strap to a dark gray messenger bag was pressed across her chest at an angle, enhancing the swell of her bosom. Other than that, there was nothing else about her that would elicit inappropriate thoughts. No skin showed outside of her bare neck, face, and thin wrists peeking out from the sleeves of her dark green field jacket. She wore charcoal gray cargo pants stuffed into a pair of shin length combat boots. A black newsboy hat adorned the top of her head this time.

“So,” Jungkook said, finally breaking the silence, “where am I escorting the lovely lady?”

“We’re too exposed here.” Nikita moved past him and he pivoted on his heels to follow after her.

They were heading back into the city.

Just as he was about to suggest they could go somewhere a little more private to chat, she hopped onto a nearby dumpster and scaled up the fire escape as easily as snapping her fingers. Jungkook slowly arched his neck, watching her fling herself up one iron landing until her body swung in a half arc to allow her the reach she needed to grasp onto the edge of the building’s rooftop. Her booted feet scraped over the brick, crumbling small bits to the ground until she disappeared over the edge.

“Well, I’ll be goddamned,” he mumbled, his smile returning. This woman was just full of surprises.

“Are you comin’ or not?” she called down to him.

Not like he needed to be asked twice. Jungkook made a game of it, determined to scale the building in half the amount of time she had. Once he reached the top, he pulled himself over the edge in time to see her running at full speed across the building.

“Hey!” he shouted after her, his own legs eating at the ground in hot pursuit, “Wait a minute!”

But just as he was starting to close the distance, Nikita jumped from the building and curled her body inward. Jungkook was almost to the edge and was preparing his own dismount when he saw her successfully clear the gap. She grabbed onto one of the metal pipes and swung herself into an open window. Jungkook didn’t have a chance to relish in the adrenaline pumping through his veins, his eyes memorizing her movement patterns so he could follow the trail she was leaving for him.

Dust filled his nostrils, causing him to cough from the onslaught to his senses. The room smelled of old wood and mold. The building had long since been abandoned and there was clearly no interest in changing its state of disrepair. The boards creaked under each step that was taken and Jungkook mentally worried if the floor would crack and collapse right beneath him.

A beam of bright light blinded him and he hissed, moving his forearm to cover his eyes.

“Yo, what’s the deal?!”

His words sounded snappish, which hadn’t been his intention, but what did anyone expect when suddenly rendered unable to see?

“Sorry,” Nikita said, lowering the light to give him a chance to adjust to the darkness, “I wanted to make sure you were right behind me.”

Jungkook rubbed his fists into his eyes gingerly, shaking his head to blink the golden spots away from his vision. “It’s fine.”

She gestured with the flashlight toward the stairs. “Follow me. And watch your step.”

Everything in the building seemed ancient and forgotten. Jungkook swore he heard it groan in response to their presence there. It gave him an eerie sort of vibe that he wasn’t sure he wanted to really wrap his head around.

Once they reached the ground floor, Nikita disappeared through a door to the right. It looked like an office building of some kind now that he got a better look at it. He could hear her roughly pulling at drawers from what he assumed were old metal filing cabinets. Jungkook took a lean against the door frame, folding his arms across his chest as more dust flew in the air from Nikita’s manic investigation methods.

“Need any help?”

She slammed a drawer closed and yanked at another one, fingers dancing over the folders. “I’m good.”

He shrugged, even though he knew she couldn’t see it. “So what is this place?”

“Used to be a Public Records office until everything became digitized and moved to the various data hubs all over the globe.”

“And now?”

Nikita pulled out a folder and sifted through the papers inside. “Now it’s a place for squatters and a go-between for Rebel units.”

Jungkook hummed in understanding. But something puzzled him.

“So why are we here?”

Turning to face him, she waved the envelope at him. “Gathering intel for another client.”

“Wait.” He stepped inside the room. “This isn’t an escort job, but a recon mission?”

Nikita grinned, shutting the drawer closed with her hip. “Yup.”

He frowned. “Then why was I hired for this? You do know that I’m a Runner, right?”

“I know.” She stuffed the envelope into her bag, using the beam of her flashlight to rifle through whatever contents were also inside. “I know exactly who you are, Jeon Jungkook.”

Jungkook didn’t know why, but he didn’t like what she was insinuating with those words.

Nikita pulled something else from her bag, but it was too dark for him to see. Using her other hand to secure the bag’s clasp, she stepped toward the window and slid it open. Jungkook watched her poking her head out, presumably to see if anyone else was coming. It was dark and most people had normal work schedules so there wasn’t a chance for anyone to be out after midnight.

Well, except for them.

“It’s a waste.”

“What?” Jungkook slightly tilted his head, confused. “What is?”

“You left everything behind the same time I did, but all you’ve done is float through life without a care in the world.” She glanced at him from over her shoulder. “It’s a waste.”

Rolling his eyes, he frowned. “What the hell do you know?”

He didn’t appreciate her judgmental attitude toward him. It wasn’t like she knew him. It wasn’t like she understood what he’d gone through up until that point. Living off the grid wasn’t easy and it wasn’t for everyone. Sure, he could have gone back home and ponied up. He could have turned to those fighting against society’s rules and regulations, seeing refuge from a dying world. But he wasn’t about to let himself become dependent on anyone. Being dependent on others equated to marginalized freedom and Jungkook didn’t want that either.

Even if it he had to remain alone to maintain it.

“I know you’re a Runner,” she said, flashing a shit-eating grin at him, “so I suggest you do what you’re good at. Running.”

Jungkook wasn’t sure what she was getting at. But before he could question her further, something fell to the ground. It rolled across the floor and into the sliver of light that leaked in through the window from the streetlamp outside.

It was a hand grenade.

“ARE YOU CRAZY?!” Jungkook barely heard his own voice through the panic cadence of his heartbeat.

Nikita reached out to grab his hand, pulling him toward her. “RUN!”

They both tumbled out the window, rolling onto the grass in a tangle of limbs. They dislodged themselves from each other, frantically scrambling to their feet as they hurried to put as much distance between them and the building as possible. The heat from the explosion pressed against Jungkook’s back, forcing his body to lurch forward. Something cut the side of his face and he grunted as his shoulder collided with the concrete. He thought he heard someone calling him, but it was hard to make out from the soft ringing in his ears and the alarms going off.

“Shit,” he muttered as he sat up on all fours, shaking his head back and forth to chase away his rattled nerves.

Someone grabbed roughly at his jacket, yanking him up to his feet. His face was inches from Nikita’s, her stormy eyes reflecting the fire and smoke eating away at the building behind him.

“Come on,” she said, her hand reaching out to grasp his, “we have to go!”

He didn’t have time to yell at her. He simply followed her direction. Besides, he knew better than anyone that he couldn’t just walk away from this. Jungkook was an accomplice - willingness be damned.

He was a Rebel now.

~ n.m. ~

She’d be lying if she hadn’t planned it out that way. Nikita never had any intention of outright asking Jungkook if he would join their cause. Instead, she chose to be a dirty bitch about it - forcing his hand and leaving him no other option but to stand at their side. The Rebels weren’t necessarily losing, but they weren’t winning, either. The more skilled people they had on their side, people like Jungkook, the more likely they would win against society’s preconceived notion of what “success” and “happiness” was.

Nikita did it because she knew that they had to have him. That she had to have him. She didn’t feel guilty about taking him away from the life he’d chosen for himself.

A month later, however, the guilt started rearing its ugly little head. Usually in the dead of night; when the urge to smoke overtook her. She puffed on a cigarette, her thoughts swirling around in her head like a busted washing machine in desperate need of repair. Minjae told her that she didn’t need to tell him the truth about that day; what her intention was. She normally never questioned Minjae or his motives.

Now? Another month passed. She wasn’t so sure anymore..

A strong gust of wind pushed up against her body, causing her to take a half a step forward. The wind was always powerful the higher a person was. But the rooftop of their hideout was the only place she could find any solace. More and more people were joining their cause, but more people meant less space. Maybe it was the former high-privileged snob in her, but she liked being able to have a little breathing room in her life.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were here,” a voice said from behind her.

She turned to glance over her shoulder, seeing that it was Jungkook. Her brows furrowed, a soft ache building at the center of her chest. But she didn’t say anything. He took a step back, his hand reaching behind him so he could push the door back open.

Nikita exhaled a thin stream of smoke, tapping the ash off the side of the building. “Stay if you want.” She shifted her gaze back to look at the twilight sky. “You don’t have to leave.”

The door closed, but the sound of feet shuffling closer toward her caused her to release a silent breath of relief. She didn’t want the awkward feeling to continue between them, and in the last month Jungkook proved himself useful. He never demanded to leave, because the people around him wanted him to stay. It made Nikita wonder if he’d never felt a sense of community before now; if he’d always been alone.

She was decent enough not to ask.

“No assignments. That’s rare.” He said it so easily, like he’d been a Rebel for years.

Shrugging, she lifted the cigarette to her lips. “Can’t be busy all the time. Batteries need charging and all that shit.”

He chuckled, sidling up beside her but giving her at least three feet of space. Nikita cast him a sidelong glance, watching him lean against the railing with his forearms.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Jungkook reached into his pocket and pulled out a toothpick. She raised a brow, unable to force back the smirk forming on her face. It was a habit she’d never understand, but it strangely suited him. She shook her head as he clamped his teeth over the twig, making it swivel back and forth with his tongue.

“What about you?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I’m heading out in two days.”

Nikita wouldn’t ask him where. It was better if she didn’t know. The less she knew, the less likely Jungkook would be compromised should something happen while he was away.

For a while, neither of them said anything. She finished her smoke, tossing the cigarette butt off the edge. Jungkook was focused on the starry night sky, so she knew he didn’t notice her looking at him. His hair shifted in back and forth motions from another gust of wind. He looked so lost in thought, yet completely relaxed.

Anything could happen between now and tomorrow. Jungkook could turn his back on them and possibly reveal everything he’d learned to the authorities. Or he could just get captured or killed. There were no guarantees in the world they were both fighting against and fighting for.

“I’m sorry,” Nikita said, surprised at herself with how suddenly the words came tumbling out.

“Huh?” Jungkook straightened up to his full height, flashing her a confused look. “What for?”

“I put us in that situation back then so that you’d have no choice but to come with us.”

He appeared to not understand what she was getting at. Was he really so gullible? Or was he just that innocent? How had the world not broken him?!

Nikita closed her eyes tightly, biting her lower lip that was already beginning to tremble. “I purposefully set you up. I forced you to become a Rebel.”

She couldn’t see him, much to her relief. But the sound of her heart hammering roughly against her ribs drowned out the sounds of the city. If he was saying anything at that moment, Nikita was confident she wouldn’t have heard him.

“I know.”

Those two words pierced through her loudly pounding heartbeat. Opening her eyes wide, she jerked her head to face him. He was closer to her now, but still wearing that gentle expression. The one of someone who understood something that she hadn’t been able to glean. The kind of expression that told volumes about a person’s life.

About the pain they were forced to endure.

“I know you did. And that’s okay.”

She blinked up at him, gobsmacked by his words. “Wh-What?”

How could he say that it was okay? What part of what she said was okay? As far as Nikita was concerned, none of this was okay!

“Because it was only after being here, I realized why you did. To me, that’s all that matters.”

Nikita’s brows furrowed in disbelief. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. It was like she’d lost the ability to speak or even formulate coherent phrases.

He continued.

“I’m a Runner. You said it yourself, running is what I’m good at. People only ever needed me to run for them. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

She watched him take a step toward her.

~ j.j. ~

Nikita looked like a deer caught in headlights.

Jungkook felt a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach; like something was fluttering inside of it. He wondered if he looked the same. If he had that same expression on his own face. Jungkook hoped he didn’t, but he felt weirdly calm. He couldn’t quite place why, other than he believed everything he was saying at that moment.

And he believed that Nikita would hear him; truly hear him.

Because for damn near two months, Jungkook couldn’t get Nikita out of his mind.

“My family didn’t care about me running away from my responsibilities. If they did, they would be looking for me now.”

He took another step forward, his eyes flicking downward to see if Nikita was going to take a step back. She didn’t, and that strange feeling in his stomach intensified.

“My two siblings are making up for my shortcomings. They’re happy and so I kept running. Here. There. Everywhere. It never mattered where I was or how long I was gone. Because running is what I do.”

Nikita looked like she was really listening to him. He knew it because of how focused her eyes were; shaking.

“J-Jungkook,” she stammered.

He knew he should take a step back. Reassess things and think about just what the hell was tumbling from his mouth. It wasn’t like he’d planned this and he hadn’t expected for her to apologize for making him a sucker. One day was all he needed to figure it out. After the initial internal battle he had with himself died down, Jungkook was planning to get the hell out of that place. He would play nice and then bounce. Simple as that.

But one day turned into one week. Then two. Then three.

Until a month passed by.

He realized it hadn’t bothered him as much as he initially thought. Because in that short amount of time, he saw Nikita in ways that he was sure she didn’t realize was being showcased. Jungkook discovered every nuance about her as their paths crossed every single day. From the way she preferred hats with bills than beanies, to how she would scratch at the bridge of her nose when she was annoyed. She preferred dogs over cats, but had a special kind of love for horses. She liked dark liquors and she hated beer. Nikita hated mornings, but she would always get up early to see the sunrise before going back to sleep.

And she was one helluva free runner.

Taking one more step forward, there was now less than a foot of space between Nikita and him. Again, he looked down to see if she would step back. And again, she didn’t.

“For the first time in a while, no one wants me running anymore. And when I have to run, I know I have a place to run back to. Because there are people waiting for me.”

He reached out to grasp her wrists, feeling her pulse jumping with life beneath his palms. For a split second, he suddenly felt self-conscious that his hands might be cold, clammy, or all of the above. But Jungkook selfishly refused to let go. He would apologize later for it if she shoved him aside.

Or off the building.

He waited - the soft clouds of breath meeting hers as she breathed out in sync with him. Nikita didn’t move or was thinking about what to do at that moment. Jungkook knew he needed to hurry and say what was churning inside of him.

What he’d been wanting to say for almost a week now.

“Because people like you are waiting for me.”

His hands moved from her wrists, slowly gliding up her arms until his palms slid over the delicate curve of her shoulders. Jungkook even knew how strong she was under all the bulky clothes she wore. It was how people kept underestimating her. It was how she survived.

But even under that strength was a gentle and compassionate woman. A woman who cared about the people around her. A woman who decidedly left her comfortable entitlement to help anyone suffering under the injustice of the world’s system. A woman who cried in mourning for those who could not be with the ones they loved.

Jungkook’s hands cupped her neck, using his thumbs to stroke over Nikita’s jawline. He gently pressed them to her chin, lifting her face to his. He could see the tears forming in her eyes and he paused, feeling his own hands trembling. Could he afford to hesitate? Could he really let this moment pass by, only to fade away into the darkness where it would never return to see the light of day?

He had to keep trusting her. Trust that she would keep listening.

“Jungkook, what are you--?”

“I love you.”

Jungkook felt like his insides were going to fall straight out of him. He said it. His nerves felt liquefied, but he said it.

“W-What?”

“I love you, Nikita.”

Not wanting her to push him away, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. He felt her gasp in his mouth and he waited for her to retaliate. To kick and scream and threaten to toss him over the side to his death. He would have deserved it. His death would be justified.

But Nikita didn’t shove him to the side. No. And he lifted his lips from hers when he felt her hands cupping his elbows. What tears were in her eyes spilled down her cheeks. Jungkook saw her brows furrow, but there was a watery smile now on her face.

And then he kissed her again, harder. His hands left her face so he could wrap his arms around her, fully pulling her up against him. He needed her close. Closer than he’d ever been able to get to her. The need was terrible and he didn’t want to chase it away. He sucked in air through his nose, drinking in the subtle smell of her shampoo. Nipping and tugging at her lips between his teeth and tongue, he relished the soft taste of ash from the cigarette she smoked earlier. But there was a hint of peppermint. Nikita always ate a peppermint before smoking because she despised the taste.

Jungkook would continue his mission of getting her to quit.

They parted the kiss long enough to get air. He could just barely see her through the clouds of their breaths. Even in the dark, her eyes seemed to glow. He loved how Nikita always looked like she could see right through him.

“I fell in love with you. I don’t know how. I don’t know why.” He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers as their noses touched. “I just did. I just do.”

Turning to bury his nose into the curve of Nikita’s neck, he smiled against her skin.

“It’s okay if you don’t right now. We have as much time as we need to figure it out. Until then, just let me keep loving you as you are now. As I am now.”

Her body shook with how roughly she was nodding her head. Jungkook pressed his fingers against the back of her neck as he held her aloft. And for awhile, that’s all they did. Hugged each other. He could feel how hard their hearts were hammering against each other. All the anxiety and hesitation felt like it was bleeding out of him.

Nikita laughed a little. “Damn,” she whispered.

Jungkook smirked. “What?”

“Guess this means I love you too.”

They shared a laugh. He leaned forward to pull her into a hug. Jungkook appreciated how good it felt to know her arms were around him. It may have been a selfish beginning, but it wouldn’t be a selfish end.

He knew things would get harder from now on. But that was okay. Because the hole in his heart was full.

Because he loved this woman in his arms.

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